Alex led Fern out to where the rest of the group was huddled together like a bunch of hamsters. Charles offered them a weak smile that quickly dropped once he honed in on the young woman's thoughts.

"No," Charles told her before she had a chance to speak. "Absolutely not. Go pack your bags, Miss Ailey. You're going home."

"Absolutely not," Fern replied, mocking his British accent back at him as he gently took her by the arm. She batted him away.

With a frown, the Professor led her away from the rest of the group. Voice low, he reminded her, "I promised your mother that no harm would come to you."

"And you promised me you'd teach me how to use my skin and I want to learn." A smirk pulled at her mouth. "You'd be a terrible professor to turn me away now." Her expression twisted into a sneer as Charles sighed at her. "And if you do your job, I'll be fine. I'm a grown woman, Charles and this is my decision. Not yours and not hers."

The man sighed and looked away from her. "I really think it would be best-"

"Either you take me with you or I hitchhike to Salem by myself." Squaring her shoulders, Fern leveled her gaze at him. "Which do you think my mother would prefer?"

It was then Erik decided to join them. His eyes flickered between Charles (who looked woefully unimpressed) and Fern (who looked entirely too proud of herself) and he leaned down to the shorter man's ear. "We need all the help we can get, Charles. Perhaps she could be an asset."

The Professor clenched his jaw. With a deep sigh, he told her curtly, "Fine. But if she asks, it's your ass, Miss Ailey."

The girl smirked. "Naturally."

"Go pack your bags." He looked to the others. Features stern, he told them, "You too. We leave in fifteen."

They did as they were told. Raven smiled softly at the other girl as they fell into step. The brunette offered a weak smirk, but said nothing. Just pulled her coat closer to her curves before the pair followed the boys back into the facility. At the queer glances they received from the surrounding agents, Raven sped up to join Hank and Alex while Sean slowed his steps. Fern didn't bother. She didn't particularly care if the agents were watching her anymore; they wouldn't make a move if she was with the group. They were still spooked from what happened and were not about to come after her without cause. The fact that she had been able to wander the facility without (much) trouble had proved that.

The redhead peered down at the young woman curiously. "So, where'd you disappear to?"

Fern blinked and cast Sean a sidelong glance. When she didn't answer right away, he elbowed her gently in the ribs. Without the adrenaline, the pain in her bust had returned and the brunette bared her teeth in a wince.

"You okay?" Sean frowned as he took her arm. As she shied away from him, his features paled. "Those suits didn't try anything on you did they, Fe?"

"No, I'm fine." Fern forced a smile at him. It was nice he was concerned, but Sean didn't need to know about the ache in her chest or how irritated her skin was with the frame in her shirt constantly rubbing against it. "Just tired."

Still frowning, the boy wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Keeping his touch light and delicate, he didn't notice how she tensed; or perhaps he just ignored it. With a sigh, Sean rested his head delicately against hers. "Me too, babe."

The young woman rolled her eyes, but didn't shove him away. It was nice, being touched after such a heavy night. Much less so casually and gently. "Don't call me babe."

"Alright, gorgeous then, whatever." Sean lifted a gangly shoulder and grinned lopsidedly at her. "Sooner we pack the sooner we can hit the hay."

The brunette arched a covert eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. Shaking her head, she allowed him to steer her toward the room she and Raven had stayed in. When they reached it, the young man shot her a wink and let his arm fall before continuing on his way to the boys' quarters.

Fern shook her head and slipped inside. Raven stood at the foot of her bunk, holding a nightgown in her hands. Teary eyed, she lifted it up for the brunette to see. "What should we do with Angel's stuff?"

"I dunno, burn it?"

Raven's frown deepened. "Fern."

"Yeah, you're right," The taller girl snatched it from the blonde's hands. "We might need toilet paper for the trip."

"How can you say that?" Raven asked, slightly horrified by the other girl's coldness. Teary eyed, she snapped at her, "She was our friend. They were our friends."

"We knew them a day," Fern said firmly. Expression tense, her skin flickered and twisted as she lied, "they didn't mean a damn thing to us."

Horrified, Raven shook her head. "You don't mean that."

The girl sighed and dropped down onto her bunk. Fiddling with Angel's nightgown, she shrugged. Maybe if she hadn't fought with her, Angel wouldn't have left with Shaw. If she had just kept her mouth shut and temper in check Angel might've stayed. "Maybe if I say it enough, I'll believe it."

Slowly, the blonde moved to sit beside her. They stared at the nightgown a long moment before she spoke, "Angel isn't a bad person."

"I know."

"But she shouldn't have gone with Shaw."

"I know." Fern threw the gown across the room. It hit the wall and crumpled into a heap and the brunette was jealous of it. Jealous of it being able to break and bend without consequence. Jealous that it didn't have anything depending on it, didn't have any enemies or friends or blondes crying a few feet away. Voice catching, she stood, "She's just some fanatical gullible little fool. We're better off without her."

Raven stayed on the bed as the younger girl grabbed her suitcase. Moving it over to Raven's bunk, she didn't notice the tears slipping from the blonde's eyes. She didn't particularly care about them either. Keeping her back to her, Fern eased the frame out of her shirt. The membrane flickered over her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips at the sight of Blake Sullivan's beaming face. A shaky hand reached into her jacket and pulled out Darwin's license. She carefully secured it in the frame before she wrapped it in a pair of pajama pants. Easing it into her suitcase, she covered them with a sweatshirt and turned back to Raven.

Pursing her lips, Fern stood and snatched the blonde's bag off the bottom bunk. All but throwing it at her, she ordered, "Pack up. The sooner we leave, the sooner I shower and get to stop being a walking biohazard."

"Is that what that black stuff is?" Raven asked. "Your poison?"

"Yup."

The blonde stood. Fiddling anxiously with her fingertips, she asked, "Is- is it safe? Being…"

"So close?" Fern finished with a hint of irritation. "Yeah, you'll be fine, so long as there's no skin to skin contact. Can we please go now?"

At the plea in her friend's voice, Raven nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

The ride to Salem was, quite frankly, excruciating. Not because the company was bad, or because people were fighting, but rather because Fern had opted to take the seven hour car trip in the trunk.

Charles stared at her a long moment. "You can't be serious."

"It'll be safer for everyone," The brunette replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Besides, you really don't want to see me when I get claustrophobic."

The man squinted at her. "And you intend on fighting your claustrophobia by getting into a tiny airless space?"

Fern shrugged in an almost childish manner, drawing her shoulders inward and dropping his gaze. "It's different when I'm alone."

"I could knock you out," he offered. "Let you sleep the whole way there."

It was the young woman's turn to stare condescendingly at him. "Yeah, our level of trust is nowhere near where it would need to be for you to do that to me." Ignoring his scowl, she shrugged, "Besides, I wouldn't mind the chance to be alone. To…"

"Decompress?" the Professor offered. When she nodded, he sighed and rubbed his brow. "I don't like it."

"I've been kept in smaller spaces than this before. I can handle it."

And she did. Fern had expected the small space and stench of gasoline- she could handle those things. What she hadn't considered was the humidity. Her body temperature regulated to the unexpected heat with ease, making her slightly groggy and somewhat lethargic; but that wasn't the problem. The humidity, however, had clung to her scales and worse, had rehydrated the poison caked along the seams of them. It had no effect on her, of course, but she just knew she'd be faced with unwanted physical affection (most likely from Sean, who had been quite vocal about his disapproval of her life choices and had even offered to crawl in there with her, before being quite brutally shot down by the grey girl) and didn't want to send anyone into any kind of fit.

So when Charles opened the trunk, she initially stayed very still. She was greeted with the sight of Charles, Raven and Sean, who were all peering down at her in concern. It was the redhead who spoke first. At her lack of movement, the boy moaned, "Oh god, Chuck, you killed her!"

"I did not, don't be so dramatic." Charles blushed slightly. "You are alright, aren't you Miss Ailey?"

The girl pursed her lips and nodded. "I'm fine."

His brows quirked up along with the corner of his mouth. "Then how about you come join us, hm?"

"You have to promise not to touch me."

Sean grinned lewdly. "I promise nothing."

Fern glared at him. "Then I'm not coming out."

"Aw, come on, Fe, don't play hard to get," He teased, moving to sit on the bumper. "Come on, you've gotta see this house! It's outta sight."

"What?" The girl frowned at him. "What- wait, are we walking the rest of the way?!"

Charles shook his head at the younger man's excitement. "He means he likes it."

"It's your scales, isn't it?" Raven asked with a worried crease in her brow. "You're doing it again, aren't you?"

"Doing what again?" The Professor asked with a curious glance at the brunette.

"Last night when Shaw showed up- she started leaking this black goo," Raven explained, ignoring the grey girl's eye roll. "She said it was poisonous."

"It is," Fern told her with a scowl, "and I don't appreciate you talking for me."

Charles bent down on one knee to look her properly in the face. Features kind and open, he offered, "I promise no one will touch you until you're sure it's safe."

Fern nodded. Easing out of the trunk, she batted Sean's hands away when he went to help her. "Don't touch me!"

"Hey, I didn't make any promises," The redhead teased with a smile. It sobered a moment as he asked, "You sure you're okay, Fern?"

The young woman nodded briskly. "Come on. You can show me this outta sight house."

"We were just about to start the tour," Raven told her with a hint of a smirk. "Maybe you'd like to shower first?"

"Splendid idea." Charles smiled at them, "I'll show her to her chambers whilst you give the boys something to fight over…I mean, whilst you show them to their rooms."

Like the others before her, Fern gaped at the house- no, castle before her. It was easily the biggest house, hell the biggest building she had ever seen. Well, next to the CIA base anyway.

The girl's jaw dropped. "Holy shit."

"Language, Miss Ailey." Charles smirked as he righted his suit jacket. It was slightly ruffled after the long ride, but it seemed as if the young woman hadn't noticed. Still, appearances were important and the man buttoned it. "What would your mother say?"

"She would say holy shit, that's a goddamn castle," Fern told him, eyes wide and mouth slack. "Then she would advise me to marry you because that is a goddamn castle."

The man stared at her. Eyes crinkled with amusement, he shook his head with a brisk, sarcastic, "Eloquent." Resisting the urge to clap her on the shoulder, Charles smiled at her. "Come along then, let's get you cleaned up so you can join the others, hm?"

Fern nodded and hiked her suitcase up on her back. Still stunned by the sheer size and beauty of the house, she followed him obediently inside. It was decorated pretty much how she had expected, elegantly but somehow cold. It felt like there were no personal touches and had an aloof feel that reminded her of the hospitals and exam rooms of her youth. Everything was too sterile and impersonal. There were no knicks in the hardwood where a kid had rode a bike or a scratch in the paint where someone had stumbled. There were no family photos or knickknacks along the mantel. Everything looked incredibly expensive. The art that lined the walls- a single piece alone, probably cost more than Fern's entire house and it felt very much like she was standing in a museum. Not that she had ever been to one, but when Josie was mad at her she often expected her to be what she called 'museum quiet'. The idea of living in the beautiful but frigid castle made the young woman nervous, and admittedly a bit anxious.

"Imagine growing up in it."

Fern blinked and her skin swirled with embarrassment when she realized Charles had heard her internal criticisms.

He smiled warmly at her. "I hope to fill this house with new, more colorful memories, Miss Ailey. Hopefully your, and the others, presence will help soften the hollow feeling that seems to cling to these walls."

She offered him a tight, nervous smile. "Uh…the paint's really pretty?"

"Thank you. My mother decorated it herself."

"She has good taste in paint."

"I suppose she did."

The grey girl offered him an awkward thumb's up. "Dead, got'cha." Clearing her throat, she asked, "So…bathroom?"

"Come along." Charles crooked a finger and led her up a large staircase. Speaking all the while, he explained, "All rooms have a bath, with the exceptions of the servants' floor, where they only have adjacent baths."

"Servants floor?" Fern repeated as they reached the top. "Are you kidding me?"

The man chuckled. "I assure you, I am not." He nodded. "Any of these rooms should suit you well, Miss-"

"You can call me Fern."

"Well, you insisted Hank call you by your title so I was unsure if I had the privilege, given my title of scientist." His expression became a bit more muted, a bit more disapproving as he arched a brow at her.

The young woman bristled. "You're a professor."

"A professor of science."

Fern's expression tightened. Skin flickering with annoyance and a bit of embarrassment, she shrugged. "You can call me Fern so long as you don't try and suck my blood."

"I can assure you I won't." Charles offered her a soft smile. "If you need anything, there's a linen closet at the end of the hall. You'll find plenty of toiletries in there."

"I need-"

"Something stronger than hand soap?" He turned and faced the other direction. "Cleaning supplies at the end of the hall; mostly bleach, but if that's too strong-"

"It is."

"There's also some laundry detergent and dish soap in the same closet," Charles finished with a simper.

Running a hand through her damp black hair, the girl nodded as her skin flickered. "Thanks."

"I'll see you soon." Charles smirked at her. "After all, you still have to call your mother and break the news to her."

Fern groaned. Turning toward the linen closet, she didn't bother to say goodbye. Her mind was already on considerably more pressing matters- like just what the hell was she going to tell her mother? With a couple towels slung over her shoulders and a box of Tide under her arm, the young woman entered the room closest to the supply closet.

A/N: Shout out to my beta, Linda Ku! She's awesome. ^.^ Sorry for the wait on this.