Chapter 8: Visitors

"Eat."

She said nothing as she started to spoon oatmeal into her mouth. He sighed, picked up his own spoon and began to eat as well. A minute passed before he put his spoon down and began to tap his finger on the tabletop in irritation. He glanced at the top of her head and found himself frowning.

He told to her eat and she was eating. He should be pleased, she followed his orders without hesitation, and Stryker wasn't the one giving the order. Why should her blindly following his order disturb him? Why is this bothering him? He knew that he felt guilt for what he just took part in. This was not the same woman who selflessly took on a division of soldiers to protect children, this was simply a useful empty shell of that person that Stryker will use until he has no further use and will dispose of accordingly. But his had to be done, he reasoned, Stryker would have killed her, and he wouldn't have hesitated for a moment.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as he glanced at the inhabitants of the table. Scott Summers, Yuriko Oyama, and Morgan McGowan. Three people whose willpower had been crushed down and now were merely pawns in Stryker's plan to rid the world of mutants. These people had lives of their own, he thought to himself. He sighed unhappily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He glanced up and caught her staring at him, her forehead creased and her eyebrows rose in question; it was almost as if she could read his emotional state.

"Are your shields down?" he quietly asked. "Did you just feel something through your shields?"

"No and no." She answered flatly with a slight shake of her head, and went on eating her oatmeal.

"Why the look of concern then?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

She swallowed her mouthful, and wiped her mouth with her napkin, "Interpretation of body language," she answered in a matter of fact voice.

"Ah," he paused to think, wanting to keep the conversation going, chatter seemed keep the feelings of guilt at bay, "your father is a psychiatrist, right?"

"Yes," she answered, putting her spoon down and folding her hands in front of her as if she knew that he wasn't going to shut up. Her left eyebrow rose in question. He smiled at her, there was still quite a bit of personality surfacing there, he thought, I probably shouldn't be encouraging any sense of self, but…

"You read people well," he stated, "even without using your empathy. A skill you learned from your father?"

"No, from school," she replied, her head tilted to the side as she studied him further.

"Where did you go to college?" he asked as Yuriko cleared her throat, he glanced over at her but chose to ignore the look of confusion on her face. Yuriko got up, grabbed Cyclops by the arm and pulled him up, and she walked him away. Lyman thought that it was an odd thing to do, but after being under Stryker's will for five years, he didn't doubt that she sometimes suffered from some type of ill effects from the serum.

"Goldsmiths," she answered, her eyes darting over to the now empty chair where Yuriko had been sitting, her breath caught in her throat.

"I've never heard of it, where is it?" Lyman sat back, crossed his arms over his chest, thinking that she must have gone to some community college somewhere.

"It is one of the colleges of the University of London," Morgan offered, her right eyebrow raised, as if she knew what he was thinking.

"Hmm…what did you major in?" he asked, now leaning forward in interest.

"Psychology… anomalistic psychology" she answered softly, her eyes darting back and forth between Lyman and the vacant chair. Lyman sat and thought about that for a moment. Anomalistic? He had never heard of it, but he decided that it probably had to do with a branch of psychology that dealt in the unexplainable. His thoughts were interrupted when his radio squawked loudly, and he reached over and picked it up.

"Lyman here."

"Come up to the control room, Sergeant," Stryker ordered. Lyman sighed, took a sip of coffee before pushing his chair back noisily and getting up.

"When you are finished with your food, come up to the control room."

Morgan nodded, picked up her spoon and began to eat again, staring intently at the vacant chair in front of her, ignoring the stares of the soldiers occupying the other tables. Her mind grappled with what she was seeing, as her psyche finally allowing itself to recognize him. Part of her wanted to reach over and slap his beautiful face, and another part wanted to find out if a kiss from the dearly departed was possible. Slowly, she began absently rubbing the middle of her chest with her hand, as if she could massage the pain away. Her face contorted as her eyesight began to blur with tears. She felt something icy grip her hand and began to rub small circles into the flesh. She bit down on her lower lip as the tears overwhelmed her eyes and fell down her face.

"Why?" she whispered softly, "why now?"

"Please don't cry, Morgan, you know I always had a tough time with your tears," he replied with a small smile.

"You left me," she replied bitterly, her hands clenched into fists. He continued to rub her hand until it unclenched and he was able to slide his fingers through hers.

"No, Pari, I didn't," he looked around and noticed that soldiers were taking notice that it appeared that Morgan not only was talking to herself but was suffering from some type of emotional break down. He didn't want Stryker to have any doubts about his control over Morgan; she wouldn't be able to break through his hold if he dosed her again.

He smiled beatifically at her, as his hand reached across the table and his fingertips ghosted a caress over her lips, his eyes betraying his sadness, "I stayed to keep an eye on you, because I knew this moment would come."

She let out a deep breath and reached up and wiped the tears from her face. He reached over and touched a drop of wetness that remained.

"I wish we had more time to really explain what really happened but we don't. So listen carefully. Very soon, something is going to happen that will really piss you off. You will feel the most anger that you have ever felt in your entire life. You need to hold on to it, don't allow any of it to penetrate your shields and leak out of you. It needs to ricochet in your skull, within your shields, love."

"But…" she started and he vanished. She rose slowly to her feet, as Lyman's order to return to the control room became her only thought. Deep down, Morgan resented the compulsion to follow this order. She grabbed a napkin from the table and shoved it in a pocket, so that she could blow her nose and wipe her face in a corridor without the curious eyes of Stryker's soldiers.

As she walked back to the control room, the conversation replayed over and over again in the back of her mind. She dried her eyes, squared her shoulders, and held her head high. Morgan could feel some of the binds that had been crippling her psyche begin to thin out.

"Jonathon," she whispered reverently like a prayer as she stepped through the door and back into the sick world of William Stryker.

As he looked around the room, Magneto assessed each individual.

The Wolverine was an easy one, all brawn and absolutely no brains, which he seem to feel the need to demonstrate time and time again.

Jean was someone who never will live up to her potential; she fears her powers too much. He caught her eye, as he thought this, she smirked at him.

Storm has great potential but she lacked the fortitude to really put everything on the line. She wanted peace, and that was all.

The German teleporter was an obvious pacifist.

Erik already knew that he wanted the fire starter, Pyro was angry young man, and that anger could be quite beneficial to the Brotherhood.

He didn't know what to think about Iceman, but from what he had seen over these last few hours; Eric is very much reminded of a very young and idealistic Charles Xavier. This boy had no place in Magneto's organization.

Rogue, she could be the deadliest weapon ever but her fear equaled another Jean Grey. Crippled with fear.

Erik Lensherr was damn happy that he had Mystique with him.

"All right, this is a topographic map of the dam," Ororo explained her hand gesturing to the holographic image, "this is the spillway. You see these density changes in the terrain?

They're tire tracks."

"That's the entrance," Logan added. Erik's mouth set in a thin line of annoyance. He couldn't believe that the fate of all mutant kind rests on these idiots. Jean caught Erik's eyes and her mouth turned up and she chuckled quietly. He glared at her.

Stay out of my head, Jean.

Then stop projecting so loud, Erik.

"Mm-hmm," Ororo nodded, "And this shows the depth of the ice that's covering the ground. Now this is recent water activity." Simulated blue water rushed down the spillway.

"If we go in there, Stryker could flood the spillway," Jean remarked from across the room. Jean and Ororo looked at each other and then over at Kurt, as if they had the same thought.

"Can you teleport inside?" Ororo asked. Kurt already knew that she was going to ask him this.

"No. I have to be able to see where I'm going," he shook his head gravely, "otherwise I could wind up inside a wall," he explained, hoping that they understood how there was nothing that could be done for him if this happens. He hoped they would not ask this of him.

"I'll go. I have a hunch he'll want me alive." Everybody turned and looked at Logan; Erik rolled his eyes before he interrupted the conversation.

"Wolverine, whoever goes into the dam…needs to be able to operate the spillway mechanism," he said as walked through the hologram, he ignored the glare from Storm, "What do you intend to do? Scratch it with your claws?"

Logan puffed his chest out and quickly approached Erik, "I'll take my chances."

"But I won't," he replied turning back to where Mystique was standing. Jean instantly saw what Eric was thinking, Stryker probably wouldn't flood the spillway if he saw Logan, and Mystique could easily operate the spillway. Yes, this might work.

"Um," Bobby cleared his throat as all eyes rested on him, "there might be a problem with that plan."

Mystique sneered at him before answering, "What problem are you talking about, boy."

To his credit, Bobby didn't flinch back from her glare, "If they do have Morgan, and they are controlling her, she'll know that you aren't Logan," he patiently explained, his ice blue eyes glared back at Mystique. She smiled at him, and it wasn't a pleasant smile either.

"Who?" Erik asked, trying to come up with a face for the name.

"Morgan is Charles Xavier's assistant. She was taken captive with the children. She is empathic, in fact she might already know that we are out here," Jean explained, her mind trying to come up with any other alternative type plans. This is Scott's area of expertise; he would have a dozen different strategies at this point.

Jean projected a picture of what Morgan looked like directly into Mystique's brain. Her breath caught in her throat. Mystique then narrowed her strange yellow eyes at Jean, "Some advance warning next time, telepath." Jean chuckled darkly. Erik couldn't help wondering, if Jean Grey was going through some change as of late. There were some definite personality modifications going on in there.

"You know, we are expecting some reinforcements. I think we should think about waiting for them…" Jean added.

"Nein, we can't wait," Kurt interrupted, "Herr Stryker will use his machine as soon as possible. He is so close to his goal, Fräulein, he will proceed quickly; waiting is not a good idea."

"Yeah, the elf is right," Logan agreed, earning him a quick grin from Kurt, he seemed to not mind being referred to as an elf. "We need to go in, now."

It all happened so fast.

Several soldiers went into the spillway to escort someone who was wandering around out there. Morgan immediately recognized the intruder as the mutant from Xavier's, the one with the metal in his hands. Logan. They had their weapons trained on him, and he was bound with some type of metal restraint. Morgan was surprised that he would allow himself to be taken prisoner. He didn't seem to be the kind of man that could be taken down. She desperately wanted to drop her shields; she needed to get a reading on what was really going on. Unfortunately, there was still enough serum in her that prevented her from disobeying a direct order from Stryker. Annoyance colored her facial expression. How can she help, being so hindered?

Logan quickly glanced around the room; taking in his surroundings. His eyes settled on Morgan's, and cocked his head at her. It was if he was expecting Morgan to do or say something.

Something white flashed in her peripheral vision, interrupting her thoughts, when she turned to get a better look, her eyes widened in surprise. Jonathon was beckoning her over to him. She stepped backwards until her she was against the wall.

"Stay here, out of the way," he whispered in her ear.

Morgan watched as Stryker stared at Logan for a moment before turning back to Lyman.

"The one thing I know better than anyone is my own work. Seal the room. Shoot it," he ordered.

Without hesitation, Lyman pulled his sidearm, aimed and screamed, "Seal the room. Step away!"

As all of the soldiers aimed their weapons, Logan morphed into a blue woman and she proceeded to kick the shit out of those soldiers.

"What the fuck," Morgan muttered to herself. When the corridor was filled with shouting and gunfire, Morgan dropped flat to the ground and covered her ears. The blue mutant was able to fight off all of the soldiers, and slip through the heavy door that effectively sealed them in like a tomb. Morgan slowly pulled herself to her feet and faced Jonathon, her eyes flashed with uncertainty.

"What now?" she asked, her lips barely moving. He smiled, his icy hands softly pushing the tendrils of hair from her eyes. He leaned in and ghosted a kiss over her lips.

"Go with them."

Morgan slowly walked over to the now sealed door to the control room. Stryker was unbelievably angry.

"Can you override the spillway mechanism?" Stryker demanded. His eyes narrowed at his second in charge. He could feel the anger growing like an out of control beast in his chest.

"Everything's controlled from inside that room. That's why the doors are so thick." Lyman explained patiently, without even thinking that he was stating the obvious.

"Oh really?" Stryker scoffed, wanting to back hand him for his stupidity, "get some charges! Blow the doors open!"

He glanced up at the security camera that was pointed at face, giving the mutant inside a clear picture of his failure. He knew that that blue bitch was in there staring back at him, sitting at his control panel, causing who knows what kind of system malfunctions, and mocking him. God damn mutants!

"Take these cameras out."

Lyman aimed his weapon and shot the camera out. Stryker's eyes swept wildly around the room, as his mind attempted come up with some plan. He knew that the mutant could not access his Cerebro from the control room but there were several systems that she could negatively affect in the power grid. Where are those charges?

Stryker noticed that the empath was staring at him expectantly, waiting for her next command.

The empath. She must have known and said nothing.

"You," he pointed and beckoned her over, his voice sounded shaky with anger, "you knew that she wasn't Logan, and you said nothing!"

Morgan's eyes flew open with indignation, "I didn't know."

"How is that possible? I've seen what you are capable of."

"You told me to keep my shields up. I feel nothing through my shields," she explained, feeling hurt by is accusation. She desperately wanted his approval; she followed his orders about keeping her shields up. He should be pleased, she thought to herself,

Before he knew what he was doing, Stryker balled up his fist and punched Morgan in the jaw. She fell to the ground in pain. Anger. Indignation. Pain. Anger. It boiled up inside of her. It was white hot, molten flames. It felt like her brain had been set on fire.

"God damnit!" he roared, "Get the hell out of my sight. Go down to the bottom level, find Cyclops, and take out anyone who enters the base."

"Do not look at him, Pari. Keep your eyes down and let that pain burn your brain. Do not drop your shields," Jonathon whispered in her ear.

Morgan nodded.

AN:

Anomalistic psychology is defined as the study of extraordinary phenomena of behaviour and experience, including (but not restricted to) those which are often labeled "paranormal". It is directed towards understanding bizarre experiences that many people have without assuming a priori that there is anything paranormal involved. It entails attempting to explain paranormal and related beliefs and ostensibly paranormal experiences in terms of known psychological and physical factors.

You can actually study this at Goldsmiths, University of London.

Pari is Hindi for fairy or angel, Jonathon's pet name for Morgan