Thank you all for your incredible support as I've struggled through this bout of writer's block. We are back on track. Here's your Chapter 13! More to come shortly. Suggestions and requests welcome. Rock on!

Chapter 13

Waking up is a slow, sluggish process; like climbing up a hill of slushy snow, for every step forward I make, my feet sink in to the mush endlessly and I seem to slid right back down to where I started. Each step I take costs me so much that I can barely keep moving up that damned hill. Despite the growing desperation swelling in my chest to get the hell out, I find myself slipping back in to the darkness more than once, simply too exhausted to keep fighting. Some badass superhero I turned out to be.

I bet spandex would help…

It's a long time before I start to feel my energy growing instead of draining out of me. The slushy snow hill begins to thaw and my steps gain more traction. Like spring breaking over a meadow, the fight becomes less and less exhausting and I take to running toward…something.

Waking up was a surprisingly violent process. Shooting straight up with a gasp, I hear metal clang as it hits the floor, glass shatter and ceramic explode into shards. I'm not sure what scares me more, that I seem to be in yet another hospital room or that I can immediately register exactly what's making each noise in the room.

"Easy my dear, you've had a rough go of it."

A rich, cultured voice caresses my ears like so much velvet and I can't help but turn my face to glorious sound/sensation.

Wait a second, shouldn't there only be one sense involved? Since when can I feel sounds?

Opening my mouth to respond isn't nearly as hard as making my voice work. A crackling, garbled mess pours from my parched lips, scraping my throat like sandpaper on tissue and I'm sure I must be bleeding.

"Let's not speak now; you've been ill for some time and things aren't quite working the way they should just yet."

Yeah…let's not, I agree in my mind's voice.

Devoting more energy to my eyes, a vision of white broken up by lights and metallic seeps into my perception. So, I am in another hospital.

…Gross.

I turn to the velvet voice, imploring it to continue.

"Ah, I see you're ready for a report. Where shall I begin…You've been imprisoned for some time, I'm afraid, in some kind of telepathically-induced interrogation. It would seem that they concluded your physical body to be useless and focused more on maintaining your mind to…farm for information. On what, we are not entirely sure but perhaps you can enlighten us later, when you're feeling better."

The voice pauses, for a moment as if giving me space to answer. But he quickly begins again. Perhaps the voice remembered that I'm not supposed to talk now.

"The damage to your vocal cords is… due to prolonged overuse."

My confusion must be showing on my face because the voice continues in a softer, more apologetic tone.

"You screamed quite a bit."

Oh.

Well…that sucks.

Something warm and soft and…furry? touches my hand and I look down to see what little creature just crawled up on me. But instead, of seeing a kitten, small puppy or even a common, household chinchilla, I see a huge blue paw connected to an equally huge blue furry arm.

Whaaa….

"Oh dear, I've completely forgotten, which is rare for me you see as my mutation is so very obvious…When Charles explained that we were part of your hallucinations I just assumed…Oh dear. My name is Dr. Hank McCoy and I am…"

I can't help but smile.

"You're a big blue, teddy-mutant?"

Another voice.

I turn but really can't make out much other than a red and black blob.

"Careful, Mr. Wilson. Neither her vision or her voice are in working condition at this point."

"Wait...You mean my little pocket rocket can't see all the gorgeousness mere feet away from her?! That my good doctor is a medical tragedy."

I smile as a wave of relief and warm envelops me when that voice reaches my ears. The smile spreads and tears fill my eyes, immediately burning the underused organs.

"Aww, love-bell! Don't cry, Wade is here to make it all better…"

When his hand takes mine, I moan at the overwhelming sensation. Tingles run up my arm and I shiver at the pressure of another human being touching me. Hank's furry blue paw hadn't gripped so insistently the way Wade's hand is holding mine now and I'm so glad for it. Moaning at the touch of a man whom I know is one thing but getting off on a random (but very nice) doctor's touch sounds like a Richard Gere movie.

"Oh baby, I know I'm good but I didn't know I was that good!"

"Mr. Wilson, may I remind you that our young lady has been held in sensory deprivation for quite some time. Please be careful lest you overwhelm her awakening system."

Wade leans in closer, as if trying to discern whether or not he could really hurt me just by touching my hand. The closer he gets, the more clear his features become and I gaze at his chiseled features, tan skin and sparkling, slightly manic…mostly psychotic eyes.

That's my boy

"If I lick your hand, would you cu…."

"Mr. Wilson, that's enough for now. Thank you. I'll call you back in when I've completed my evaluation now that our young lady is awake."

Wade's grin widens at what I assume is a truly impressive blush spreading over my body.

"I'll take that as a yes. Until next time Princess."

Wade leaves my vision and then shortly after, leaves the room and I turn my attention back to the blue blob that is Dr. Hank McCoy. I think I'll call him Blue Velvet from now on.

He continues once the door slides closed, assuring both of us that Wade is no longer lingering within hearing distance. I miss him immediately but really don't know how I'd cope with his reaction to the list of my aliments.

"As I was saying, you've been held captive for quite some time. Four months to be exact. Mr. Wilson and Mr. LeBeau have been rather frantic in their efforts to find you. I must say, the excitement when you finally made the connection with Charles was intense. The preparation involved in your escape plan was reminiscent of the invasion at Normandy.

"Needless to say, you're quite emaciated and there has been some organ damage due to severe malnutrition. The good news is that there doesn't seem to be any damage that good nutrition, physical therapy and safety cannot cure. While I'd like to believe that is because you're interrogation was primarily mental, I have reason to believe that your mutation adapted to the situation and actually began to heal you…"

Blue Velvet pauses again, I assume to see if I had an idea my sound wave mutation was capable of doing such a thing. I shake my head in the negative. The very notion is dizzying and I struggle to comprehend that my mutation "adapted" to anything. All my life it's been something I've forced to stay hidden. It never occurred to me that it might adapt to threats or change manifestation.

"I can only imagine how frightening this has all been for you."

I crinkle my nose. No kidding!

"For now, I've put you on an IV drip to rehydrate you and in a few hours we'll start slowly introducing vitamins. It will be some time before your digestive system is ready to process anything that doesn't dissolve on contact. I hate to say this but it's going to be a long road to recovery. We'll be working every day so let's stay focused on the small achievements and the time will move much more quickly."

Smirking, I roll my eyes.

"Ahh, yes, you are a therapist. So you know that everything I just said was…absolute crap. (I smile) You're, right. This is going to suck but if you want out of this room you're going to have to dig in and fight for your second chance."

Nodding, I let my eyes droop closed, exhausted by the exchange but heartened by the knowledge that I am safe and that I will get better.