Erik tried to stay calm, even though the world seemed to be going mad around him. This was Maddy, he was quite sure of that, in spite of the fact she didn't look right – there was the eyes, for one thing, and her skin – it seemed to glow, in a way that had nothing to do with exercise. And she was moving much too fast. Every movement, every flicker of a bulb in the fluorescent lights overhead, caused her to twitch. He noted too how her eyes kept darting to the pool of blood leaking from the broken bag at her feet – what on earth was she doing with that?
"Madeline. I need you to stay calm. Something has happened, but it's going to be alright."
He wondered if that sounded more convincing than it felt; he was trying to channel Charles, to emulate the soothing sangfroid that the telepath could summon at will no matter the situation. In fact, Erik was unselfconsciously yelling for help down the mental link the two of them shared; this situation was far more Charles's speed, or Hank's – Erik felt all at sea. No hope of help from that route though, he knew – Charles's range only ran so far without Cerebro's amplification, and Charles was halfway across the country by now. Erik was on his own.
She was suddenly in front of him, and he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Erik had learned to rely on his instincts, back when every hand was turned against him, when a moment's unwariness meant death. But he couldn't understand his apprehension now; she was just a frightened little girl, for goodness' sake. He steeled himself against his inexplicable attack of nerves, put a hand on her shoulder; she flinched.
"Where's Hank? Where's Wilson?"
Even her voice sounded different – more resonant somehow, as if her voicebox had been lined with velvet. Erik shook that errant thought away, prepared himself to tell her the worst.
"Hank and Charles have had to go and take care of something. I'm sorry; the procedure didn't go the way you planned-" he saw the dawning horror in her eyes.
"He's dead isn't he? Wilson's dead."
She began to cry, silent, oddly pinkish tears streaming down her face. "My blood killed him, didn't it?"
Erik shook his head vehemently, tightened his grip on her shoulder.
"Your blood never got near him. It happened too quickly; they transfused his blood into you, then he died of a complication with the anaesthetic. It wasn't your fault, wasn't anybody's fault." She blinked.
"I've still got his blood inside me?"
He nodded. Her strange, red-brown eyes went dark; she had begun to tremble violently.
"What's happening to me, Erik? I feel so – strange. I feel – strong. Too strong. Too fast. I can remember memories that aren't mine, that couldn't be mine, and-" she looked helplessly back to the blood, wiped her stained hands guiltily on her gown, shuddered. She gave him a pleading look. "I need to get out of here."
He guided her into the hallway, remembered the last time they'd been there together, when she had brought him the news that Charles had survived the procedure. She had helped him then; he tried to help her now, pulled her into an awkward hug.
Her reaction alarmed him – her body seemed to somehow flow into his, her thin cotton robe barely there, her warm flesh closer suddenly than his own skin. Her hands ran up his back, and when he looked questioningly into her eyes, he saw something there he had never seen before – desire, pure and primal. He took an awkward step back.
"Maddy?" She blinked, then blushed vermillion.
"I- I'm sorry! I don't know what- I don't-" she was backing away from him, bumped into the wall. She dropped her eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me. You should stay away. When will Hank come back? He'll know what to do."
Erik frankly doubted that. It was Charles he wanted, Charles who could make some sort of sense of what was going on in the girl's head.
"They'll both be back soon. You just need to calm down, and – put some clothes on, maybe?" Her blush deepened, if that were possible.
"Will you bring me something to wear please?" she whispered.
He nodded, eager to do something practical to help, and happy for the opportunity to get away for a minute, to alleviate some of the awkwardness she was obviously feeling about what had been revealed – awkwardness he shared in full measure, as it happened.
As he walked to her room, pulled clothes randomly from the drawers, he tried to process what had happened, hear Hank's angry accusation from months ago in his head: "Anyone can see she's got some ridiculous hero-worship crush on you." Erik had dismissed the jibe out of hand, thinking that Hank was just jealous, angry.
Now he wasn't so sure. He thought of Maddy as a little sister, nothing more. But the creature upstairs wasn't the Madeline he had gotten to know over the months, a shy, innocent, vulnerable girl. She was something else. What, he didn't yet know. What he was certain of was that whatever she might feel for him was being amplified by the strange alchemy at work within her blood. He would have to be careful – not to hurt her; or let her hurt him.
When he came back to the hallway, her face was pressed against the wall, and she was inhaling deeply, as if trying to concentrate on the smell of the painted concrete to the exclusion of any other thought. She heard his light tread as soon as he rounded the corner, whipped round with that terrifying speed. She reached out for the clothes gingerly, snatched them without touching his skin.
"Thank you," she mumbled, not meeting his eye, and darted off to the sickbay. Erik stood in the hall, not wanting to leave her, but absolutely certain she wouldn't want him to follow her in. He was hovering indecisively, when a terrified scream propelled him across the threshold as if fired from a gun.
"MADELINE!" he yelled as he burst in. She barrelled into his arms, naked, clutching her discarded gown to her breasts. She was incoherent with terror, and he had to shake her to get her blind red-brown eyes to focus on his face.
"Maddy, what is it? Tell me what's happened!" She was shaking wildly, but forced the words through her chattering teeth.
"My scars. My scars! They're- they're gone!"
Erik's pupils contracted with disbelief, shock. But it was true; he ran a hand over her back, found nothing but smooth skin. The knotted whorls of scar tissue that had covered her torso, legacy of a hundred surgeries, were gone.
She began to sob hysterically, and Erik gathered her into his arms, wrapped her back up in the discarded gown. He sank down with his back against the wall, rocked her back and forth like a baby until her weeping had subsided into choking, shuddering breaths.
"It's going to be alright," he murmured. "Don't be scared. It's going to be alright."
That was how Hank and Charles found them hours later. Maddy had cried herself to sleep at last; her face was stained with red-tinged tears.
"What the hell-" Hank demanded angrily. Erik silenced him with a murderous look, put a finger to his lips, indicated the sleeping girl with an incline of his head.
"Funny you should ask that, Herr Doktor," Erik hissed. "I was going to ask you the same thing. What the hell have you done to the poor girl?"
AN: OK guys, it's getting a little wild - but stick with me! All will eventually make sense (of sorts). I'd really, massively appreciate a review or two - even just to say you're still with me! I'm having so much fun writing the fic, would be great to know others are enjoying it as well. All the best! Next chapter in the works even as we speak.