Continued from yesterday:
“It’s been going around,” said Lance, remembering the Snowshovel Incident. And the words Kitty had had to say when he asked for Baldy. It was going to take more than a posy of wildflowers to get over *that* one. “Look. We know how you guys are for busting in on stuff, okay? And Todd… is not well."
"I know,” said Xavier. “That’s why Sara insisted he see our physician."
_Ohfuck…_ "No shit?"
"I am not a man given to mistruths, Mr. Alvers."
"Do tell him we haven’t been locked in any basements,” said Sara in the distance.
“Yo, dawg, we a'ight. Chill!"
Lance actually found himself sighing with relief. That was Todd. Nobody else in Bayville could use so few real words. "Just - just tell the little runt to leave a note, next time, ‘kay?"
"You’re welcome,” iced Xavier.
_…fffffuuuuuuuuuuck…_
+
Sara had recovered - or at least, been distracted from feeling upset by Forge’s gadgetry. One hand was under the macroscope and the other clung tight to Todd while she twisted herself around to see what was going on.
Currently, they were watching her skin grow. The process of ambient radiation magnification and interpretation made her flesh glass on the screen. Translucent hues layered atop one another could be peeled, magnified, or augmented as the case desired. The formation of an entire epidermis was something to watch.
“Oh, they’re not really scales, are they? Look,” Sara let go of Todd long enough to tweak a control. “See? They’re clusters of pigment cells and some *very* interesting muscle fibres. No wonder I’m cramping."
"Ambient heat would aid the both of you, I suspect,” said Hank. He left the controls to turn up the heat in the room.
Todd stuck his peeling hand under the reserve screen, looking at the flaking desert of his own hide. “Cool, yo."
"When you children have *quite* finished playing…” said Hank. “I’d like to complete the physical, if I may?"
Sara blushed. "Terribly sorry.” She sat in the middle of the machine.
Hank adjusted the dials. A standard anatomical view, gathering vital statistics without touching the patient. “Heart good, lungs clear, liver healthy, kidneys healthy, no sign of disease or congenital defects. Loose ligaments, but one expects that in tall ladies… Excellent teeth."
"I just look after them,” said Sara.
“Ahem…?” Todd raised an eyebrow.
“Oh. Uh. Thankyou."
"And now to the brain… The good Professor filled me in on your earlier episodes, so…” The screen filled with her skull.
“You can’t see my ears on that thing, can you? Mother always says I look like a loving cup with my ears out in the open."
”…(coughbitchcough)…“ Todd muttered into his hand.
Hank was beginning to concur. "I assure you, I’m focussing intently on your cerebellum.” Ah. Lovely. Plenty of folds and valleys. All the better for the kind of surface area that made a genius. And, Hank was pleased to note, no sign of any kind of mis-wiring. Which meant that her episodes were of an emotional nature. “You’ll be pleased to know you’re in excellent health. A tad dehydrated, but easily remedied. I’d also recommend a high-protein, high-carb diet while you’re undergoing your transition. Only take sugar if you’re craving it."
Sara slid out of the machine. "Your turn, dear."
"Do I gotta?” said Todd.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she soothed. “And it only looks at your insides."
+
Todd walked into the machine like a man heading for his execution. _This is it. This is where it all goes wrong…_
"Oh, *Todd*…” Sara whispered. “Your poor bones…"
He knew what she was seeing. Lumps and bumps on his skeleton. The long-term evidence of a violent past. Green-stick fractures, spiral breaks, shattered long-bones and bludgeoned ribs… he had it all. Even a crack on his head or three. "It’s all in the past,” he said. “Been an’ gone. Nuttin’ to be done."
"Someone tried to *strangle* you,” said Sara. “You could still press charges."
"He already in jail fo’ worse,” Todd said, not wanting to look at her face. Seeing her feeling for him, for his past pains, would be too much.
“To misquote a movie, dear, your body is a map of pain."
"Bygones, babe. It’s over, now."
"Don’t you want the ones who did this put away?"
"Pops is dead,” he said, his voice empty. “He ain’t hurtin’ no-one, now."
A tiny gasp. ”*Oh*… I see.“
Clever kid like Sara could put it together, Todd knew. She could envision a brutal man who beat his family finding out his freakish son was more freakish than he could have believed. She could see that man flying into a rage… a protective mother, listening to her instincts…
Todd saw it all first-hand again. He’d been just a boy, barely past ten, watching in horror with his hands clinging to the cheap plastic of the kitchen table - as his Mom put a knife into Pops, stabbing again and again until the monster went down.
She might not have been able to divine the next part, where Mom, in a panic, ran the same knife across her throat - afraid of going to jail.
"Mr Tolensky, have you been eating regularly?” said Hank.
“Yeah?” he answered. _If yo’ count bugs._
“Odd…” Hank frowned. “You’re showing signs of malnutrition."
"That ain’t right,” he said. “Bugs are pure protein."
"Darling,” said Sara. “You can starve to death on just protein. The human body needs other things. Even a *mutant* one."
_Pietro, you stupid fuck,_ thought Todd. _I’m'a gettin’ even all *over* yo’ sorry ass._
~~
The house was quiet. Neither Pietro nor Tabitha were home yet, their absence made all the more noticeable by the lack of an annoying kid brother bouncing off the walls. Lance hadn’t bothered to apologise before hanging up the phone. He had thumped his forehead against the wall a few times, in some odd form of penance. Making an ass of himself in front of Kitty was bad enough, but it hadn’t been justified even toward Xavier.
The man was a little hoity toity for Alvers’ taste, but he’d given him a chance in the past. In Lance’s mind that equated to deserving a smidgeon of respect. It was also a question of pride. He was the Brotherhood’s acting leader, Xavier was the X-geeks’. That made them more or less on the same level, right? That meant some maturity was expected of him as well. And he’d gone and blown it in one moment of anger and panic.
Lance stalked into the kitchen to find Freddy guiltily staring at the food Sara had left behind. "What’s with you? Stop moping.” He yanked open the fridge and grabbed a bottled water. Water helped make the headaches go away. “There’s no way she’d stay over there. Not if Todd’s here."
"What if he stays?” Freddy pondered. Lance coughed on his water and had to turn toward the sink and spit part of it out.
“He won’t,” Lance croaked. “Todd’s not going to lose his head over a girl. And Sara’s too smart to fight. How bad do you think Wolverine will scare her? He scared Rogue.”(1) Both of them winced; as if by speaking the goth girl’s name Lance had jinxed all possibility of Sara’s return.
Fred put his chin on the table top, his expression making him look for all the world like a noble wolfhound. “I hope she comes back. I wanted to cook her something nice. She’s never tasted my cooking. It’s one of the few things I’m good at."
Alvers looked at him thoughtfully, wondering if he was right in guessing that Todd hadn’t been the only one who’d fallen for Sara. She paid attention to both of them, was sincere and female. It wasn’t as if they could afford to be picky. And Todd had gotten to her first. Most likely because Freddy was shyer. Being open about his feelings had backfired on him in a big way; enough to make him taciturn about them. Todd’s openness had and still did backfire on him horribly, but he was too hopeful and too used to pain to be beaten down. Therein lied the difference.
A door slammed open and a whirlwind entered the kitchen, sending plastic cups rolling and paper napkins in a flurry. The fridge opened, slammed, bounced open again to swing out on its hinges. Lance shut it with a growl as Pietro finally became visible. He leaned against the far wall with a sandwich in his hand. "So I heard all about it. X-geeks get the freako, we get free food. Where’s Toad? Passed out still?"
"He’s over there with her."
Pietro stopped chewing. He stared at Lance and then swallowed. "He’s doing what over there exactly?"
"Dunno,” Lance said coolly. “Might be that he’s just making sure she’s okay."
"Christ, she’s a meal and a money ticket. I don’t know what else he sees in her. Here.” Pietro reached into his pocket and pulled out two thin wallets. One was purple and had a silver clasp, the other was blue with green flowers. “Donations from a few admiring fans of mine. About fifty bucks in each one. I can get more. Tell him we don’t need her."
Lance snorted in disgust and anger but Freddy lost his temper and stood up, sending the chair crashing and the table to wobbling.
"Ha! Nice one, Blobbo–ACK!"
Fred had moved with surprising speed for his size, hoisting Pietro up by the neck. "Whoa!” Lance cried and stepped forward, trying to think of how to calm the boy down.
“Putmedown!"
"Sara’s a friend, not a meal ticket you dumb fuckhead!"
Lance blinked. It was the first time he, or any of them, had heard Fred use the 'f’ word louder than a mutter.
"She may not be your friend, but she is my friend - and Todd’s and maybe even Lance’s! And she didn’t have ta do all this for us, even after you went and spied on her!"
_Fuck. Is Pietro turning purple?_ Alvers gulped, feeling lost as to what to do. Freddy was really pissed off.
"I oughta pound your face in for all the stuff you’ve done to her, but she wouldn’t like me to do that. She says it’s not me an’ she’s right. So here’s something I think I would do.” Freddy grabbed the kitchen scissors. Lance flinched and Pietro squealed like a dying rabbit, squirming even harder to get away.
Snip. Snip. Clatter. With a proud smile, Fred let the scissors drop onto the table as two white pieces of hair fell to the ground. Pietro blinked in shock, one hand going up to feel his shorn forelocks that he so carefully swept back and gelled every morning. They were still gelled enough to stick straight up and back, but short and tufted at the end - giving him the appearance of a severely disturbed owl.
Lance stared at Freddy, who was still beaming, at the two tufts of hair on the floor, and Pietro’s shell-shocked expression. First there was a moment of immense relief that no-one was dead or in need of an ambulance. Then he leaned against the doorway and burst into gales of hysterical laughter.
+
“Just how long have you been living on only bugs?” Hank asked.
“Um… about two weeks - no wait, had some dinner last night. There were noodles and rice at that place you and me went, Sara.” He’d inhaled that stuff in even more quantities than the bugs.
“You’ve been drinking plenty of water I hope?"
"Yeah, I ain’t makin’ that mistake twice,” Todd assured him. “I thought I’d be okay on just bugs,” he tried to explain. “I mean it would’ve saved food for the others and they wouldn’t have had ta worry about one more mouth to feed."
Hank winced and exchanged glances with Xavier. "I take it you’ve been having financial problems?"
"Word, yo. Way much. Sara saved our necks when she bought groceries."
"I see,” Xavier said, raising an amused eyebrow. Todd desperately hoped he wasn’t picking up any of the other charitable activities Sara had done for them. “If I may ask, who suggested this dietary tract for you?"
(1) I’m guessing Mystique never really told them she was 'Wolverine’ to Rogue, for fear they’d let it slip. And Rogue probably talked about her experience.
~
Sara raised an eyebrow as she studied Todd’s expression. "I think that’s a hot subject, Professor,” she said. “Almost - savoury… wouldn’t you say, dear?”[1]
_Whut?_ thought Todd. _Waitaminute. Savoury. Pie._ He laughed in spite of himself. “Yeah, babe. Exactly right, yo."
For once, old Baldy looked perplexed. "Ex-cuse me?” he managed.
“Ah, it’s just a thing, yanno?” Todd babbled. “It’s like, 'what’s fo’ dinner?’ 'Eat a bug.’ 'When’s breakfast?’ 'Eat a bug.’ After a while, I got tired o’ askin’."
"I *knew* I should have steered you towards some of the duck[2]…” said Sara.
“Ain’t yo’ fault, babe,” he breezed. “I didn’t wanna touch nuttin’ wit’ th’ flippers still on. It’s coo’. I try to get myself some *good* stuff, a'ight?"
"There should be more than 'try’ about it, dear. I know some old English recipes, perhaps…” Sara turned to Xavier. “If I may make a mess in your kitchen?"
Gotta love a girl who’d do so much and say it like that…
Xavier had a let’s-see-what-happens look on his face. "Yes, of course. I believe Hank needs some time to gather the intelligence tests."
There were some meaningful raised eyebrows between the two elder men.
Todd got a creepy feeling settling over his spine before Sara extracted him from the macroscope.
"Come along,” she said. “I’ll show you how to make clootie dumplings[3]."
"But–” Todd protested.
Her long strides ate up distance. “It’s going to be *fun*."
"But–” Now he was hurrying to keep up.
“I *promise* to share the ingestion experience."
"But–” he gasped. “They *up* to somethin’."
Sara stopped and pivoted in one movement, so fast that Todd collided with her. "I didn’t sense anything nefarious,” she said. “But then, I rarely do…"
Reluctant though he was to let go in a near-hug situation, Todd forced himself to do so. "I don’ *think* it was nasty, but… I still think they up to something."
"If they break their word with me,” Sara announced, “they only have one more chance."
There was that thing with second chances, again. "What is it wit’ you an’ second chances, anyway?"
"Everyone and everything deserves one,” she said. “Even if they don’t always get it.” Some ancient sadness shone in her eyes. Sara blinked, and it was gone. “It’s just my little way of giving what I don’t have."
_Oh yeah. Her Mom…_ His mental camera youthed Sara down to six, just beginning to get her famous height, and watching with tears in her eyes as her own mother disowned her. She had no-one to cry to, at the very moment she was handed the "Best Effort” award - her Mom turned into a dragon. _Ouch._ It hurt him to say it, but he *had* to. “Hey,” he said. “Mebbe gettin’ in here might give yo’ one…"
She smiled warmly as if he’d told a joke. "Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you how to make mutton and clootie dumplings, and then we’ll make vegetable medly fritters."
+
Meanwhile…
Pietro fingered the frizzy stumps of his bangs and emitted a weak squeak.
"Hey,” said Tabby. “I think you broke him."
Lance waved his hand in front of the frozen speedster’s face. "Hell-*lo*? Pie? You still in there?” It had ceased being funny when he realized Pietro had apparently not breathed in, yet.
“…hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…” rattled Pietro.
“Wow,” said Freddy. “What a wimp. I never got bent outta shape when Tabby gave *me* a haircut…"
"That’s because you’re ugly, anyway,” said Tabby. “I wonder what’d happen if I drew on his face?"
"Don’t,” said Lance, possibly on automatic.
Pietro breathed in. At last. It was a long, drawn-out inhalation.
“You… *CUT*… my… *HAIR*…” he anguished.
“You were being an ass,” said Fred. “So?"
"You *cut*… my *hair*…"
"I’m'a get a soda,” said Tabby. “I think he might be a while."
"Youcutmy*HAIR*!"
"Okay, that one was on normal speed,” said Lance. “He must be getting better."
Pietro took another deep breath. The fires of retribution blazed around his soul. ”*NOBODY* MESSES WITH THE 'DO!“
”…ohfuck…“ squeaked Lance.
Pietro let loose an anguished howl and flew into a blur around Freddy. There was a sound like a woodpecker in a pillow factory on fast forward. "Youfuckingbastard, youcutmyhair! Nobodycutsmyhairbut*ME*! Youfuckingbastard, whydon'tyoufuckingdieyoufatfuck? You'reafuckingbastarddoyouhearme? Afuckingfatbastard!"
Fred, for the record, just stood there. When he judged that he’d heard enough of Pietro the Broken Record, he simply moved his hand to intersect Pie’s face.
"You'reafatfuckingprick, youfuckingbas–” {SPLAT}
Freddy lifted him up, and transferred his grip to Pie’s shirtfront. “Diss Sara again,” he said slowly, “and I’ll get the shaver. Understood?"
[1] Sara speaks in code. It’s one of her annoying habits.
[2] Duck is very rich food.
[3] Also a very rich food.
~