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Shortly before stuffed animals begin singing to Nate, the perpetrator wakes up.
Marius blinked awake.
His initial wash of confusion was almost immediately replaced by amazement at his capacity to be so. It had been a long time since he'd felt much of anything.
For a moment he just lay in bed, unable to understand how . . . good he felt. He could remember sleep -- more and more of it, these last days -- but he was beginning to realize it had been weeks since he had felt he'd really woken up. He wondered why he'd never noticed before.
He stared at the ceiling, fascinated by how sharp the world seemed. The flourescent lights and sterile, chemical smell told him that he was in hospital again. That confused him, too, because he seemed to remember fighting with his father about that, but there was no way of telling how long ago that had been. Not that he could complain, now. Guess they finally found something that worked . . .
Pleased with his deductions, Marius decided to find a nurse, or orderly, or whatever they were called these days. He had to call his father. Now that he was feeling himself again there was no reason whatever treatment they'd found for him couldn't be continued at home.
He tried to sit up, and paused.
"Uh," he said to no one in particular, "why am I tied to the bed?"
Moira had heard the little sighs and beeps from the machines that meant that Sleeping Beau was waking up. Turning, she tucked his file--what there was of one--under her arm and made her way to his bed.
"Good mornin'. Or, well, afternoon I should say." She gave him a bit of a smile. He seemed perfectly himself right now. Actually, he looked better than when he had come in.
"Well, ye attacked a teacher when I went ta fetch some papers." Moira decided to leave out the part that he had attacked her husband.
Marius blinked again. The woman looked familiar, and once he began pursuing the source of that familiarity the images from the past few days began to trickle back. There had been . . . a plane ride, a private one, though given his sense of time lately he'd have to take the fact that he seemed to remember it as long on faith. He was fairly sure his father's men had been with him, though. After that his father's people had gotten into some kind of vehicle . . . taken him to some new place.
His fuzzy memory finally focused. Ah -- she was one of his new doctors. That was where he'd met her before.
"Attacked?" Marius repeated, replaying her dialogue now that he'd placed her. He tried to summon some memory of this, but all he could unearth was a vague impression of having been escorted into a medical ward. He wasn't turning up anything on an attack. He was sure he'd have remembered something like that, especially since he had barely been able to sit up for the past two months.
"When I came back, ye had yer hands wrapped around his throat," Moira responded, putting the file down so she could start examining him. Eyes looked normal and the readings were actually rather good. "Jus' in case ye cannae remember, I'm Dr. Moira MacTaggart. Ye were in a rather sorry state when ye arrived. Lookin' better now, though."
She frowned and mentally went over the results from the tests she had run before. Whatever was going on was rather--strange, to say the least. Some inkling of an idea was starting to form but she wasn't about to jump to any conclusions.
Though now that he was awake, and more coherant, she had a better chance of figuring everything out. "Yer at Charles Xavier's school for gifted students--mutants--in New York."
"Ah . . ." Now he remembered. His father had sent him here when those blisters on his hands had finally . . .
Marius frowned, and craned his neck forward. By twisting his wrist in the restraints he could just make out his palm -- and the mouthful of teeth that had developed there only a few days ago.
"Well, sod," he said, feeling this did not adequately covered it. "I wondered what the eerie li'l buggers were for."
There was no obvious reason to keep him in the restraints currently, Moira decided, and started unhooking them. Besides, she kept something on hand if a patient ever needed to be sedated quickly.
"May I?" she asked, pointing at his hands. When he shrugged and offered them to her she turned one over, studying the mouth. "Aye. I'm nay one hundred percent positive o' wha' happened, but these were latched around Nathan's neck. An' ye look better than when ye arrived."
Cautiously, she poked around the edges of the mouth on his hand.
"I feel better. Better than I have in months." Marius' fingers twitched a bit under the pressure, but there was no obvious reaction from the orifice.
"They don't feel much," Marius said, watching her explorations with curiosity. "Was a bit odd when the doc tried to flush 'em with saline, though. There's something a bit off about feeling cold in the middle of your hands."
"I can only imagine," Moira said with a smile. There was very little reaction from touching the epidermis surrounding the mouth. Reaching over, she rummaged through one of the drawers to the side and pulled out a tongue depessor. Small, one of the kinds she used for either kids or the ones who had trouble with the bigger ones.
Gently, she applied pressure to the teeth, mentally noting that they reminded her of kitten teeth--small, slender looking but sharp looking as well. And also started investigating the palate area since she was right there.
External pressure from the depressor bent the teeth downwards a fraction of a centimeter; a little upward pressure applied from beneath the lip of the rima oris revealed the tendency was to spread upwards and outwards. If the wounds on Nate's neck and wrist were any indication, their function was to pierce the skin and hold the mouth in place during . . . whatever they had done.
The depression the teeth encircled -- the palate, for lack of a better word -- wasn't deep; perhaps only a centimeter and a half. The tissue was greyish-pink, firm and slightly ridged, and generally bore a slightly uncomfortable resemblence to a normal hard palate in miniature. She prodded a side experimentally.
"Not much there, either," Marius said. "It feels like . . . well, touchin' the roof of my mouth after a gumful of novacain. Mostly pressure'n that." He frowned at her. "So . . . what exactly is it I'm supposed to have done with these? Chew on a bloke? Not that I've been in a state to experiment, but near as I could tell they don't really do anything."
"I'm nay exactly sure yet," she said with a sigh, finishing up poking at the mouth finally. Well, it didn't seem to be 'active', so no biting was a good sign. "Ye dinnae attack meself but ye apparently went nuts when ye came inta contact wit' Nathan. Who, by th' way, is a mutant. I'm nay. I know there's a connection but..."
Marius just looked at her. "Can't help you there. I've never met a mutant, s'far as I know. Never jumped on anyone before, either. At least not outside of sport."
The smile she gave him was encouraging. "Thankfully I've been workin' wit' mutants for a verra long time now," Moira said, heading over to a counter top so she could grab some water for him. "I've got some ideas but I need to run more tests, some which needed ye ta be awake for. Ye'll be fine, yer in one o' th' best places for us ta figure this out."
Marius didn't bother to suppress his sigh. More tests. The last three months had been nothing but tests. Still . . . at least he felt awake now. That was more than the other doctors had managed, and anyway, his parents had very specific views on demonstrating appropriate gratitude.
"Exams aren't a favorite, but I suppose I can take 'em now I'm workin' with people who have a clue," Marius said. He managed a smile. "So, it's a mutant thing. Anything else I should know? Aside from the throttlin' people bit."
"Well." Moira paused and then frowned. "After th' attack on th' staff member, ye suddenly were able ta use telekinis...in fact, felt like _his_ power, nay yers. Since I dinnae see anythin' on 'ere about 'avin' tha' ability. Caused a bit o' a knock around wit' tha', I've got some bruises and we 'ad ta bring in some emergancy equipment."
"Telekinesis? That's movin' stuff with your brain, right?" Marius swept another net through the cloudy depths of his memory. "If I did have it, I don't think I could've used it before. Brain wasn't really engaging for the past few weeks." He raised a quizzical eyebrow at the doctor. "So . . . if that's not my mutation, then what -- I stole it?"
"Somethin' like tha', I'd 'ave ta assume. Telekinesis is th' power tha' allows ye ta move objects wit' yer brain. Th' reason I'm assumin' ye dinnae 'ave it before was tha' telekinesis takes a lot o' control ta deal wit' an' 'tis a pretty noticeable mutation under stress. Nay a peep in th' files tha' were faxed over."
She glanced over the read outs one more time. "We 'ave someone who does tha'," Moira said, softly. "Or we did, she moved to Canada. Name was Rogue an' jus' by touch, she absorbed other people's life forces an' powers."
Marius snorted. "Life-force? Gettin' a bit close to Anne Rice territory there, aren't we?"
The look she gave him could probably have cut through stone. "An' ye 'ave mouths on yer hands, lad," she said, sharply but not unkindly. "Mutants tend ta disregard normal science. An' copyright material."
Her glare was amazing. Marius invoked the displeasure of authority figures on a regular basis, but Moira's stare was something else. He was impressed; he actually caught himself feeling uncomfortable.
"I'll . . . keep that in mind," he managed. "This is a bit new, is all."
The glare faded pretty quickly. "I know, I understand, trust me. But it looks as if th' borrowed powers go away after a while, though I'm nay sure how long since ye dinnae 'ave a hold on him all tha' lon' and ye've been out for a while."
"What happened, anyway? Did I pass out?" Marius had been wondering about that. Telekinesis and throttling was all very good, but now that he'd gotten past the initial elation of feeling other than an outside observer in his own mind he was becoming aware of what felt suspiciously like a full-body bruise.
"Um, well, nay quite." Moira looked a little sheepish. "Cain Marko, our groundskeeper an' a teacher 'ere, kind o'...bounced ye off a wall, really, an' restrained ye so I could check ye out."
"What, even with all the throwin' people around with my brain?" Marius grinned. Oh, yes, now he could feel it. He ached, but he was used to that sort of pain. It had been a long time since his body had ached for any reason other than his inexplicably failing health. It hurt, but it was the good sort of hurt.
"I for one like me patients in semi-workin' order," Moira teased, realising that she was probably going to like this young man. She'd seen worse, that was for sure. "Besides, 'e only bounced ye a wee bit."
She frowned and tapped her chin. The signs all pointed to the fact that he could sense mutants and took something from them. The attack on Nathan but the lack of it on Cain and herself was a large clue. But no conclusion was ever brought about by simple guesswork.
As much as hated to do so, she needed a "test subject". And she had an idea of who might be willing.
#Jean?# Moira called out to her fellow doctor. #I need a 'and wit' somethin'.# Quickly, she relayed the problem and what she wanted to do. #I can strap 'im back down an' call in...Cain, would work, ta make sure ye werenae 'urt but I cannae be certain until I 'ave more data available.#
Jean considered, sorting through the knowledge Moira had given her, then nodded to herself. #You may be on to something. Call Cain and I'll be right down.# Probably Jean could keep the boy off her if she had to, but these days it didn't seem like it would be a good idea to be risking any of their medical staff if they could avoid it.
#Will do.#
Turning back to Marius, she gave him an apologietic smile. "We're goin' ta try somethin' an' I need ye ta trust me on this," Moira said. "I'm goin' ta need ta strap ye back in, jus' for a wee while, okay? I need ta test a theory out."
Reaching down, she paged Cain to come down to the MedLab.
A test that involved restraints? Well, at least it promised to be more interesting than bloodwork. Marius settled back in the bed, still perversely pleased by his body's protests, and allowed Moira to secure his arms again.
Cain checked the message on his pager. "TO MEDLAB AT CONVENIENCE." With a shrug, he turned around and opened the door, sticking his head in from where he'd remained guarding the door. "It's 'at my convenience'. What's up?"
"Well, ye came far," she teased. "I need ye ta keep watch, jus' in case somethin' goes wrong. We're tryin' a wee bit o' an experiment."
#Jean? We're ready when ye are. Jus' come on in until...# She eyed the space. #Close, six inches, say?#
Tugging at her ponytail to tighten it, Jean headed down the hall and entered the main room. She hesitated at the door, then slowly walked closer to the boy.
"Marius, this is Dr. Jean Grey--one o' th' many redheaded doctors we 'ave workin' in 'ere." Deliberatly, she left out the part where Jean was a mutant. This was, after all, part of the experiment. Standing back, Moira watched carefully.
Marius didn't reply. He'd been a little taken aback by the sudden appearance of someone of Cain's bulk, but that had quickly been eclipsed by the enterance of Jean. Now he was transfixed by the doctor, a look of vague confusion on his face.
"She's -- different." He wasn't sure what made him say it, but he was sure it was true. It wasn't a smell, or a taste, or any other information he was used to receiving from his five senses. He couldn't explain how, but he knew the new doctor wasn't like the other two. There was something . . . more.
Cain leaned over towards Moira, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. "I know Jeannie's a babe and all, but is the kid's reaction, er, normal?"
Smacking him lightly with a file, she couldn't help but snicker a little bit. "Nay, this is not normal. Babe though she may be. I thought somethin' like this might happen, but let's wait an' see, aye?"
Jean gave Moira a Look. Cain calling her a babe was not that strange, but coming from Moira there was that added "...er..." factor.
"Marius, right? It's nice to meet you." Carefully, Jean walked closer, making sure to stay on the outside of Moira's six inch range.
Normally Marius would have responded to this, but something unsettling was happening at the end of his arm. Muscles he hadn't known he had were working in the palm of the hand nearest Jean. Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, Marius half-sat up in an effort to twist his other arm so he could grab at his wrist.
Moira rolled her eyes and lightly batted the boy's forehead with his own file. "Enough for tha' later," she said and then paused, the idea of a mystery that did not involve surgery lighting up her eyes. "Besides, I'm th' bloody doctor so I get first dibs on seein'."
Marius made the beginner's mistake of trying to assert control. "It's my hand--"
"An' I also 'ave access ta th' nice 'appy drugs," she grumped, getting a good grip on his hand. Besides, she was afraid he'd pick at them or something or--okay, no, she really wasn't. What she was was curious as hell.
The tiny teeth were bowed outwards, straining towards Jean. As Moira watched, she observed the muscles rippled the teeth in a fractional -- but definite -- undulation. Nathan's wounds and her own examination had given her some idea of what to expect, but even so . . .
"I can't help but notice everyone's gone very quiet," said Marius.
Jean had frozen in place eyeing the... well, it was clearly a mouth, straining towards her. "Moira...?" she asked, definitely not planning on getting any closer just now. Being considered a snack food didn't really sit well with her just now.
Moira nodded as she watched the little mouths churn. "Aye, as I suspected." She smiled at Jean. "Dinnae worry, I doubt yer in any danger, nay only due ta 'im bein' restrained an' from Cain but...he "fed" on Nathan a few days ago. I'm goin' ta do some bloodwork an' tests but this pretty much confirmed my theory."
Marius fixed Moira with a look which could have been interpreted either as awed respect or the belief that she was completely out of her mind. "Have to say," he ventured, "you lot are taking this amazingly well. An' can she move back a bit? Only the twitchin' is gettin' a bit . . ." he searched for the appropriate word, "creepy."
"Of course," Jean said absently, stepping back farther out of range. "This is fascinating, Moira," she said. "Strange, but fascinating."
"Me, I'm still at strange." The muscles in his hand relaxed as Jean moved away, which helped. Still, he was left with the desperate urge to scratch his palm.
She watched in fascination at the reaction to Jean moving away, the mouths relaxing but still looking--aware, if a mouth on a palm of the hand COULD be aware, anyway. "Welcome ta Xavier's where we do bot' strange an' fascinatin' all in one go."
Cain bent his head down, looking at Marius' hands. "And fuckin' creepy, too."
Marius wrinkled his nose. "Does the fact that I feel in no way inclined to jump on her earn me any points?" he asked. He glanced at Jean again, and ammended himself. "Well, aside from the bit where you're a babe, but otherwise not in a weird way." He grinned. "No worries on the first bit, I'm a gentleman."
"Well, tha' certainly does help." Smiling a little bit, she nodded at the other two. "I think we can let ye up now, since whatever urge's 'appened 'ave gone away now." Moira tapped his hand gently. "Ye 'ave any gloves or somethin'? Nay jus' ta cover them up but I'm always a wee bit worried 'bout infection..."
Marius nodded. "Mum brought my rugby gloves 'round first day they showed. Someone should've packed 'em." He grimaced. "No gauze. Gets caught on the teeth."
That would be a good way to have Jean discretely head out before they undid the restraints, just in case. "Jean, would ye mind gettin' them? I think they were left in th' lounge area, since there wasnae a real place ta put them."
Jean caught the thought and nodded. "Of course. I'll go look." She nodded to Marius, "It was nice meeting you," then slipped out into the hall, heading for the lounge.
"Right, let's get ye out o' these an' get some food inta ye. Ye'll be right as rain soon enough." Moira smiled. "After th' tests, o' course."
"As long as I'm not tied to the bed for the rest've 'em, I think I can handle it." He sat up once Moira had undone his restraints, raising his hands for inspection. The mouths were quiescent again, which was a relief. Marius pondered for a moment, then mentally shrugged. Still unsettling, but at least now he knew they served a purpose -- and since that purpose seemed to be connected to saving his life, he could live with it.
Though this didn't stop him from using his free hand to vigorously scratch his palm. They may be useful, but they sure as hell weren't comfortable.
There was something else, though. Now that Jean had vacated the room, Marius' attention was free to take note of the other stranger -- was, in fact, advised to take note of the other stranger, as there was only so long one could ignore a man who was over two meters tall, almost as broad at the shoulder, and looking at you as if you owed him money. Especially when he seemed familiar.
Marius glanced askance at Moira, nodding his head at Cain. "Er. And he would be . . ?"
Cain gave a wide grin, looming over the heads of the doctors. "Me? Oh, I'm not one of the doctors. Something about that whole 'do no harm' thing just never sat well with me. I'm sure one of these lovely ladies will fill you in. That bein' said, I'm gonna go back out and keep making sure none of our resident delinquents try and sneak past that door." With a jaunty wave, Cain sidled back out of the medlab.
"Tha' would be th' man tha'...'elped restrain ye," Moira said dryly. "Cain Marko, groundskeeper an' one o' th' teachers at th' school."
". . .Wow." That about summed it up. Then Marius made a connection, and raised his eyebrows in awe. "And . . . he's not even a mutant." All evidence was to the contrary, but he was sure of that. Whatever had drawn his attention to Jean wasn't any more present in Cain than it had been in Moira.
Moira arched an eyebrow. This was something she hadn't anticipated. Still, it could be left to later. "Mr. Marko is a man o' many talents," she said with perfect honesty.
"So it looks," Marius agreed. His eyes returned to the door Cain had so recently vacated. "When can I get out of here?" This was all very fascinating, but what he really wanted was to get out of this bed.
"After the tests," Moira reminded him, gently but firmly. "It helps tha' ye don't seem ta be ravin' mad, but ye'll excuse us if we err on the side o' caution. After tha'. . ." she gave him an encouraging smile. "We'll see."
Marius sighed. Well, it was better than nothing, and a hell of a lot better than what the past few months had offered. He was alive, and he was himself again. He could be patient for a little while longer.
Marius straightened in his bed and nodded to Moira. "Right," he said, "let's be started, then."
Marius blinked awake.
His initial wash of confusion was almost immediately replaced by amazement at his capacity to be so. It had been a long time since he'd felt much of anything.
For a moment he just lay in bed, unable to understand how . . . good he felt. He could remember sleep -- more and more of it, these last days -- but he was beginning to realize it had been weeks since he had felt he'd really woken up. He wondered why he'd never noticed before.
He stared at the ceiling, fascinated by how sharp the world seemed. The flourescent lights and sterile, chemical smell told him that he was in hospital again. That confused him, too, because he seemed to remember fighting with his father about that, but there was no way of telling how long ago that had been. Not that he could complain, now. Guess they finally found something that worked . . .
Pleased with his deductions, Marius decided to find a nurse, or orderly, or whatever they were called these days. He had to call his father. Now that he was feeling himself again there was no reason whatever treatment they'd found for him couldn't be continued at home.
He tried to sit up, and paused.
"Uh," he said to no one in particular, "why am I tied to the bed?"
Moira had heard the little sighs and beeps from the machines that meant that Sleeping Beau was waking up. Turning, she tucked his file--what there was of one--under her arm and made her way to his bed.
"Good mornin'. Or, well, afternoon I should say." She gave him a bit of a smile. He seemed perfectly himself right now. Actually, he looked better than when he had come in.
"Well, ye attacked a teacher when I went ta fetch some papers." Moira decided to leave out the part that he had attacked her husband.
Marius blinked again. The woman looked familiar, and once he began pursuing the source of that familiarity the images from the past few days began to trickle back. There had been . . . a plane ride, a private one, though given his sense of time lately he'd have to take the fact that he seemed to remember it as long on faith. He was fairly sure his father's men had been with him, though. After that his father's people had gotten into some kind of vehicle . . . taken him to some new place.
His fuzzy memory finally focused. Ah -- she was one of his new doctors. That was where he'd met her before.
"Attacked?" Marius repeated, replaying her dialogue now that he'd placed her. He tried to summon some memory of this, but all he could unearth was a vague impression of having been escorted into a medical ward. He wasn't turning up anything on an attack. He was sure he'd have remembered something like that, especially since he had barely been able to sit up for the past two months.
"When I came back, ye had yer hands wrapped around his throat," Moira responded, putting the file down so she could start examining him. Eyes looked normal and the readings were actually rather good. "Jus' in case ye cannae remember, I'm Dr. Moira MacTaggart. Ye were in a rather sorry state when ye arrived. Lookin' better now, though."
She frowned and mentally went over the results from the tests she had run before. Whatever was going on was rather--strange, to say the least. Some inkling of an idea was starting to form but she wasn't about to jump to any conclusions.
Though now that he was awake, and more coherant, she had a better chance of figuring everything out. "Yer at Charles Xavier's school for gifted students--mutants--in New York."
"Ah . . ." Now he remembered. His father had sent him here when those blisters on his hands had finally . . .
Marius frowned, and craned his neck forward. By twisting his wrist in the restraints he could just make out his palm -- and the mouthful of teeth that had developed there only a few days ago.
"Well, sod," he said, feeling this did not adequately covered it. "I wondered what the eerie li'l buggers were for."
There was no obvious reason to keep him in the restraints currently, Moira decided, and started unhooking them. Besides, she kept something on hand if a patient ever needed to be sedated quickly.
"May I?" she asked, pointing at his hands. When he shrugged and offered them to her she turned one over, studying the mouth. "Aye. I'm nay one hundred percent positive o' wha' happened, but these were latched around Nathan's neck. An' ye look better than when ye arrived."
Cautiously, she poked around the edges of the mouth on his hand.
"I feel better. Better than I have in months." Marius' fingers twitched a bit under the pressure, but there was no obvious reaction from the orifice.
"They don't feel much," Marius said, watching her explorations with curiosity. "Was a bit odd when the doc tried to flush 'em with saline, though. There's something a bit off about feeling cold in the middle of your hands."
"I can only imagine," Moira said with a smile. There was very little reaction from touching the epidermis surrounding the mouth. Reaching over, she rummaged through one of the drawers to the side and pulled out a tongue depessor. Small, one of the kinds she used for either kids or the ones who had trouble with the bigger ones.
Gently, she applied pressure to the teeth, mentally noting that they reminded her of kitten teeth--small, slender looking but sharp looking as well. And also started investigating the palate area since she was right there.
External pressure from the depressor bent the teeth downwards a fraction of a centimeter; a little upward pressure applied from beneath the lip of the rima oris revealed the tendency was to spread upwards and outwards. If the wounds on Nate's neck and wrist were any indication, their function was to pierce the skin and hold the mouth in place during . . . whatever they had done.
The depression the teeth encircled -- the palate, for lack of a better word -- wasn't deep; perhaps only a centimeter and a half. The tissue was greyish-pink, firm and slightly ridged, and generally bore a slightly uncomfortable resemblence to a normal hard palate in miniature. She prodded a side experimentally.
"Not much there, either," Marius said. "It feels like . . . well, touchin' the roof of my mouth after a gumful of novacain. Mostly pressure'n that." He frowned at her. "So . . . what exactly is it I'm supposed to have done with these? Chew on a bloke? Not that I've been in a state to experiment, but near as I could tell they don't really do anything."
"I'm nay exactly sure yet," she said with a sigh, finishing up poking at the mouth finally. Well, it didn't seem to be 'active', so no biting was a good sign. "Ye dinnae attack meself but ye apparently went nuts when ye came inta contact wit' Nathan. Who, by th' way, is a mutant. I'm nay. I know there's a connection but..."
Marius just looked at her. "Can't help you there. I've never met a mutant, s'far as I know. Never jumped on anyone before, either. At least not outside of sport."
The smile she gave him was encouraging. "Thankfully I've been workin' wit' mutants for a verra long time now," Moira said, heading over to a counter top so she could grab some water for him. "I've got some ideas but I need to run more tests, some which needed ye ta be awake for. Ye'll be fine, yer in one o' th' best places for us ta figure this out."
Marius didn't bother to suppress his sigh. More tests. The last three months had been nothing but tests. Still . . . at least he felt awake now. That was more than the other doctors had managed, and anyway, his parents had very specific views on demonstrating appropriate gratitude.
"Exams aren't a favorite, but I suppose I can take 'em now I'm workin' with people who have a clue," Marius said. He managed a smile. "So, it's a mutant thing. Anything else I should know? Aside from the throttlin' people bit."
"Well." Moira paused and then frowned. "After th' attack on th' staff member, ye suddenly were able ta use telekinis...in fact, felt like _his_ power, nay yers. Since I dinnae see anythin' on 'ere about 'avin' tha' ability. Caused a bit o' a knock around wit' tha', I've got some bruises and we 'ad ta bring in some emergancy equipment."
"Telekinesis? That's movin' stuff with your brain, right?" Marius swept another net through the cloudy depths of his memory. "If I did have it, I don't think I could've used it before. Brain wasn't really engaging for the past few weeks." He raised a quizzical eyebrow at the doctor. "So . . . if that's not my mutation, then what -- I stole it?"
"Somethin' like tha', I'd 'ave ta assume. Telekinesis is th' power tha' allows ye ta move objects wit' yer brain. Th' reason I'm assumin' ye dinnae 'ave it before was tha' telekinesis takes a lot o' control ta deal wit' an' 'tis a pretty noticeable mutation under stress. Nay a peep in th' files tha' were faxed over."
She glanced over the read outs one more time. "We 'ave someone who does tha'," Moira said, softly. "Or we did, she moved to Canada. Name was Rogue an' jus' by touch, she absorbed other people's life forces an' powers."
Marius snorted. "Life-force? Gettin' a bit close to Anne Rice territory there, aren't we?"
The look she gave him could probably have cut through stone. "An' ye 'ave mouths on yer hands, lad," she said, sharply but not unkindly. "Mutants tend ta disregard normal science. An' copyright material."
Her glare was amazing. Marius invoked the displeasure of authority figures on a regular basis, but Moira's stare was something else. He was impressed; he actually caught himself feeling uncomfortable.
"I'll . . . keep that in mind," he managed. "This is a bit new, is all."
The glare faded pretty quickly. "I know, I understand, trust me. But it looks as if th' borrowed powers go away after a while, though I'm nay sure how long since ye dinnae 'ave a hold on him all tha' lon' and ye've been out for a while."
"What happened, anyway? Did I pass out?" Marius had been wondering about that. Telekinesis and throttling was all very good, but now that he'd gotten past the initial elation of feeling other than an outside observer in his own mind he was becoming aware of what felt suspiciously like a full-body bruise.
"Um, well, nay quite." Moira looked a little sheepish. "Cain Marko, our groundskeeper an' a teacher 'ere, kind o'...bounced ye off a wall, really, an' restrained ye so I could check ye out."
"What, even with all the throwin' people around with my brain?" Marius grinned. Oh, yes, now he could feel it. He ached, but he was used to that sort of pain. It had been a long time since his body had ached for any reason other than his inexplicably failing health. It hurt, but it was the good sort of hurt.
"I for one like me patients in semi-workin' order," Moira teased, realising that she was probably going to like this young man. She'd seen worse, that was for sure. "Besides, 'e only bounced ye a wee bit."
She frowned and tapped her chin. The signs all pointed to the fact that he could sense mutants and took something from them. The attack on Nathan but the lack of it on Cain and herself was a large clue. But no conclusion was ever brought about by simple guesswork.
As much as hated to do so, she needed a "test subject". And she had an idea of who might be willing.
#Jean?# Moira called out to her fellow doctor. #I need a 'and wit' somethin'.# Quickly, she relayed the problem and what she wanted to do. #I can strap 'im back down an' call in...Cain, would work, ta make sure ye werenae 'urt but I cannae be certain until I 'ave more data available.#
Jean considered, sorting through the knowledge Moira had given her, then nodded to herself. #You may be on to something. Call Cain and I'll be right down.# Probably Jean could keep the boy off her if she had to, but these days it didn't seem like it would be a good idea to be risking any of their medical staff if they could avoid it.
#Will do.#
Turning back to Marius, she gave him an apologietic smile. "We're goin' ta try somethin' an' I need ye ta trust me on this," Moira said. "I'm goin' ta need ta strap ye back in, jus' for a wee while, okay? I need ta test a theory out."
Reaching down, she paged Cain to come down to the MedLab.
A test that involved restraints? Well, at least it promised to be more interesting than bloodwork. Marius settled back in the bed, still perversely pleased by his body's protests, and allowed Moira to secure his arms again.
Cain checked the message on his pager. "TO MEDLAB AT CONVENIENCE." With a shrug, he turned around and opened the door, sticking his head in from where he'd remained guarding the door. "It's 'at my convenience'. What's up?"
"Well, ye came far," she teased. "I need ye ta keep watch, jus' in case somethin' goes wrong. We're tryin' a wee bit o' an experiment."
#Jean? We're ready when ye are. Jus' come on in until...# She eyed the space. #Close, six inches, say?#
Tugging at her ponytail to tighten it, Jean headed down the hall and entered the main room. She hesitated at the door, then slowly walked closer to the boy.
"Marius, this is Dr. Jean Grey--one o' th' many redheaded doctors we 'ave workin' in 'ere." Deliberatly, she left out the part where Jean was a mutant. This was, after all, part of the experiment. Standing back, Moira watched carefully.
Marius didn't reply. He'd been a little taken aback by the sudden appearance of someone of Cain's bulk, but that had quickly been eclipsed by the enterance of Jean. Now he was transfixed by the doctor, a look of vague confusion on his face.
"She's -- different." He wasn't sure what made him say it, but he was sure it was true. It wasn't a smell, or a taste, or any other information he was used to receiving from his five senses. He couldn't explain how, but he knew the new doctor wasn't like the other two. There was something . . . more.
Cain leaned over towards Moira, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. "I know Jeannie's a babe and all, but is the kid's reaction, er, normal?"
Smacking him lightly with a file, she couldn't help but snicker a little bit. "Nay, this is not normal. Babe though she may be. I thought somethin' like this might happen, but let's wait an' see, aye?"
Jean gave Moira a Look. Cain calling her a babe was not that strange, but coming from Moira there was that added "...er..." factor.
"Marius, right? It's nice to meet you." Carefully, Jean walked closer, making sure to stay on the outside of Moira's six inch range.
Normally Marius would have responded to this, but something unsettling was happening at the end of his arm. Muscles he hadn't known he had were working in the palm of the hand nearest Jean. Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, Marius half-sat up in an effort to twist his other arm so he could grab at his wrist.
Moira rolled her eyes and lightly batted the boy's forehead with his own file. "Enough for tha' later," she said and then paused, the idea of a mystery that did not involve surgery lighting up her eyes. "Besides, I'm th' bloody doctor so I get first dibs on seein'."
Marius made the beginner's mistake of trying to assert control. "It's my hand--"
"An' I also 'ave access ta th' nice 'appy drugs," she grumped, getting a good grip on his hand. Besides, she was afraid he'd pick at them or something or--okay, no, she really wasn't. What she was was curious as hell.
The tiny teeth were bowed outwards, straining towards Jean. As Moira watched, she observed the muscles rippled the teeth in a fractional -- but definite -- undulation. Nathan's wounds and her own examination had given her some idea of what to expect, but even so . . .
"I can't help but notice everyone's gone very quiet," said Marius.
Jean had frozen in place eyeing the... well, it was clearly a mouth, straining towards her. "Moira...?" she asked, definitely not planning on getting any closer just now. Being considered a snack food didn't really sit well with her just now.
Moira nodded as she watched the little mouths churn. "Aye, as I suspected." She smiled at Jean. "Dinnae worry, I doubt yer in any danger, nay only due ta 'im bein' restrained an' from Cain but...he "fed" on Nathan a few days ago. I'm goin' ta do some bloodwork an' tests but this pretty much confirmed my theory."
Marius fixed Moira with a look which could have been interpreted either as awed respect or the belief that she was completely out of her mind. "Have to say," he ventured, "you lot are taking this amazingly well. An' can she move back a bit? Only the twitchin' is gettin' a bit . . ." he searched for the appropriate word, "creepy."
"Of course," Jean said absently, stepping back farther out of range. "This is fascinating, Moira," she said. "Strange, but fascinating."
"Me, I'm still at strange." The muscles in his hand relaxed as Jean moved away, which helped. Still, he was left with the desperate urge to scratch his palm.
She watched in fascination at the reaction to Jean moving away, the mouths relaxing but still looking--aware, if a mouth on a palm of the hand COULD be aware, anyway. "Welcome ta Xavier's where we do bot' strange an' fascinatin' all in one go."
Cain bent his head down, looking at Marius' hands. "And fuckin' creepy, too."
Marius wrinkled his nose. "Does the fact that I feel in no way inclined to jump on her earn me any points?" he asked. He glanced at Jean again, and ammended himself. "Well, aside from the bit where you're a babe, but otherwise not in a weird way." He grinned. "No worries on the first bit, I'm a gentleman."
"Well, tha' certainly does help." Smiling a little bit, she nodded at the other two. "I think we can let ye up now, since whatever urge's 'appened 'ave gone away now." Moira tapped his hand gently. "Ye 'ave any gloves or somethin'? Nay jus' ta cover them up but I'm always a wee bit worried 'bout infection..."
Marius nodded. "Mum brought my rugby gloves 'round first day they showed. Someone should've packed 'em." He grimaced. "No gauze. Gets caught on the teeth."
That would be a good way to have Jean discretely head out before they undid the restraints, just in case. "Jean, would ye mind gettin' them? I think they were left in th' lounge area, since there wasnae a real place ta put them."
Jean caught the thought and nodded. "Of course. I'll go look." She nodded to Marius, "It was nice meeting you," then slipped out into the hall, heading for the lounge.
"Right, let's get ye out o' these an' get some food inta ye. Ye'll be right as rain soon enough." Moira smiled. "After th' tests, o' course."
"As long as I'm not tied to the bed for the rest've 'em, I think I can handle it." He sat up once Moira had undone his restraints, raising his hands for inspection. The mouths were quiescent again, which was a relief. Marius pondered for a moment, then mentally shrugged. Still unsettling, but at least now he knew they served a purpose -- and since that purpose seemed to be connected to saving his life, he could live with it.
Though this didn't stop him from using his free hand to vigorously scratch his palm. They may be useful, but they sure as hell weren't comfortable.
There was something else, though. Now that Jean had vacated the room, Marius' attention was free to take note of the other stranger -- was, in fact, advised to take note of the other stranger, as there was only so long one could ignore a man who was over two meters tall, almost as broad at the shoulder, and looking at you as if you owed him money. Especially when he seemed familiar.
Marius glanced askance at Moira, nodding his head at Cain. "Er. And he would be . . ?"
Cain gave a wide grin, looming over the heads of the doctors. "Me? Oh, I'm not one of the doctors. Something about that whole 'do no harm' thing just never sat well with me. I'm sure one of these lovely ladies will fill you in. That bein' said, I'm gonna go back out and keep making sure none of our resident delinquents try and sneak past that door." With a jaunty wave, Cain sidled back out of the medlab.
"Tha' would be th' man tha'...'elped restrain ye," Moira said dryly. "Cain Marko, groundskeeper an' one o' th' teachers at th' school."
". . .Wow." That about summed it up. Then Marius made a connection, and raised his eyebrows in awe. "And . . . he's not even a mutant." All evidence was to the contrary, but he was sure of that. Whatever had drawn his attention to Jean wasn't any more present in Cain than it had been in Moira.
Moira arched an eyebrow. This was something she hadn't anticipated. Still, it could be left to later. "Mr. Marko is a man o' many talents," she said with perfect honesty.
"So it looks," Marius agreed. His eyes returned to the door Cain had so recently vacated. "When can I get out of here?" This was all very fascinating, but what he really wanted was to get out of this bed.
"After the tests," Moira reminded him, gently but firmly. "It helps tha' ye don't seem ta be ravin' mad, but ye'll excuse us if we err on the side o' caution. After tha'. . ." she gave him an encouraging smile. "We'll see."
Marius sighed. Well, it was better than nothing, and a hell of a lot better than what the past few months had offered. He was alive, and he was himself again. He could be patient for a little while longer.
Marius straightened in his bed and nodded to Moira. "Right," he said, "let's be started, then."