Scott and "Marie", Wednesday

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott has another visitation from someone who isn't there. The only problem is, someone actually is there, and Scott's confusion leads him to give them something of what they want.


There were noises, again. Muffled, distant at first, they would come closer, until he could tell they were the low murmuring of voices and a rhythmic clicking. Then they'd stop. Then start up again, in the distance, and Scott laid there on the cold concrete floor, listening. It seemed very important to pay attention to them. Possibly because they were almost the only thing there. The cold floor beneath him, and the noises. One was numbing the pain, the other was numbing his mind.

It was a good balance, really. He thought he'd like to keep it. It was preferable to what happened when they asked questions. A shudder went through him, numbness or no numbness. There was a sudden draft, even icier across his bare skin, and he stiffened, his body rigid with fear. Movement. Right there, all of a sudden...

"There there sugah, don't fret." Marie's voice was gentle and paired with the smooth touch of silk across his forehead. "Glad to see you've decided to rejoin us, we were awful worried."

"Marie..." He barely managed her name. His voice was nearly gone. Not giving them the satisfaction of making noise while they were asking questions had gone by the wayside.

Everything he thought he'd known about being stoic, about enduring... nothing. Nonsense. None of it made any sense here. Silk brushed across his forehead again. The touch made him shiver, and he wondered... wondered what? It was too hard to think, to focus.

"There you go," she said encouragingly. "You've been saying the strangest things for the past few days." The silk touch moved to stroking his cheek. "Don't try an' move though, you're hurt pretty bad."

"Don't think I can..." He didn't know why he was still trying to talk. Except that it wasn't polite to not answer people, was it? They hurt you when you didn't talk. They didn't want to, but they did. Because you weren't helping yourself.

"Of course not." There was something sickeningly sweet in Marie's tone, like someone trying too hard to cover an unpleasant edge. "Now," she said, her voice moving from one side of his head to the other. "You know we really need you to tell us what those guys were trying to get outta of you."

"Alkali... they want to know about Alkali..." Cain had told him that he didn't know. Cain had been lying through his teeth.

"Ah see. What about Alkali? Did you tell them what you know?" The sound of clicking heels walking across a hard surface filled the room, pausing momentarily before starting up again.

"It's... it's all in pieces," Scott said without thinking. His voice was a little stronger, but still slurred. It was almost a relief to let himself think about all the things that had floated up out of the dark while they'd talked to him about what he'd seen. What he couldn't quite remember. They were trying to help him, and maybe it was working. Just a little. "Can't... remember all of it. The meeting. They were talking about... funding? Labs."

"Concentrate, Scott." A feather light touch across his arm was followed by a more insistent squeeze. "What about the labs? This is very important and you are doing so well."

Bits and pieces. Just harmless little bits and pieces. Fragments that didn't make any sense. Scott heard his own voice mumbling a few of them aloud. Strange names. He didn't recognize them, so they hardly mattered, did they?

"I'm so proud of you." The voice became colder and more calculating. "Tell me the rest and then I'll go get Jean and we can head on home. Alex is waiting for you." Marie's characteristic drawl suddenly began to dissipate.

... no, Alex was gone. The flat shock of that jolted through him. That wasn't true, Alex wasn't waiting out there. He'd just dreamed that part. Alex was far, far away, Alex was safe... Scott shifted, away from the voice that didn't sound right anymore. "No..." he muttered. "No, that's not right..." He was breathing faster, more raggedly. It couldn't be right.

"Yes it is," the voice said firmly. "Just keep talking, we need to know everything you know to help you."

"No." It was a weak protest, and Scott tried to sit up, to move away. But his hands were still restrained, and that struck him as odd, suddenly. The restraints were still there. Still digging into his wrists, too tight. Why wouldn't Marie have taken them off?

More to the point... why couldn't he see? Shock turned to something closer to panic.

"Yes." The grip on his arm tightened, though the voice again became overly saccharine. "You just need to be a good boy and keep talking and then it'll all get better."

The grip hurt, pressing against skin that was raw from electrical burns, and Scott gasped aloud, raggedly. "No... no, you're not..." Not Marie. "I w-won't-"

There was a disgusted mutter from somewhere above him. Before Scott could react, a booted foot landed in his ribs, from the other side. Pain shot through his chest, and Scott found himself less concerned suddenly with what was going on, and more concerned with trying to breathe.

Another kick and then a second voice spoke. "Well, that was more productive than the other times. We should try again later." A needle pierced Scott's skin and the voices faded as the drugs worked their way into his system.