Note: This chapter contains a scene that might be a little disturbing, the last out of 3 scenes. [PG-13]

Day Thirteen ∞ Wednesday morning

A WARM PRESSURE ON HIS SHOULDER brought him to awareness, and he smiled slowly, placing his hand on top of the cause.

"You asked me to wake you."

Danny drew a deep breath. Then his body spasmed into a yawning stretch before he opened his eyes, meeting Mickmi's gaze. "Hey...," he croaked and cleared his throat.

Just seeing her face was the best wake-up he'd ever had. She was kneeling beside him, already dressed in her exercise clothes.

"What time is it?"

"Quarter to five."

He still held her hand and, for a while, they remained in silent communion. The only intrusion was the occasional twitter of early morning birds floating in through the open window. He could just stay like this; he wished he could.

Get up. He sighed, closing his eyes to his internal voice. He'd better get up and get used to his new routine. Get up before Mom. At least he felt rested. He patted her hand and looked up at her again. "Go ahead; I'll catch up with you."

She rose smoothly to her feet, and he sat up, watching her as she headed through the door.

If it weren't for the floodlights, it would still have been totally dark outside when he stepped down from the porch in his track shoes. The air was comfortably cool. He did some stretches and started jogging on the spot before Mickmi appeared from the left side of the house with Zorro on her heels. He joined her, matching her easy strides; she was going at a relaxed pace.

"How many laps do you do now?" he asked.

"Fifty."

So she'd increased her numbers steadily in the past week. He couldn't remember when last he'd covered that kind of a distance. He'd only done about half that in the past nights. After three laps she increased her pace, and he matched it.

They ran in silence—two pairs of steadily pounding steps and synchronized breaths circling inside the perimeter of the yard. He'd counted thirty-eight laps when she reduced the speed again—she was still breathing with deep control where he, on the other hand, was laboring. But he held on, pushing himself through the increased burning in his lungs and legs. At least, this was more enjoyable than trying to run himself to sleep...

"Did you – use to – train much?" he managed to say between hard breaths when they finally stopped in the middle of the lawn for their cooling down exercises. He bent over in his soaking T-shirt, holding his knees as he panted. He turned his head to look at her; she was just glistening, not streaming.

She met his gaze serenely and answered, "Aye." She did not elaborate as she faced eastward and spread her legs into a lunge stretch.

They continued with their respective exercises in silence as the sky slowly brightened above the trees. Mickmi ended hers with her eyes closed as her arms flowed meditatively. Danny was sitting with his legs stretched out, leaning back on his hands when she finally spoke again. "I have caused your mother's anger with you..." She mirrored his pose beside him, but Zorro crept up to her and she gave the dog a rub between its ears.

He shook his head, meeting her concerned gaze. "No, you haven't," he said quietly—he didn't want his voice to travel into the house for Mother to hear. "I was gonna start riding my bike sooner or later anyway; she can't stop me." Mother had seen when he got Mickmi's bike off the truck yesterday, and she was watching when he'd brought his own bike outside for a test run in the yard. She had not spoken to him for the rest of the evening. "She won't dare to. Did you see yesterday's paper? I left it purposely open on the classifieds."

Mickmi shook her head in puzzlement. "I understand not."

"I was looking at rentals. I might as well start getting an idea of what's out there and what the prices are. If she knows I'm looking at my options then she won't dare to say anything because she doesn't want me to leave. Not that she's got any control over that anyway."

A furrow grew between Mickmi's brows. "Daniel... I must not be the cause of your separation from your family."

He leaned forward to take her hand. "Look: you being here makes no difference. I wasn't planning on staying here forever; it's gonna happen—sooner or later. It's a rite of passage."

She turned her head away, stroking Zorro over his shoulders as he rested his snout on her knee. "You have a mother... I remember none," she said eventually, her voice low.

Danny didn't know how to respond to that. He understood what she meant. He was lucky to know his mother and that his mother cared for him. But that didn't change anything. He knew exactly what he wanted.

∞

The mood at the auto shop was extra merry that morning with the new addition to the team. Danny waited a half hour after Mr. Myers exited the parts' shop before entering and hit the bell on the counter. "Miss! I'm gonna need some parts!" He grinned as Mickmi appeared from between the shelves, smiling.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a brake wheel cylinder for the Ford F240 out there," he said, wiping off the old one he'd removed with a rag before placing it on the counter. "It's leaking."

She gave the old metal and rubber object a quick once-over before looking the part up in one of the heavily thumbed, dog-eared catalogs. Then she headed without hesitation to one of the shelves in the depths of the shop and returned with a box that she placed on the counter before him. He raised his brow, checked the content and nodded in approval, looking up. She was making a notation in the logbook.

"Ehrm... I hope you're not writing in ceremonial script... No one'd be able to read that," he said half-jokingly.

She cut him an amused eye and turned the book to him for inspection. Her flowing handwriting was definitely using the regular English alphabet and digits.

He gave her a thumbs up, grinning. "You're working like a pro already! How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Learn so quickly."

"All I have ever done is learn and train. And Mr. Myers is very organized."

"All you've ever done is learn and train," he repeated to make sure that memory sank in.

"Aye... " She stared back at him.

"Is that all you did in your lifetime? Learn and train to become a leader?"

She frowned slightly, her gaze drifting away. "I am not a leader."

He put his hand on top of hers on the counter. "Of course not. You're young; you were still in training. You probably had several years to go before actually taking up that role. But I'm wondering, didn't you do anything else? No social life or hobbies or anything?"

Her frown became deeper as she searched her mind. After a few moments, she returned to him. "I think not..."

"I can't help but think you must've had a very boring life." He watched as her gaze became distant again.

"I knew nothing else. I was not bored."

"See? You're still making progress." He smiled encouragingly, squeezing her hand to bring her attention back to him. "You just made another step in the recovery of your memories. Keeping busy like this will allow more to come back to you. How d'you feel about having a job?"

She smiled gratefully. "It opens up possibilities... It feels good."

∞

Selina had lost track of the exact time of day, but she was still able to add up the hours. So much time had passed since the last interaction, she was almost beginning to wonder if they had forgotten her. But she knew they had not. One man remained in the control room, monitoring her and two were outside the door while the audio assault continued. Not a word was uttered on the floor for the entire period.

She was uncertain of when the transfer was scheduled for. The inactivity made her feel like there might have been a change of plans, and she did not want that to happen. The transfer meant putting further distance between them and The One; it meant building on the deception that she was the one who arrived in the vessel. The transfer was simply something that had to take place. So she decided to act and send out her probe to attract attention.

The response was immediate. As soon as her probe activated the sensors, there was a flurry of activity. Footsteps with wheels dragging approached down the corridor then entered the room: two men with the generator, defibrillator, and bucket. Then they parked themselves on either side of her and waited.

She made her probe browse the main floor and above, puzzled. Apocalypse was nowhere in the vicinity. But then, minutes later, he entered the building and came downstairs. She kept staring straight ahead while he did his usual routine.

"It's on the main floor, sir, all power gone."

She noticed Apocalypse did not react to the announcement in his ear, as if disinterested in her probe's activity. Instead, with everything in place, he injected her arm, which was immediately followed by ice water and then a man stepped behind her with the paddles. Everything went so fast that Selina did not get the chance to complete the ejection-isolation process before—

"Clear!"

—her torso constricted, neck flexing her to face the ceiling. Her atoms were now on autopilot from practice, absorbing the charge, but the drug had already spread to her chest, to her head, a different kind of pain searing through her bloodstream, through her nerves, flooding her senses. She lost control of her probe as the pain pushed through her throat as long hissing moan.

"We're in electrical overload... everything is beginning to short circuit."

Tears squeezed between her eyelids as she gasped for air in the pause, desperately trying to isolate the drug from her brain cells while at the same time reaching through the agony for her probe. Her eyes opened but her unfocus was under her brow as she struggled. 

Come... back...

"Clear!"

The surge cut momentarily through the pain, allowing her to reconnect and the probe snapped back into the room, hovering.

"It's right in front of you, sir."

Selina shut her eyes again, attempting to locate an unaffected area of her brain to start the ejection process and keep the probe from re-merging, Stay – apart, making it move away from her, up towards the ceiling. She could not formulate a communication through the agony, she was not able to project. She barely heard the chair move closer before another charge surged through her legs, shooting up her spine and neck, into her skull. She was getting the charge she...

"Two..."

...needed but she was still not able to direct it, the drug was—

"Three... "

...a fire in her mind and it had to burn, to burn away the effects—

"Four..."

...the effects of the burning drug, she had to burn the fire away and—

"Five..."

...feed her probe more atoms to become light—

"Six..."

— Her light self... But carefully, not all in one go...

"Seven... "

...not all in one go, because... Stay – separate, she must not appear...

"Eight..."

...not appear one and the same... Not – the – same...

"Nine..."

She needed to bring her thoughts together, through the fire...

"Ten."

...coherence was essential... And the surge ended, but her muscles were still contracting for several seconds as she exhaled a moan and drew several deep breaths for more oxygen.

She was aware of the silence. She was sensing Apocalypse sitting back, watching her with dispassionate interest. She knew he was playing a game with her. He was the cat, she was the mouse, just waiting for her to—

Communicate... I must – communicate... She was still battling the drug, she needed to be coherent and, Stay – apart...

"I'm sorry... did you say something? I didn't understand you."

Selina slowly opened her eyes but she was not seeing, her focus turned inward onto the searing drug. The spasms were releasing, but nerves from head to toe were still burning from the double dose of Amphetamine, her right hand clenched but her left hand still flat, trapped by the ever-present leather strap. 

Must – communicate... Her toes flexed in the water as she pushed herself up, lifting herself off the seat, pushing her chest up, shoulders back, trying to get a grip of the pain and quench it.

"It's by the light fixture, sir."

Current shot from her fingers up her arm again, and in the next instant—

"Clear!"

Yes... she found it, the last surge clearing space in her brain, her mind finding a foothold to launch from. She could begin the neutralizing process, starting from the very top, going down into the pain that was her head, her jaw, her flexing neck and shoulders, the contractions that did not end with five. The current oscillating from the depths of her core right out to her extremities, to her outer epidermis, made her momentarily desolidify, her hand about to pass through the strap before she caught herself, her eyes snapping open. 

Stay – together...

Slowly her muscles unclenched, the coherence spreading down her shoulders.

"Are you okay? I don't see anything... Are you sure it's here?"

Communicate, she must communicate, soon, because he wanted answers.

The One – is here, and she must make her light self visible.

"Who is the one?"

Did she say something? 

Focus, she must focus. She was perspiring now, the drug bleeding out through her skin, shifting the subduing fire from within to without.

"It's moved behind the generator, sir."

She found her way down to the water, a fine bubble trail leading from her feet, then she continued out across the floor, feeding the probe, making her self grow to human size. Finally she was coherent enough to be able to project her communication.

I am the one.

Now she could let her self draw from the generator to create visibility. Her body had excess energy, but she was utilizing some of it to sanitize her self. If she maintained her focus, then she would be able to keep her being together. 

Stay together...

"Sir, it has grown to six feet."

The chair moved as Apocalypse rose, and she smelled something burning again. The generator, Yes, use it all to create the light. She lifted her eyes to the cause of her pain, mentally weary, but her being abuzz with the power she had absorbed.

Apocalypse bent to turn off the generator, putting down the clamps, then straightened himself slowly to face the swirling column of light. 

"Where have you been? I was getting worried."

Coherence. She needed to maintain coherence as she communicated.

—I chose not to.

"You're the one making decisions... but please remember your decisions have consequences."

—I speak only when my companion is coherent.

"Huh? So you two are connected?"

"We are companions. We are always connected," Selina said rustily. Her throat was dry after all that she had gone through, but she was otherwise not thirsty.

Apocalypse looked at her thoughtfully as the man behind her moved and replaced the paddles on the defibrillator.

"I'm going to need you to remain visible at all times. Is that okay with you?" Apocalypse said in his conversational tone.

—I am visible.

"Will you position yourself in that corner?"

It was clear to Selina that he did not want her light self near anything electrical. She complied, moving it to the far corner, opposite the camera box.

"I'm going to need you to stay visible... at all times... so we can detain you."

—I remain here.

The man took the defibrillator with him out of the room. Another man came in and removed the generator and bucket.

"I'm reading high levels of energy in the asset and the ghost, sir."

Apocalypse tilted his head slightly at the voice in his ear, looking at Selina as if considering something, then turned back to the 'ghost'. 

"I'm glad you chose to stay. I have been truthful with you this entire time... Haven't I?"

—Yes.

He stood quiet for a moment studying the 'ghost', then nodded curtly. He went to the window and tapped on the one-way glass. 

"Clean her up... she stinks," he said. "Feed her... and you can remove the restraints." 

Then he turned back to the 'ghost'. "As long as you cooperate, I will cooperate. If you stop cooperating then I will be forced to escalate the use of force to extract what my employer needs."

Selina made her light self reduce in height and widen in response. Apocalypse seemed satisfied with that and started gathering his things from the table. That was when she suddenly became aware of Sterling's presence in the control room. He had been there the whole time; he had witnessed what Apocalypse put her through. But as she lifted her head to meet his gaze, she registered something else. She had to put extra effort into focusing on him through the fog in her mind, to isolate what it was. She was surprised to find that he was intentionally targeting his attention on her now—as if he wanted her to know something.

He wanted her to know that he had a knowing.

It took her only a moment to realize what it was, and the knowledge gave her a sinking feeling in her stomach.

He knew.

He knew that she and her light self were one and the same.

She exhaled silently as the door locked and she was left alone in the holding room, still tied to the chair. She calmed her troubled thoughts and lifted her gaze again. She sensed that Sterling had not decided what to do with that knowledge yet. And he wanted her to know because he did not approve of Apocalypse's tactics.

He knew that they were one and the same, but that was limited knowledge. Still, it was not knowledge she would want Apocalypse to find out. Not before she was ready.

She decided to communicate. 

—Please, she projected to Sterling's mind. Not yet.

Just then the door to the control room opened, and Sterling turned and left. He gave no indication of whether he decided what he was going to do.

— ∞ —

Thanks Echo4Echo for helping fine-tune the scene with Apocalypse!

©2017 by kemorgan65