In a safe place (Bob)

[Laurie Collins]

Laurie scuffs a toe against the linoleum floor of the medical lab’s hallway, back hunched, arms curled protectively around her stomach. They’d rushed Bob off as soon as John had gotten them all back, the blur of a gurney and running feet and high voices had been like gunshots after that long, tense ride during which she at least could think of no more than Bob’s eerie, shattered frame, and the prayer that they hurry that they get back to the Institute where it’s safe before he comes. Even in the truck she hadn’t felt safe, had thought of horror movies where the villain died and then suddenly appeared in the road and destroyed the triumphant peace with a smile and some shrilling string music. It had occurred to her then how much he was an unreal figure to her, the boogey-man, the devil, everything evil and all the more so because he was nameless and faceless and the scent of his brand of fear slid into every time she was afraid or felt small.

Now they had reached the safe place, the threshold on which all her thoughts had stopped with ’when we get to the Institute’ and ’when we are out of this truck’ and then when becomes now and it has not ended, none of it has ended, it is only beginning. Now she is thinking of what she will have to do now that certainty has been forced upon her, what Bob will do about his injuries, and her mother of course, always. Maybe there’s still a way to spare her, visions of persuading them to watch her without letting her know flicker briefly, ridiculously, through her mind. She can’t lie again, she’s a terrible liar anyway and if they need to know his human name? But her mother will panic as much as she is panicking, maybe even demand that they move again now that Laurie’s mutation is under control enough for her to integrate more easily into human society. Would I go again? She had wanted to but now leaving seems as unbearable as staying once had. So many variables to fall apart, possibilities… no way out but through.

She shakes her head and moves to the door of Bob’s room which lies partially open, rapping on it lightly and calling softly through the opening.

“Can I come in?”

[Bobby Drake]

(( OOC: In case this isn’t clear: this thread picks up once Brotherhood Beatdown ends; we’re assuming Laurie and Bobby get back to the Institute alive. That thread can keep going, though.))

Bobby has run out of words he can use to describe his feelings about being stuck back in the medbay again, and after careful deliberation he’s decided that “sucky” captures them perfectly. He’s spent altogether too much time in this room in the last year, and his personal, private, new-semester resolution is that he’s not going to do any more of it.

Once he fixes this particular mess he’s in, anyway. He’s had some success: he’s regrown his face, and fixed most of the holes and the missing bits. He’s managed to re-attach his fingers and his left arm. Superficially, he actually looks pretty normal – well, normal for him.

But the real problem, the one he can’t seem to fix, is the cracks and stress-planes running through his entire body. It seems like he ought to just be able to fill the space with fresh ice, like gluing two broken pieces of wood together, but he has failed every time he’s tried and he doesn’t know why. Dr. Storm did some crystallographic analysis thing and determined that his body literally is fractured into several distinct pieces – thirteen, to be exact – and is apparently being held together entirely by friction and Bobby’s willpower.

(Well, and an ice-brace, now. He still feels pretty stupid for having taken so long to think of it, but of course his old ice-armor trick still works… and, in this case, it serves to hold his broken parts together a little more securely.)

That’s probably why he can’t fix it, he figures… it’s not a matter of accreting an extra limb or two onto his body, it’s a matter of replacing over 90% of his body. (Which raises the question – which part is really him? Or are they all somehow approximately 8% him? Or is he actually a committee now, without realizing it? If he lets himself fall apart, can each part of him regrow the missing 90% and form thirteen Bobbies?)

Fortunately for Bobby’s sanity, Laurie’s knock distracts him before he’s tempted to experiment. "Yeah, of course… I’d appreciate the company." He stands up as she walks in, just to show off the fact that he can, now… and in the hopes of reassuring her. But one look at her face makes it clear that whatever’s on Laurie’s mind, it has very little to do with Bobby’s body.

"Geez… what’s wrong? I mean, I know, lots of things, but… what’s got you so bent out of shape?"

[Laurie Collins]

[[Yeah sorry Bobster your body isn’t on Laurie’s mind generally Plus poor Bob- crying girls are awkward.]]

"Yeah, of course… I’d appreciate the company."

Laurie edges through the door in that way she has of only opening a doorway wide enough to just barely slip herself through and then carefully shutting it as if the sound of a slamming door will shatter everyone to bits- which it might well have done to Bob a little while ago ironically enough. She opens her mouth and then stops when she sees Bob standing under his own power with his face back, though he still looks a little beat up. “You’re looking better.” she says trying to give him a small smile and failing quite spectacularly.

"Geez… what’s wrong? I mean, I know, lots of things, but… what’s got you so bent out of shape?"

“I-” she twists her hands together nervously and then thinks what a cliché that is, the guilt ridden girl confessing her sins of omission while wringing her hands, and drops them leadenly to her side. It was easier with Matthew, telling this, less of a conscious decision and more of a sort of frantic scramble to hurt him as little as possible. Now it’s still possible to deceive, even now, and it’s like a taking a step off a cliff… she looks down at her feet and then, briefly, up again her expression an echo, for all the world, of ‘tell me what to do’.

“I-I’m sorry.” she starts again after a moment, looking up again quickly, a little surprised at herself, she hadn’t known when she’d knocked that she intended to tell Bob instead of going to Miss. Munroe or Mr. Sheppard but now she doesn’t think she’d have the courage to tell anyone else, and at least in ice form Bob won’t be effected by her pheromones. “There’s something I should have mentioned a while ago and… I don’t know, I don’t know who to tell or what to do but it might have something to do with what happened tonight and it happened to you so I guess I’m, um, starting here. Bad system but that‘s me, I guess.“ she looks down at her shoes again because this isn’t something she can’t say looking someone in the eye. She doesn’t know how to separate it out to relevant components, this story of her, and so she plows into it from the beginning, getting a little calmer as she reverts to the familiar structure of the tale learned by heart though she’s only heard it once-

“This is kind of a long story but, um, when my mom was in college, nineteen I think, she met an older student, I don’t know his name, I really don’t, she never told me and I never asked but he… he was like me and he decided he wanted her. Her parents had been killed in a car crash and once he started influencing her, cutting her off from people, there wasn’t anyone else and so he talked her into dropping out and living with him. That went on for three years but he wasn’t… there was an accident… and she got pregnant and his pheromones stopped working on her so she ran away. She kept me, I don’t know why, I don’t think I could have, and we moved a lot because she was scared, but everything was okay until I started with my pheromones. When the cure didn’t work we came here.” That’s in some ways the hardest part of her story ended and she takes a moment to breathe deeply and try to rid herself of the nauseated feeling thinking of it evokes before she launches back into it. “When I first got here I didn’t understand why people weren’t scared of me so I didn’t want to make them scared by spelling out what I could do and, well, it isn’t something I like to think about, you felt it, I think, when we met down in the chapel and you asked me about him. Then at the riot I thought it might be him, I know some people even thought it was me but…” she casts about for a way to make Bob understand why she hadn’t told anyone, “I was happy here. I didn’t want to go back to being scared and I didn’t want my mom to be scared either. It was so much better just thinking I had no proof it was him, that there was no reason to stir up trouble. But now… when they were running away from me, tonight, I don’t know if you heard but a man in a mask stepped out and asked what they were doing and he made them stop like he’d negated my pheromones or something and so… I guess I can’t pretend any more.”

She stares down at her hands for a moment and then, to her own surprise, starts to cry quietly, biting frantically at her lower lip to contain it before giving up and muttering. “I didn’t want anyone to ask my mom about it, she’ll be scared, even of the asking, she’s scared of mutants other than me.”

[Bobby Drake]

(( Yeah... poor Bob. His body keeps getting abused, but not in a good way. ))

> " There’s something I should have mentioned a while ago…"

At first, Bobby isn’t too worried… Laurie has a way of twisting herself into knots about things that really turn out not to be as overwhelming as she thinks they are, once they’re dragged out into the light of day. And he is, admittedly, more than a little distracted by his own condition, even if it isn’t as urgent as it had been an hour ago. So he isn’t really paying as close attention as he could be.

So it’s not surprising that the key phrase: “he was like me” – goes past him unprocessed at first. It isn’t until she starts talking about the riot that he begins to realize he’s missed something actually important, and starts trying to remember exactly what she said… and then she’s talking about the guy in the mask, and Bobby’s still not quite sure what that has to do with anything, since there’s lots of ways he could have stopped the Madrii from running away, but there was something weird about the way he responded to Laurie, and she’s probably better at recognizing her own power than he is.

And then she’s stopped talking, and he’s still catching up. "Wait, wait, slow down. You’re saying that guy in the mask, the one who " knew all those things about me " the one running the show, is your Dad?" He waits for agreement or correction, but he gets neither: just tears. He wants to put a reassuring arm around her, but in his current condition he suspects that would be anything but reassuring, not to mention uncomfortable, so he settles for handing her a tissue and offering her a seat.

"So, OK. You don’t want your mom to know? I don’t get it, why – " but he doesn’t even finish asking the question before his own mind answers it. Moron… read between the lines, will you? Some asshole with emotion-control powers used her mom as a sex-toy for who knows how long before she managed to run away. Of course she doesn’t want to be reminded. "Oh. I get it. Right, I guess I can’t blame her, or you, but…" he stops again, just short of adding now that he knows you’re in the area, won’t he go looking for her, too? because if Laurie hasn’t already thought of it, Bobby would rather not be the one to mention the idea, and finishes with "…OK, so you don’t tell her, but… I mean, have you told Miss Monroe? She really ought to know, so we can prepare… I mean, your mom wouldn’t have to know, would she? Also, if he’s one of the Brotherhood, maybe Nikk or John knows something…" No, that probably wasn’t a particularly clever tack to be taking, given how skittish Laurie is around John.

He’s genuinely uncertain, trying to clarify a strong feeling that there’s still something important here he doesn’t yet understand. "I guess what I’m asking here is: why such a secret? I mean, a lot of folks have parents they aren’t exactly proud of… heck, Warren’s dad helped finance the Invasion!" Which wasn’t entirely fair, but wasn’t strictly a lie, either, and might help Laurie feel less alone.

[Laurie Collins]

"I guess what I’m asking here is: why such a secret? I mean, a lot of folks have parents they aren’t exactly proud of… heck, Warren’s dad helped finance the Invasion!"

Laurie takes the tissue but seems, a moment later, to forget its purpose, mashing it nervously with her fingers and wiping her eyes with the back of her other hand. Well at least he isn’t mad, she thinks as he scrambles about to catch up, evidently not having paid much attention. She’s not much discomfited by that in truth- she rather expects it from everyone except Matthew and it isn’t as if he hasn’t got better things to do than listen to her natter for the millionth time.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a secret really… and it wasn’t, entirely, I told Matthew back when he first asked me out to explain why I thought I couldn’t, but he promised he wouldn’t spread it around. When I first got here I didn’t want to talk about it and besides what could I have said? I don’t know his name. Then…” she frowns down at the crumpled tissue as she searches for words, remarkably calmly considering her breath is still coming in little hitches as she tries to regulate her crying. Guess I’m getting good at compartmentalizing. “The thing is my mom will have to know if I tell Miss. Munroe, because I doubt she’ll just let me get away with asking not to make me find out his name will she? Especially if he’s in the Brotherhood. Then my mom will get scared and we’ll move again. I just…” she shrugs and looks over at him, lost, because how do you explain that it isn’t about what’s going to happen it’s about incoherencies and the balancing of relationships, it’s about all the parts of you that you dread and fear suddenly walking up to you in human form. “And she really does have to know, in case he comes after her. I didn’t want it to be true, for it to all get dug up again, so I just convinced myself it wasn’t him, that it was a coincidence or telepathy or something and that was that.” she’s calmer now in the face of Bob’s kind enough but decidedly analytical approach that’s forced her a bit outside of the emotional fugue she gets snared in when this comes up, but she also feels small and a bit ridiculous and overwhelmingly like she can’t get her point across. Haven’t you ever been caught up enough in something that it isn’t about action and reaction anymore, it’s about…everything? she wants to ask but she just draws her feet up to rest on the chair so that she’s almost folded in half.

In a way, she supposes, that’s why she’d circled back to telling Bob first even when he has much more pressing things on his mind, like his own injuries. He can be nicely matter-of-fact and not inclined to angering quickly over something like this.

[Bobby Drake]

> "… I doubt she’ll just let me get away with asking not to make me find out his name will she?... "

This time he’s paying more attention, so he catches the key fact as it comes along, though not quite smoothly enough to appear casual. "Wait, wait, wait, back up: she knows this bastard’s name? I mean, he’s still using the same name as he used back then? Why hasn’t she brought charges for – oh. Right. Pheromones. She’s immune, but cops aren’t… ick. Yeah, I see the problem… he’s what you were afraid you’d – oh! So that’s why – right. OK, got it. She’s scared, you’re scared. Understandably. But… maybe we could check marriage license – except, of course, they never got married, right?"

He takes a deep breath, or rather goes through the habitual motions of it, and tries to seem a little less abrupt as Laurie seems to fold up into herself. "Um… sorry. I don’t mean to be, you know, all ‘just-the-facts-ma’am,’ here… it’s just, this is a lot all at once… I’m just trying to catch up. But, well… maybe we can start by checking your mom’s records? If she was living with this guy for years, back in the early 90s, he’s bound to have left some kind of trail. That way we can, you know, prepare, before springing everything on your mom?"

He thinks over what she said for another moment and adds "You're right, though... we need to give her some kind of protection right away... preferably the kind that isn't affected by pheromones. I'm guessing she wouldn't be too open to moving in here 'till we deal with this mess, huh? So, a bodyguard or something... maybe Storm can get that Fury character to assign one?"

He frowns imperceptibly, realizing he hasn't done a particularly good job of seeming understanding and reassuring. "Anyway, the important thing is you're safe here, and we can deal with this. But... I mean, I don't want to freak you ought or anything, but you really kinda do have to let Ororo know, don't you think? I mean, she's really the one who can get the ball rolling on this stuff."

[Laurie Collins]

"Um… sorry. I don’t mean to be, you know, all ‘just-the-facts-ma’am,’ here… it’s just, this is a lot all at once… I’m just trying to catch up.”

Laurie looks up and gives him a small smile. “Oh, no, you’re not…well, it’s good actually, the facts-thing, because I generally tend to handle irrationally emotional well enough for ten people, and I’m glad you’re listening at all. I mean, I thought you’d be mad especially if he used his pheromones on you before you did that ice-body thing.” she instantly wishes she could take back that last sentence, because if he hasn’t thought of that already she doesn’t want to be the one to plant the idea.

“But, well… maybe we can start by checking your mom’s records? If she was living with this guy for years, back in the early 90s, he’s bound to have left some kind of trail. That way we can, you know, prepare, before springing everything on your mom?"

“That… that would be good.” she says thoughtfully, “I don’t think my mom will want to talk to me a lot about it so if I could just tell her what I know instead maybe she’ll take it easier. Um, let me see, it would have been… well I was born in June of ‘91 so they would have been living together from 1987 or ‘88 till mid 1990, she said it was three years when she told me about it.” she frowns, looking intent and obviously trying to cover up her fear with something concrete to think about. She looks surprised when he mentions protection for her mother- even though the Institute works hard to promote unity between humans and mutants, especially Mr. Worthington with all his PR, it’s still easy to think of everything falling into an “us versus them” sort of thing- but nods quickly in agreement with the sentiment.

"…you really kinda do have to let Ororo know, don't you think? I mean, she's really the one who can get the ball rolling on this stuff."

Laurie rests her head briefly on her knees and nods against them, mussing her already disheveled hair into a little cloud of static. “I know.” she says softly, “Everyone’s going to know now… at least I won’t be asking Matthew to be all secretive anymore. He was so nice about it and he waited so long sometimes I still wonder…” she lifts her head and presses the heels of her hands against her eyes for a moment to dry them and cut off her nervous rambling. “But, yes, I suppose Miss. Munroe would be the one who could do those protection things so…” she looks over at him and shrugs slightly, suddenly a bit embarrassed of all things. Working myself into a silent little mass of knots before suddenly exploding all over someone is maybe not the best strategy for me or, well, the emotional-explosion-receiver. Poor Bob, getting attacked and then this all in one night. At least I can be sure I‘m not influencing him.

[Bobby Drake]

> " it’s good actually, the facts-thing, because I generally tend to handle irrationally emotional well enough for ten people, and I’m glad you’re listening at all. I mean, I thought you’d be mad especially if he used his pheromones on you before you did that ice-body thing. "

The first part of that actually gets a laugh out of Bobby… or, well, at least a chuckle. The second part gets a reaction one could call an anti-laugh – a reaction that, should it ever encounter a laugh, would likely result in mutual annihilation and an explosive discharge of energy.

"Yeah. Well, I guess that explains what that was. I figured it was some kind of telepathic attack, ‘xcept it didn’t really feel like one… but yeah, could’ve been pheromones." He looks Laurie over with newfound respect. "You know, I think I’ve been underestimating your power. That’s one heck of a whammy he’s got; if you’ve got the same kind of thing, I – " he doesn’t actually slap himself in the forehead, for fear his head might actually come off his shoulders if he does, but he really wants to.

Real smooth, Drake. ‘Wow, Laurie! Let’s talk about how cool your evil mutant dad’s power is and how much like him you are! Maybe later we can make you watch while we make sushi out of cute little dolphins!’ Not on the MGH anymore, haven’t got an excuse.

He hastily changes the subject to the first thing he can think of, to distract her attention. "Um… though, they’ve still got to have some kind of telepath working for them… he knew stuff I haven’t told anybody." Well, except for Sean, of course, but that hardly counted, and anyway he remembers there was something else he wanted to say. "And did you really expect me to get upset at you for something a guy you never even met did to me?"

> " they would have been living together from 1987 or ‘88 till mid 1990"

"OK, well, that’s a place to start. Your mom’s name is Gail, right? So, let’s see what we can –" he stops short as he gets to the computer console and looks at his hands. They’re intact again, which is great, but he’s not quite sure they’re working right, and the panic he’s been holding at bay threatens to overwhelm him again. It’s like one of those dreams where you keep losing your teeth, except he’s losing his entire body, and – he’s not going to think about it. So he gestures Laurie to the chair and continues "or, rather, what you can find out about Gail Collins’ living arrangements during those years?"

[Laurie Collins]

[[I'm assuming Laurie wouldn't know the name of Bob's psychologist, maybe just sort of having heard he was seeing one through the 'stute grapevine]]

"You know, I think I’ve been underestimating your power. That’s one heck of a whammy he’s got; if you’ve got the same kind of thing, I – "

Laurie looks predictably stricken as he cuts off and turns her face away quickly, staring fixedly at the opposite wall. He's changing the subject before she can so much as think about responding, going on about how the Brotherhood must have a psychic but she's distracted wondering how he would have finished that sentence.

"OK, well, that’s a place to start. Your mom’s name is Gail, right? So, let’s see what we can –or, rather, what you can find out about Gail Collins’ living arrangements during those years?"

She looks back at him sharply at the change in his voice and catches him staring down at his hands before he gestures her towards the computer. She opens her mouth to ask if he's alright but closes it again with an almost audible click, the answer is obviously no and there's nothing she can do to help anyway, so she just gives him a concerned look as she makes her way over to the terminal and settles herself slowly into the chair.

"Okay, so, census records from those years I suppose." she mutters to herself, pulling up the appropriate browser and entering the information with half her attention while the other half strains to control her pheromones which are responding to the crescendo of nervous apprehension and adrenaline with no physical outlet by seeming to double their efforts to escape her control. Well, it isn't as if they'll effect Bob anyway... she realizes and releases them which helps a little until she realizes she's just sitting there with her mouse hovering above the "next" button and that now she'll actually have to continue. "Okay." she whispers, biting her lip hard and for a moment considering just changing her mind and begging Bob to forget about it because she really, really doesn't want to know... but she also knows Bob would never agree to that, and more importantly that this is the only way to get the protection for her mom he'd mentioned. "Okay." she whispers again and presses down on the mouse.

There's a quick whirr and hum from the computer and within seconds text is appearing on the screen, the Institute's state-of-the-art technology and the essentially mundane nature of census data providing an almost comical anti-climax that helps Laurie scan the screen almost impartially until she comes across what she's looking for. "Here it is, 1988 records, Los Angeles, California that's what she said and...oh... I've heard of him he's been on television, I saw him on some daytime talk show once when I was younger...he's..." she shakes her head, obviously overwhelmed, and scoots her chair to the side to make room for Bob, pointing at the line on the screen and whispering his name for the first time, "Sean Garrison..."

[Bobby Drake]

> " Here it is, 1988 records, Los Angeles, California that's what she said and...oh... I've heard of him he's been on television, I saw him on some daytime talk show once when I was younger...he's... Sean Garrison..."

"Heh, now there’s a coincidence. He’s my therapist. So, who else?" It takes a few minutes for it to filter into Bobby’s head that there are no other names… not that it’s difficult to figure that out from Laurie’s query, but his mind keeps shying away from the obvious conclusions. "That’s it? Damn… guess your dad’s pretty good at covering his tracks, after all. OK, so next step… hm…"

He shakes his head as if to clear it, then winces at the rattling in his neck and stops. He’s still having trouble thinking clearly, though, and suddenly very tired. Which is weird, since he doesn’t ordinarily experience fatigue in ice-form, but he attributes it to the unusual physical stresses he’s under after the Brotherhood attack.

"I’m (yawn) sorry, Laurie… I’m just not thinking straight, all of a sudden. I guess I could ask Sean about it, my next session, but that doesn’t seem quite right… I mean, not without your mom’s permission, right? Besides, I… um…" he trails off, yawning again. "Sorry, I forgot what I was going to say. Anyway… any ideas?"

(( OOC: If this isn’t obvious, the fatigue/sudden stupidity is all avoidance behavior; Bobby’s subconscious’ way of keeping him from making the unpleasant realization. Feel free to have Laurie figure this out, or suspect this, or just think Bobby’s acting weird, or whatever floats your boat. He’ll get over it soon, but his head has been being messed with pretty heavily after all… ))

[Laurie Collins]

"Heh, now there’s a coincidence. He’s my therapist. So, who else? That’s it? Damn… guess your dad’s pretty good at covering his tracks, after all. OK, so next step… hm…"

Laurie stares at him silently for a moment, shocked out of the overwhelming sensation of knowing for the first time who her father, this practically epic force throughout her life, is. "He's your..." she trails off as Bob goes on, blithely dismissing any connection and distractedly and distantly asking for the next step. And maybe he's right... I mean, Sean Garrison is a celebrity, he's had a million clients, really high profile people, wouldn't someone know if he was manipulating people? "Well I-I, um, maybe we don't have to keep going, maybe it's him." she manages hesitantly before rushing into the quickest litany of reasons she can to avoid being cut off and placated, "A therapist would be a great way to manipulate people without them suspecting you were a mutant and he's the only name on the census records, he's the one my mom was living with during the years it happened..."

[Bobby Drake]

> " Well I-I, um, maybe we don't have to keep going, maybe it's him. A therapist would be a great way to manipulate people without them suspecting you were a mutant and he's the only name on the census records, he's the one my mom was living with during the years it happened... "

Bobby stares blankly at her for several moments, annoyed by the plodding pace of his own thoughts as his mind, trapped between the obvious conclusion and his pheromone-augmented trust for Garrison, attempts to avoid the conflict by shutting down altogether. He literally can’t make sense of what she’s saying, at first.

"Wait, wait… slow down. ‘Maybe it’s him’ – maybe who is him? Um, I mean, who is who?" He infers from the look Laurie gives him in response that he’s being stupid, and forces himself to pay more attention. "’Maybe it’s –‘ Oh! You mean, maybe Sean is… your dad? But wait… no, that would mean… I mean, he’s my therapist! If he’s your dad, and your dad is… you know, the Brotherhood guy, and… "

If the logic of it had been less obvious, or if Laurie hadn’t been there to force him to keep paying attention, Bobby might well have successfully avoided seeing it. As it stands, though, the incredibly obvious slowly percolates into his consciousness, and after a long moment of staring off into the middle distance he finally looks back at her.

"You’re saying my therapist is actually the guy running the Brotherhood?"

[Laurie Collins]

"Wait, wait… slow down. ‘Maybe it’s him’ – maybe who is him? Um, I mean, who is who? ’Maybe it’s –‘ Oh! You mean, maybe Sean is… your dad? But wait… no, that would mean… I mean, he’s my therapist! If he’s your dad, and your dad is… you know, the Brotherhood guy, and… "

Laurie shifts her weight uncomfortably, avoiding looking too much at Bob's face as he slowly works it all out, and really it's just starting to dawn on her. His therapist... she feels slightly sick thinking about Bob who has always been nice to her, understanding in the face of her mental and emotional convolutions even when he has so many bigger problems in his own life, going in to therapy for who knows how long and divulging all his secrets and vulnerabilities to... Sean Garrison, her father. If I'd been up front about having a mutant father from the start, if I'd been able to ask mom for his name, none of this would be happening, she realizes with a lurch of guilt.

"You’re saying my therapist is actually the guy running the Brotherhood?"

And that brings it to another level that she in her selfishness (because even her genuine concern for Bob had been selfish in that she'd thought of this Sean Garrison only as her father and Bob only as a friend who was being hurt)has forgotten- the masked man in the alley was giving orders, he's the leader. Bob isn't just her friend, or a nice guy, or even just a teenager, he's an X-man, and Sean Garrison is much more than her father and her family's personal demon- with what Bob must have told Sean in therapy he's revealed every facet of himself to the enemy and probably exposed dozens of Institute secrets, something that could actually get people killed. All of this flashes through her mind in a moment, riding another, larger wave of guilt, because she's had a part in this whether or not she'd meant to and whether or not anyone decides to be angry with her, and she raises her hands to cover her mouth in a reflexive nervous gesture before nodding slowly in response to Bob's question.

"I'll have to ask my mom now, for sure, but... that's what it looks like." she says softly through the gaps in her spread fingers.

[Bobby Drake]

> "You’re saying my therapist is actually the guy running the Brotherhood?"
> " I'll have to ask my mom now, for sure, but... that's what it looks like."

"OK." Bobby’s surprised by the tone of his own voice; he sounds like he’s on top of the situation even though he knows perfectly well he’s barely even acknowledged it. Hell, he’s still having trouble wrapping his brain around the demolished condition of his body, let alone the rest of this stuff.

But the awful thing is that it makes sense. The stuff the masked guy was saying … Bobby’d talked about all of it during therapy sessions, stuff he’d never told anybody else about, and he gets nauseous just thinking about the fact that the Brotherhood knows it all. Worse yet, Bobby’s pretty sure Storm has sent other students to Sean on his recommendation, and… no, he doesn’t want to think about the implications of that.

"OK. That’s… bad. We… um… I guess we need to tell Storm. If he’s… I mean, if this is the set-up for some kind of invasion or something… or messed with my head somehow, programmed me or something…" Bobby doesn’t want to think about it, but he can’t seem to stop. It hasn’t been that long since he recovered from the MGH’s effects on his mind, and that at least was purely accidental; the thought that he’s being deliberately manipulated by the enemy is overwhelming.

"I guess maybe Josh or Sheppard can, I don’t know, scan me or something… make sure I’m not some kind of Manchurian Candidate or something like that. I mean, I don’t know if you can even do that, but better not to take chances, right?" It takes him a moment to realize what he just said, and he winces reflexively before adding "Oh, hell… I’m sorry Laurie, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just…" figure you can do anything your dad can do, he doesn’t say, knowing it’s both vastly unhelpful and not necessarily true, "…I’m just a little freaked out right now, you know?"

He sits down on a nearby seat and is about to shift back to his human form when he remembers the fractured condition of his body, and the sudden realization of how close he just came to possibly killing himself turns anxiety into a spike of panic that bleeds into his voice. "Oh, hell… I can’t deal with this right now, I’m sorry… can you, I don’t know, call Storm or somebody who can deal?" He waves vaguely towards the computer console and tries to get control over the rhythm of his non-existent breathing.

[Laurie Collins]

"OK. That’s… bad. We… um… I guess we need to tell Storm. If he’s… I mean, if this is the set-up for some kind of invasion or something… or messed with my head somehow, programmed me or something…"

There's a moment when Laurie is sort of perversely impressed by how fast Bob's mind can spin out the worst case scenarios from an already frightening set of facts and speculation. The invasion is easily the most traumatizing event of her life, with the manipulation of people she cares about being a close second on the terror-scale, and the rapid fire mention of both as immediate threats drains the blood from her face in record time.

"I guess maybe Josh or Sheppard can, I don’t know, scan me or something… make sure I’m not some kind of Manchurian Candidate or something like that. I mean, I don’t know if you can even do that, but better not to take chances, right?"

She's flinched backward as if he's struck her physically before she can get control of herself, shaking her head in a quick denial when she does. "I can't-" she pauses and shakes her head again, "I mean, I don't know. I don't really want to know if I can do that..." she takes a breath and blinks hard a couple of times, determined not to start crying again. "I'm sorry." she whispers, the words carrying apology for a thousand trespasses both real and imagined. Then he's apologizing and staggering unsteadily to a seated position and, though she can't know what he almost does, something in his aspect even in ice form speaks to his increasing panic.

"Oh, hell… I can’t deal with this right now, I’m sorry… can you, I don’t know, call Storm or somebody who can deal?"

Later, looking back, she will fasten hopefully onto this moment as a sign of something that might be a seed of maturity, because although she wants more than anything to start crying again, to apologize until he's forced to answer her one way or another, she merely nods and darts over to the phone on the far wall. She punches in the extension for Miss. Munroe's office and, the moment she hears the connection being made, blurts out her request- "Um, Miss. Munroe? Bob and I need you in the med lab please." the tone of her voice implying urgency enough without words needed for clarification.