Welcome Home

[Stern]

Stern materialized a few feet above ground. Before he knew what happened, he was on the ground. But not entirely. His arm was killing him. There was a sound of things falling and hitting the ground. A slight muffled sound reached his ears and he realized he was laying on top of someone with soft skin, sweet lips, and a faint lilac fragrance.

Stern's eyes widened when he realized what happened.

"Anita! Oh goodness! Are you ok?"

Stern yanked her to her feet and started gathering up her upset books with his good arm.

"I'm so sorry. I seem to have knocked over your books again."

[Anita Stern]

"Michael..."

She was dazed. Completely dazed. On top of that, the surprise of the unexpected (he had appeared out of nowhere), the fact that he had, for the second time since they met, knocked her books all over the place. And what was that smell? Her nose wrinkled at the solid wall of stench, and purely as reaction, plugged her nose and waved her hand this way and that. Still, she was very...well, she was having trouble grasping the word. And watching Stern apologize, and pick up her books and -

-wasn't he having difficulty with that just now? Favouring one shoulder...-

- sliding her fingertips over, down to her lips. And focusing on him again. And turning 'fifty shades of red'...as it is said, before concern creased her brow and she closed the gap between them, gently reaching one hand out to touch him, the other steadying the stack of books.

"...are you alright?" She queried, suddenly and urgently. It was so good to see him again, but she forgot what the moment had made her feel - and smell - and focused on what he needed most right now: Help. Anita began to collect the books from him, looking back and forth from each book to him. He looked as if he were about to answer, when she cut him off.

"Forget that. You're hurt." She frowned, and wanted to touch him again, if only to make sure he were actually there, but her arms were now piled with books.

"Fetch my keys off the ground, please?" She hated to ask him to do anything at all, considering, but... "Follow me. We're going to do something about that broken piece of you."

[Stern]

Stern nearly protested when she took the books out of his good arm, but she was right. He smiled a bit and crouched down to grab her keys.

"Ok, let's go."

He held out her keys on one finger. "I probably smell. I just got finished running around in a sewer. If we take your car, I'll see what I can't do to de-stink it."

She was gorgeous. She was also focused. Stern's face nearly flushed as he followed behind her. He felt so weak and mild. For so long he was strong and cunning. Now he was weak. Broken.

It was a comfort to see that she spent no hard words on him about his absence or knocking her over. He took it as a kindness that she mentioned nothing about his stunning new odor he discovered in London.

She just wanted to help him.

"Thanks, Anita."

[Anita Stern]

"You're welcome, Michael Stern."

Anita was balancing the stack of books with one hand and arm, and unlocking the trunk of her little red Mini with the other. Then in making an honest attempt at placing the books neatly there, they all just tumbled in freely themselves. She huffed a sigh, rubbed her eyes of the dust of sleep that had remained from a mid-afternoon nap, and then set about organizing the books neatly into place. She pulled the rear hatch door shut, where it clicked, and then walked around to the driver's side door and unlocked it, reaching for the switch that released all the doors from locking to let Stern into the passenger side - after which she slid into the car herself and settled into her seat (shutting the door immediately after), and breathed deeply in and out before her mind started to swirl with many a thought. Not the least of these being over the man seated next to her. The man and his vanishing and reappearance. The man and his busted shoulder. The man and his...stink. For the second - and not the last - time, Anita wrinkled her small nose.

"We're going to have to do something about your other..." she paused, briefly "...apparent issues."

And she looked at him, managing a sweet smile as the hand nearest to her door slid over a button and the window started powering downward.

"Well then!" Anita turned her eyes to the wheel in front of her, and set the key in place, and the machine came to life, an oddly calming hum to it all. Next thing, they were off to the destination of the moment: The local hospital emergency room.

[Stern]

Stern chuckled as he gingerly seated himself in the car. He pulled the door shut gently so it wouldn't jar his arm. Then he reached across himself and put on his seat belt.

He laughed a little when she lowered her window. He winced for a second, but decided to lower his window too.

"Yeah. The London sewers smell awful."

Stern tried his best to relax, but any small movement was causing him pain.

"Anita, how have you been since I last heard from you? I've been terribly worried about you and I've missed you quite a bit."

Without thinking he reached over and squeezed her hand. She probably didn't want sewer hands touching her. He pulled his hand back soon after.

"I hope I haven't caused you much trouble."

[Anita Stern]

"I'm just happy you're..." She paused, watching the stoplight. How did she end up worrying so much about someone she barely knew at all? She shrugged, and turned her face to look at him, smiling.

"...I'm just happy you're home."

Then the light changed. Anita's eyes returned to the road ahead. The traffic was moderate, and they were making their way to the hospital - not rushing, the injury wasn't killing him - with intent.

"I've been alright. i've been worried about my mother. She usually emails me once a week, but I haven't heard from her in a month." She frowned. Her brow furrowed. It was very concerning to her. It was early evening, the sun would be far from setting, as is the way of the summer sky. It was warm, a cooling breeze coming through the open window as the Mini rode on.

"I hope she's alright. It's just one thing after another, but at least I can be happy that you're safe now."

[Stern]

Stern nodded. "Yeah, parents are important. I'm sure she's fine. Maybe since you have some free time soon, you could visit her."

He stared out the window at the sky. "I got to admit, I kind of been wondering myself why you come to the front of my mind so much when we only spent an hour or two together."

He smiled and shrugged. "Maybe it's just my conscience keeping me honest and set on that promise I made you. If you need someone to go with you to visit your mom, you can always let me know."

[Anita Stern]

"I'm sure she has a reason. I'm sure I'll hear something soon."

Hands on the wheel, the sight of the hospital steadily approaching, Anita sighed. The beat of the drive, the flow of traffic contended with her thoughts - scattered thoughts, as they were (the events at this end of her day were quite unexpected) - and she was only just focused enough on the road ahead to prevent anything else unexpected from happening. The conversation seemed to command more of her attention than it should in this time and space.

"Sometimes something makes such an impression that it's hard to forget."

She didn't look away from the road. The turnoff to the hospital was coming up shortly.

"Sometimes it's just the strange feeling with no discernable source that urges on. That something that seems to make sense to hold on to, despite logic and reason. "

[Stern]

"Hmm."

Stern sighed as they arrived at the hospital. Without any identification, it would be difficult for him to be billed for treatment. If they gave him any at all. He wouldn't want Anita to be saddled with whatever they were going to charge for his X-rays and treatments.

The car parked and Stern got out quickly. "Let's get this done. I'm not looking forward to this."

Stern headed straight for the emergency room without a word. He was focused and determined to get the whole unpleasant business over with.

The receptionist asked after the severity of Stern's injuries.

"My shoulder is broken. To what extent, I don't know." He paused a moment and said, "I feel into a sewer and landed on it. It's really hurting me."

That would explain the smell and offered him a while to gather himself up. Anita would hear the truth from him, but he didn't want to cause a scene.

The receptionist handed over a clipboard and a pen for Stern to write down his information. He reluctantly took it and handed it to Anita. "I need you to play secretary."

Stern gave her all the information to write down. Once it was finished, it was a very long wait.

[Anita Stern]

Sage had played scribe for Stern, and without really being able to help it, committed all of the given information to memory. Truly, if anyone ever wanted any privacy from her, they'd have to lock themselves in a soundproofed room with no openings, potential or otherwise. Or be very far away. Not only was her power in effect through touch, but she was incredibly intelligent and extremely observant. The fact that Stern was legally dead would certainly cause issues to crop up, but those couldn't be dealt with until such a point that they were to occur. When the gathering of information to paper was done, Anita stood from her seat beside Michael and went to return the clipboard and such, with a courteous smile, as always, before returning to her seat for the long (as per the norm) wait.

"I somehow doubt that you simply 'oops' fell into a sewer, Michael Stern." She whispered this low enough, for his ears only, leaning in close to him to do so, giving him the sometimes eerie all-knowing, you-can't-hide-ANYTHING-from-me look. And rightly so. This was more out of worry than anything.

[Stern]

Stern looked at his knees. The area around him brightened by a watt or two--his mutations replacement for an embarrassed blush.

"Well, Anita," he said. "I tried to use the sewer to escape a sociopath. He was trying to suck the life out of me, so I needed to get away."

He took her hand again. For a moment there was the darkness of the London sewer, then Dallas' face emerging into a trickle of moonlight. Then the image faded.

"He knocked me down and broke my shoulder with a pipe. I managed to escape, but just barely."

[Anita Stern]

The image made her feel cold a moment, and she closed her eyes through it. The face of Dallas Walker was not a familiar one but certainly unpleasant, like its owner could suck up every drop of happiness like a sponge. She would have shuddered involuntarily at the thought, but Stern's hand felt oddly warm, warding off the reaction. The look on Walker's face disturbed her further, though and she jerked her hand back, almost glaring at her companion. A shot of anger and fear burned up through her as she clutched her withdrawn hand with the other, keeping her eyes locked on Stern before suddenly slamming her eyes shut again, tightly. Tears threatened to form and she clenched her teeth, wishing she could rub the man's face from her mind.

"Monster. His face alone could cause pain." She bit out, silently. Again, Sage opened her eyes, and looked on Stern again, the mix of anger and fear still present there. She didn't know why it made her angry, but the fear it instilled - the reason would be obvious.

"What did he want with you?" Her voice rolled out of her mouth, wavering slightly. The question was only half-wandering rhetoric.

[Stern]

Stern realized he had frightened her. His passing thought reached her and frightened her.

"He just wanted to kill me. To suck the life out of me. I never met him. I never knew him before. He didn't know me. He didn't have a reason for coming after me. He just did."

Stern put his good arm around Anita's shoulders and pulled him close to her. "I'm sorry if it frightened you. I happened to me only recently, and it scares me a little too."

His ran his fingers through some of her soft brown curls. "He's miles away and I don't expect him to find me at all."

He placed a small kiss on her forehead and let his relief and happiness to see her seep up to the forefront of his mind. "All that matters now is that I'm back and I can keep my promise to be here for you if you need me."

He squeezed her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

[Anita Stern]

His apology and touch seemed to start melting the unbecoming emotions out of her and she sighed, holding one hand up to her forehead, looking down at her feet before just giving in and tipping her head to rest on his shoulder, as if it were heavy from all the thought and shock of emotional onslaught. A tear or two rolled out, and she wiped them with the back of her hand before dropping that hand into her lap with the other one.

"It hurts to think that people are like that. For no reason, even."

Anita frowned.

"Being what we are...makes being a normal teenager seem like child's play in comparison. So much prejudice, so many people calling out 'I'm right. Follow me!'... the situation has cropped up countless times in history, with only subtle differences."

She sniffed. It made her wonder just why her father died, for what reason, if any at all. It made her worry about her mother even more. Anita shivered, lightly.

[Stern]

"Yeah."

At a total loss for words, Stern decided the best thing to do would be to just sit there with the petite woman. And so they did sit together in silence for a time, watching people come and go and taking a modicum of strength from one another as they each dealt with whatever small internal strife there was to deal with.

Stern was tired. He didn't realize just how much he had been pushing himself over the past day or two. Without any real way to tell time or keep things straight, he had no idea how long he had been gone. He was certain though that he hadn't slept since his escape from Jericho in Warsaw.

He was beat.

Stern drifted to sleep with his head resting on top of Anita's there was a small scent of the sewer mingled with the lilac shampoo she used. Stern's final thought was of showers and soap. Then he slept.

A time later Stern was awoken by medical staff.

"We're ready to treat your injury, sir."

Stern nodded and stood up.

The staff explained that for the sake of his arm they would have to cut the shirt off of him so it didn't get worse. Inside he felt pained at losing some of the clothes Qadir gave him, but it had to be done.

They would X-ray him and then treatment options would be discussed.

"Mostly it depends on where the fracture occurs along the collarbone. It's not likely the socket is damaged, but we may have to perform surgery if the break is very bad."

Stern nodded.

The man's face wrinkled. "And you still smell like the sewer. Whew. If we need to perform surgery, we'll have to clean you up."

They chuckled together for a moment and two more ER people showed up to take Stern away.

"They will get you set up for the X-ray," the man said. Then he turned to Anita. "If you don't mind, ma'am, I'd like to ask a few questions about what happened and about insurance."

[Anita Stern]

Anita had watched Stern go with the two staff persons that had come to get him. When he was out of sight, she tipped her head back and rubbed her face with both hands before leaning forward and propping her elbows up on her thighs, her face in her hands. Just then, the voice that'd been addressing Stern turned to her.

"If you don't mind, ma'am, I'd like to ask a few questions about what happened and about insurance."

Pulling her face from her hands, Anita looked up and blinked once... twice... three times, before sitting upright once again, staring at the man vacantly, quizzically.

"I'm sorry....?" She smiled a tired smile, and canted her head to the side, looking at him, waiting for an answer.

[Stern]

Stern waved over his shoulder at Anita. He shut his light off for the X-Ray.

Meanwhile, the man outside was still chatting with Anita.

"We have no record of your husband's insurance. In fact, we find no record of him at all. Is there something we ought to know about?"

In the meantime, Stern waited patiently for the technicians to run the machine. They had not asked him to remove his goggles, which was nice. They were doctors, but he was still wary from his travels to not trust them to treat him well if they found out he was a mutant.

"How long for the X-Rays?" Stern asked.

"Not long," one of them assured him. "Maybe an hour. Once it gets finished, we'll get your shoulder fixed."

Stern nodded. That was good. "This is not how I wanted to spend my first day at home."

[Anita Stern]

A few shades of red crept up Sage's cheeks when the man made his little assumption about her relationship with Stern. She smiled, and looked away in Michael's direction, before turning back to the inquirer to correct him.

"He's... ah... not my husband." She held up her left hand as a sort of proof - bare fingers; Anita was never one to wear much jewelry, anyway - and smiled again. "Never married. Not even close."

The man stumbled for an apology immediately, but she waved it off just as quickly, assuring him the mistake was quite alright. The way she and her companion had been with each other for everyone else's observations would speak to the contrary in at least some form.

"Something you should know about?" She breathed out, her mind semi-present. Well, that was a broad question. A deep question, even. Cavernous. There was a lot this man didn't know. But... what to say without saying too much? That was hard. She thought about it a few long moments, a fingertip just barely between her lips. Miss Florence looked rather pensive.

"How do I put this, exactly...?" The words sounded obstructed, as they should with a finger in the way. Her eyes then slid up and pinned on the man again.

"To put it simply, there was an accident, and his body was never found, so he was presumed dead." She pulled the finger from her mouth, that arm's elbow cupped by the other arm's hand.

[Stern]

Stern emerged from where he came.

"Yeah. Did you hear about the bombing at ESU? I was there for that. Thanks to that event I was missing for I don't know how long. I still don't know what day it is or what time."

Anita and the medic turned around, and there was Stern with an edge to his voice and glower on his face. The technicians had cut him out of his shirt and the pullover he had been wearing when he arrived.

In a word, he was lean. Food didn't happen often for Stern, except for when charity or theft managed to grab him a bite. His chest, back, and arms bore several scars.

His wrist still showed signs of his initial fight with Neutron. Nearly to his elbow the scars of his fight with the terrorist crawled up his arm.

His upper arms each had signs of bullet wounds. His leg would have one too. His chest and back showed scars going from one side to the next: the lingering marks of Ricky Rider emblazoned on his torso.

Last of all, his right shoulder looked deformed and distinctly lower than the other.

The medic whistled. "Those are some wicked marks."

Stern nodded. Behind his goggles his eyes were locked on Anita.

"How did you manage for so long before you managed to get help?"

Stern's gaze stayed where it was. "I had a promise to keep."

A few promises. The one he made to Anita, and the one he made to himself. Neutron would suffer. He bit back a snarl and focused on the present. Anita was there. He would spend time with her and let his family know he was safe once the ER was finished with him.

Then he had to find a way to get legally resuscitated. He needed to be alive again.

Then he'd find Neutron.

[Anita Stern]

When Stern came out, she had seen him and in addition seen the map of his scars, felt his eyes upon her, and found incredible difficulty in any attempt to look away from it all. His physical self seemed to have a character all its own that was oddly intriguing - she'd never seen a man quite so marked as this before, at least not in a physical manner. The fingers of her right hand uncurled like they wanted to move forward and explore the unique and jagged pathways recent life had left behind... but his pinned stare held her in place. All she could do was look right back at him, behind those goggles, eyes she knew she might never actually see. Anita began nibbling at the end of her finger again. She would have to ask him about everything - absolutely everything - later. Unless he told her first. Michael Stern seemed to have a good bit of honesty about him, that much was certain.

"That promise means so much to me now than it did before."

Then she managed to tear her eyes away for a second, to look at the other man.

"I'll do what I must. He leaves with me. Tonight."

Then her soft eyes went back to his.

[Stern]

There was a pause. The two didn't look away from each other for some time and it was starting to cause the technician some nervousness.

"Well, we will work on finding you something to wear for the surgery. Once we can manage, we'll get you cleaned up."

Finding his professional demeanor again, the man turned to Anita. "Regardless of what happens, while his arm heals he may need extra assistance with things like getting dressed. We'll show you a method of dressing him after he has been treated."

Stern sat down next to Anita. The chair felt cold on his back. "Sounds good. I'll just wait here."

[Anita Stern]

It was quiet for several long moments. They just sat there, the two of them - her hands folded in her lap - still, so still. Anita kept looking at Stern out of the corner of her eye, then back down at her hands; trying to read his expression, but... well, distracted by the unexpectedness of the evening. And something making her just a little uncomfortable. She went to speak -

"I..."

"I..." He'd said at the same time.

They laughed. Why am I nervous?

"He thought I was your..." She trailed off for a second, then suddenly looked to him and smiled, a little sheepishly, but mostly honestly. "...Sorry if I'd said anything I shouldn't have."

[Stern]

Stern smiled and squeezed her hand. "No. You were fine."

"I got to admit though," he said, "that I wasn't sure how you'd handle seeing me like this. It's not really pretty, is it?"

He brushed his thumb against hers.

"All these scars happened because of other people. The time I had getting home--it was hell."

He still wasn't sure what she thought of it all. If she was repulsed by what she saw.

"Most of the stories behind these scars are like the scars themselves. They're not pretty. I don't want to scare you again like I did before, but if you want to know, I won't hold it back from you."

He picked up her hand by the wrist and let it slide down his arm so she could feel the scar tissue that crept towards his elbow.

"If you ever decide you want to know, then tell me. Touch whichever scars you want to hear about and I'll let you know."

[Anita Stern]

She looked over the scars again, keeping her hand where it had stopped. The image of that monster still floating about in her mind was very unsettling, but she was managing, moment by moment. If she could manage that, she figured she could manage anything he had to tell or show her. As it was, she was picking up on his surface thoughts, but her own thoughts overlapped them and she didn't seem to pay them much heed. Anita counted very much on the fact that he would be honest with her. That fact, when it came down to it, mattered very much to her.

"When I ask...you won't hold back...?" She thought about it again for a second, then nodded, mostly to herself. "Okay."

Stern was rough around the edges like he hadn't been a few months previous, when she had first encountered him by accident. Before, he had been softer, very open, very genuine. Those things were still the same, at the core, but there was a determination and experience that wasn't there last time. The time away had changed him, and it made him much more intriguing.

"I'll ask sometime... sometime when there's less chance of being interrupted. I want to know as much about you as I can."

[Stern]

"That's fine."

The technician from before entered the lobby. "Mister Stern, we're ready to get you cleaned up now. Please come with me."

Stern stood up, hooking Anita's pinky so her arm followed him as he stood up. He gave her pinky a tug and released it so her hand dropped back into her lap.

"Be back soon. Won't it be exciting not to have to sit next to a guy who smells like the sewer?"

He followed the man out of the ER and down the hall.

"Here, you can use this shower," the tech said. "Here's a hospital gown for you as well. There is some soap and some shampoo in there. When you're finished, go back out into the ER and let the receptionist know you're finished."

Stern nodded and entered the shower. He took off the pants, socks, and shoes he had stolen in Europe. He would need new clothes soon. He should probably call his parents.

Half an hour later he emerged from the shower barefoot and in his hospital gown. He never could quite get over the idea that the garment was the only thing between him and the rest of the world, so to speak. And it was drafty.

He returned to the ER waiting room and let the receptionist know he was finished in the shower and returned to Anita. He knelt in front of her and offered his hair.

"Tell me true. Do I still stink?"

[Anita Stern]

Anita laughed and ran a hand through his hair to the back of his head, pressed her nose to his scalp and breathed in. She caught his surface thoughts - the hope and honesty of them made her blush a little. The way he wanted her approval of something so simple as his scent. Then she pulled back, pulling her hand from the back of his head, along the side, and to his cheek, pausing there, then bringing her hand back to her lap.

"It's bearable, still faintly there, but you won't call the attention of every nose in the vicinity." She stated, in all honesty. "You can only do so much about it in this place."

Then she settled against the back of the chair and crossed her legs, her arms, and looked at Stern, resisting the urge to smile more than she already was. Nobody looked anything other than hilarious or hideous in a hospital gown.

[Stern]

The wounded mutant's eyes closed in a dreamy haze as Anita ran her fingers through his hair. For once it was a touch not laced with intent to kill him. She gave him her answer and he smiled. "Well, then. I guess that's all there is to it."

He put his left arm in her lap and rested with his chin in the crook of his elbow. Out of his periphery he noticed her outfit. He had some time at last, so he leaned back again and took a good look at her.

A pair of simple sandals adorned her feet. Following his gaze up she wore a soft white cotton skirt that reached nearly to her ankles. Then a tank top and a cardigan over that.

"Sorry again for falling on you."

[Anita Stern]

She blinked, stared at him a moment, then smiled softly and shook her head.

"It's alright. I think I'll live." She said, the slightest twinge of a tease to her voice.

The memory of the incident was still very fresh. The day was not yet ended, she was far from the sleeping hours, and now after all the prioritizing was out of the way, she had time to look back on it. Certain parts were familiar - it was the second time Michael Stern had caused her books to be scattered about the ground. Her analytical part had overtaken anything else she might have expressed at the time - it buried it. Now in this calm she had time to sort through the scene. He'd been hurt... not by the fall, but before that. There was a physical memory attached to the scene, and although accidental, it made her blush whereas before it has shocked her somewhat speechless. Then it came, the realization that what - no, who - she had worried about over and over was right there in front of her. Tears threatened to form, it was all still so fresh, and she bent forward in her seat, slipped off it and knelt, looped her arms gently around his neck to hold him close.

"Thank goodness you're safe, you're home..." Her voice wavered when she'd said it. "I don't think I've worried so much...so much in my life."

[Stern]

Stern was taken a bit by surprise when Anita slid out of her seat and took him around the neck.

Before he knew what he was doing he put his good arm around her and squeezed tightly, keeping her pressed close to him.

"Yeah, I made it. Just like I said I would. Even came falling out of the sky. I'll do my best to make up for all that worry I caused."

He paused a moment and pulled his head back so he could look into her face. "At least there's no wrinkles. So that's good."

[Anita Stern]

Anita looked down a moment, then looked back up at Stern, looked him in the eyes.

"Yes, at least that." She replied.

Then she pulled herself back up into her chair, and reached into her bag to look for a tissue to dry her eyes. Anita still didn't quite understand how someone she'd known for such a small amount of time could impact her so much, but she tried not to question it. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it, so she let it be. All she knew is that she didn't want him to vanish again, because in all honesty, she was afraid he wouldn't come back if it happened again.

"What do you want to do after we're done here?"

[Stern]

Stern shut his eyes, lifted his goggles, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Ug, what time is it?"

He never really had any clear sense of time for the past several months apart from the position of the sun in the sky. Once he put his goggles back on he looked around for any clear sign of what it looked like outside.

"I need to let my parents know I'm not dead. But if It's really late, I'll let them know I'm alive in the morning. I need to get myself used to a regular time schedule. My biological clock is probably freaking out."

The technician returned again with the X-rays. "We're going to have to reconstruct your shoulder," he said without preamble. "We've got to get you prepped." The man then looked at Anita. "This might take a couple of hours."

Stern looked at her. Think of a place where I can stay a night. Also, if you're hungry later we can figure out something to do with that as well."

[Anita Stern]

Anita smiled small, and watched Stern go. It was already sometime after nine p.m., and if the procedure was going to take a couple hours at least, it wasn't likely he would be wanting to bother his parents. That left very few other options, the best one probably being...

No, nothing will happen. It's ok.

...still, she blushed. It was, however, the best she could do, and she had said more or less that she would take care of him. Much like she was sure he would do if their positions were reversed. Michael Stern had a maturity about him that put her at ease. She found it strange how she had so easily come to trust him. Not completely, not yet, but enough for now. After many minutes of thought, and nothing to interrupt it, Anita dozed off in the chair. It was the first time in a while that the slightest bit of sleep had come easily.

[Stern]

The surgery went well. The surgeon explained the procedure to Stern and put him under. Then a few hours later he woke up with his right arm in bandages and more or less fastened to his torso.

"Don't move that arm too much, especially around your elbow. Shirts that button all the way down are good ideas. Otherwise, put your shirts on using that arm first," the technician told him.

The man showed Stern how it was done. "I'll also go over this with your friend so she can help you if she needs to."

Stern gave a thumbs up. "Sure."

"Do you have any clothes?" the medical worker asked.

"Only the ones that smell like they got dipped in a vat of human waste."

He nodded. "I'll get you a pair of scrubs to wear out."

Moments later Stern was dressed in a set of brown scrubs.

He emerged back into the waiting room to find Anita sleeping peacefully with her hands in her lap and her head bowed. He smiled.

"Wake up," Stern said gently into her ear and picked up her head in his hand. "We're nearly ready to go."

[Anita Stern]

Anita jolted awake and zipped her head from side to side, looking around.

"I'm not tired, I wasn't sleeping, honest!" It took a few moments, but she finally calmed down, hand to her chest, breathing in-out-in-out. Regardless of how simple and nostalgic the dream was, she'd nearly hit the roof (in a manner of speaking) when Stern had whispered in her ear. Noticing him there, she laughed, still catching her breath.

"Oh, it's you." She smiled, stifling a yawn. She looked over him; up, down, side to side. "Done already? That was fast."

[Stern]

Stern nodded. "It was good. I'm feeling a little loopy still, but I'll be ok."

The technician repeated to Anita the instructions for dressing Stern in his shirts and wished them well.

Stern put his arm around Anita's petite shoulders in case he fell over on the way out the door. "We need to get some new clothes for me. At least a pair of pants to sleep in and one set of clothes for wearing tomorrow."

He chuckled a little as he remembered her response to his wake up call. "What was the dream about?"

[Anita Stern]

"Oh, just a dream of a memory from when I was a child, and my parents had let me stay up late after my incessant begging..." She laughed.

Anita kept one hand wrapped around the straps on her shoulder bag, and the other swung back and forth naturally as they walked, heading soon out the hospital exit, making slowly for her car. It was a funny thing to her, how she could be somewhat comfortable with contact when it came to Michael Stern, but she doubted it would be the same case with everyone else - at least at first. Her level of comfort was still very low.

"Well, it's pretty late. I think you said you don't want to disturb your parents if it's too late, so..."

And she drifted off, really thinking about her suggestion. Questioning if she'd be comfortable with it. And then shrugging the questions off.

"...well, I have some of Daniel's old clothes still left at my place, if you're okay with that. You're roughly the same build, but he was...taller...so you might find legs of pants a little baggy, at least."

[Stern]

Stern shrugged. "I guess. It really makes no difference to me. If pulling out all that old stuff won't hurt your feelings, it won't hurt mine. I still need something to wear to bed. And I'd much rather buy new underwear."

Some things a man just wouldn't share in common with another guy. No matter how long it had been or how clean they were when the other guy wore them last.

"Let's make a quick stop at a store for that then we can go back to your place or wherever you wanted us to go."

[Anita Stern]

Anita laughed.

"Alright, alright. I guess that makes sense." She said mirthfully.

They had exited the hospital; she by then had put an arm around his waist to further make sure that Stern was good and steady, just in case if he were to stumble. He was warm. It seemed to defy logic how men were such furnaces, but she wasn't about to complain. As they got to the car, she pulled her keys out of her bag, and made sure that Michael got to the passenger side of the car. She unlocked the door and let him in, watching over him.

"Are you happy to be home?" She asked as he got in, her arms crossed over the top of the door, her chin resting on them.

[Stern]

Stern seated himself in the car. "More than you realize."

He smiled and buckled himself in, then reached across himself with his arm, beckoning Anita to him. He managed to get the tips of her fingers and guide her around the door to edge of his seat.

"Thanks so much for all your help." He gave her a tight squeeze. "Come on, let's go."

They stopped by the store. Stern grabbed some boxer shorts and got them paid for. Once that was done, the couple returned to the car and got back in.

"Not that I don't mind going without, but it would be nice to have them on hand."

Stern buckled his seatbelt and gave Anita's hand a squeeze. "So where are we going now?"

[Anita Stern]

"Well, you need... sleep..."

Every time he squeezed her hand, there was the habitual urge to pull her hand back at the touch. It hadn't been long since she had started working toward seeming a little more normal with physical contact, but all that time of a habit of avoiding it would have its effects, for a while still. Anita looked at him, keeping the barrage of his thoughts at bay (this still needed a lot of work), a smile on her lips and a pleading look in her eyes. His hand was warm, it felt nice, but...

"Please... I still can't manage the streams of conscious and unconscious thought for too long." She pulled her hand back, rubbing the thumb of her other hand into its palm, smiling further. "Besides, I'm the only one in decent enough condition to drive."

With that she turned to the wheel, and switched the gentle beast that was her car to on, with the turning of her key. It hummed to life. She began pulling out of the parking spot, and turned off, heading on to the road again. Once again moving, she broke the short silence.

"We're going to my place. You can try to get some rest, and I'll sort those books and get some work done."

[Stern]

"Of course."

Stern looked out the window and decided to withdraw a little himself. It was hard being home. He was tired and now his arm was going to start healing, but he had a big problem realizing that he was actually home.

Anita was worn down. Stressed and emotionally yanked around by his sudden appearance, he wound up accidentally making it worse with his small touches. It was still a little odd to him. He was there at home. She was real and not just something he thought he made up to keep himself moving towards home.

There was still so much to do. He needed to see his parents, find out about his college, hunt Neutron. It wasn't going to be easy.

"Sorry," he said at last. "I guess it's been a while I forgot about how hard it is for you to block out my thoughts. I just can't believe today happened."

[Anita Stern]

She sighed words while keeping her eyes on the road ahead, hands on the wheel.

"It's better than the alternative." That realization was a comfort to her. Anything that happened today was preferable to it not happening. While on one hand the level of contact and attention he had been giving her today was still beyond her comfort level, she preferred that as opposed to not having him around at all. Anita moved one hand from the wheel and tucked her hair into place behind her right ear.

"Having you home makes me less anxious, because then I know where you are is safe." The female mutant admitted. "Well, safer in familiarity, anyhow."

Anita knew that nowhere was by any means completely safe. The world each day was a little darker than before, despite the best well-meaning efforts of many individuals, groups, organizations and sometimes corporations. It just never seemed like enough, most of the time.

"I'm just still glad that you're here, even if your fondness and need to be close still makes me uncomfortable." She smiled sheepishly, and looked at him out the corner of her eye a brief moment before looking ahead again.

"I hope that makes sense, Michael."

[Stern]

Stern nodded. "Yeah. I'm pinching myself, really. Besides, I'm sure my mom will be the karmic foil and smother me when I go home." He grunted. "My dad will probably be the same way too. And the rest of my family. Don't worry, I think I will have been properly punished by the time the week is out."

There was a long silence. Exhaustion drained him further until all he could do was fight to keep his eyes half open and think about sleep.

"Will we be there soon? I'm so beat I could sleep for three whole days."

[Anita Stern]

"Soon. Just another turn up ahead, down a couple blocks, and we're there." Anita reassured him.

She could see that he was exhausted, and really, assuming all that he'd been through (especially with surgery) she really couldn't blame him. Compared to all that, she'd had it relatively easy. Compared to most people, she did, and it irked her that nothing truly difficult or worrisome happened in her life. Aside from her father, shot on the job - it wasn't even a particularly dangerous one - and she wasn't exactly on good terms with him at that point. Hell, they hadn't even talked for a good month by the time it happened, and part of her was sad, but part of her...a part she didn't like and had buried deep, deep within, saw the occurence as karmic and had cackled gleefully at the demise of one who had wronged her... even if only so very slightly. Those thoughts, surfacing now, seemed a little out of place, but she could place the connection. She felt some closeness to the man nodding off next to her, but it occured to her in these surrounding moments that every instance something happened to a man she was close to, the common denominator was her. And that? That was worrisome.

Just as promised, she had turned right at the end of a very long block, went down a further block and a half and pulled into the underground parking below a fairly modern building - constructed where its predecessor had fallen - and claimed her parking spot: #12. Gently, she shut the little beast down, and rested back against her seat, breathing out a sigh, and turning her head to Stern.

"We're here." She breathed quietly, slowly pulling gloves from her bag and slipping them over her hands. He was asleep. Anita leaned over a little, and reached across the small divide to poke curiously at his face with one short-nailed, manicured and gloved finger (hey, even nerdy librarians need a little pampering).

"Wake up, Michael Stern. We are at our destination..."

[Stern]

Stern leaned into the glove for a second, then away as the movement tickled his face.

"Mmm," he sighed and stretched. He made to move his injured arm, but it was still pinned in place. It bothered him a bit, but it would soon be a regular thing.

"Ok," he said. "Let's go."

He got out of the car and followed his hostess to her place. It was nice and smelled like her. "Where do I sleep?" he asked.

[Anita Stern]

Anita carted in books with a little help from Stern who (bless him!) was rather tired. Having the books set in her workspace, and taking her coat to hang it up in the coat closet, she came back to Michael, standing about, looking as if he would fall over. Hearing his question from down the hall, she was quick to reply when she entered the living/working area.

"Oh... well, I have a lot of work to get done, and I usually end up on the couch because it's closer, and you just had surgery and you look..." She laughed slightly, meaning no offense. "...you look pretty beat. You can go ahead and sleep on my bed. I honestly won't mind."

At the suggestion, she wandered to a door just off the living/working space, and turned the knob, gently pushing the door open into a spacious bedroom, where the bed was situated on the far side - a queen sized, four poster bed with light-toned linens and a patchwork quilt her grandmother had made for her mother (so Annette Florence, her mother, had told her), which Annette had given to Anita before she had left for University ten years before. It was well cared for, and Anita had applied her own skill to repairing wear and tear, and adding her own touches to it over time, just as her mother had done. The bedroom set (two side tables, a long dresser and a highboy) matched with the moderate stain tone of the wooden posts on the bed, that reached up to a willowy linen canopy.

The bedroom, and the whole condominium throughout, had high ceilings, and allowed for plenty of light, which meant that rarely was a light ever turned on during the longer days of the year. The kitchen, more spacious than a galley kitchen typical of most apartments, was just off of the living room area and was set with a table just outside of it, enough to seat six before expanding it to accommodate more. There was much more to the expansive condo, but going further would not be necessary. The other hall, unlit, was a place she rarely went near herself. There were reasons that she wouldn't get into, and she was certain (and hoping) Michael was much too tired to ask.

"Oh, and bedroom has its own bathroom." She added. "So you won't have to wander far, should you need to relieve yourself, or want to shower in the morning."

[Stern]

Stern nodded as he listened to Anita with maybe an ear and a half. He took in her room--quite the sanctuary of femininity--and turned to look at his hostess.

"Uh, Anita? Could you help me out of this shirt? I'm afraid that if it gets twisted up or something, it'll tweak my arm."

[Anita Stern]

Anita stared at him in mild disbelief. After expressing her ever-present discomfort at touch to him in the car, he was now asking her to help with his shirt? The request almost seemed incredulous, and almost impossible to grant. The look on her face changed from one of kind courtesy through her explanations to a different one entirely of some unease. This awkward silence and edge of hesitation went on for several moments (where she continued to just stare at him as if he were in a light bit of madness), before her mind began to rationalize everything out and she came to senses, realizing that the gloves on her hands were purposed for contact and that so far, Michael Stern had been nothing short of good to her and patient! So patient with me...

Her face cleared and represented with a small smile, and she reached for his good arm, hesitated, and looked at his face again. She nodded, one last convincing of herself that this wasn't going to kill her, and she stepped in closer. Grabbing hold of his arm gently, Anita used her other hand to take the bottom edge of the shirt on this side and crumple it up to his armpit as she lifted his arm up.

"Bend your arm, please..."

The request, as she guided it into the direction she wanted the arm to go, so that she could slip the shirt off his arm over his elbow. When the one half of the shirt sat on top of his left shoulder, she very carefully worked with the collar to slide it over his head, making sure not to disturb his right shoulder too much. The last part was done with slow care, his shoulder still very much fresh from surgery, and when she came down to his right wrist, finally pulling the last of the shirt off of him, it was there that she saw the condition of his torso. There was a plethora of scars, fading wounds, littered across the front of him, some looking like they were reaching for his back. The sight of it all shocked her a little, but she took a slight step back to see them fully. Without conscious thought, the scrub shirt was clutched close to her, and she lifted her eyes to his face again, a troubled curiosity coming over her features.

"Michael..." She glanced over his chest, snapping her eyes back up to his again. "...what is all this?"

Anita dropped her right arm to her side, her left hand almost wanting to touch all the strange markings as if they would give up their tales so easily. "What happened to you?"

[Stern]

Michael Stern was appreciative of Anita's help. He knew she was spent and wanted to be by herself a while, but he knew he was helpless to help himself. When at last he was free of the borrowed shirt, he looked down at her to thank her but he stopped short.

She was frozen in place looking at him with some sort of concern or anxiety. He was worried she was going to cry when she finally asked her simple question. His first impulse was to reach out and hold her or comfort her, but he knew it would cause her more unease than rest.

"This?" Stern asked, gesturing to himself. "A lot."

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Some of it is from my fight with the terrorist at ESU. After I failed there, the stress advanced my mutation and I traveled at the speed of light to Pakistan where a doctor patched me up."

He held up his left hand for her to see his forearm. "This is from a nuclear burn I suffered from the terrorist. I also suffered a few broken ribs and I don't remember what else."

"Qadir was a good man. He and his wife took good care of me while I was recovering. During my stay with him I learned to focus light into a point and set things on fire. While I was training in the mountains, Qadir and I were set upon by Al Qaeda." He gestured to the burn marks on his back and shoulders.

"They kicked some brush I caught on fire onto me. I killed two by shoving them off the cliffside. The other died as my human shield. Another I killed with my bare hands and the last one--" He looked at her and decided she needed to know. "I pinned him down with my foot on his chest and set his head on fire. His beard and hair, I caught it on fire and held him down under me while I watched him die."

He gestured to the scars from the bullet wounds. "These I got in Berlin in the East Bloc. A mercenary caught me by surprise with a sniper rifle and shot me two more times while I fought her. I bled out and she took me to a Jericho Center in Warsaw."

He traced his line across the long scar that crossed his chest on a gentle diagonal slope. "I got this fighting a mutant they sent to keep me from escaping."

Last of all he pointed to his shoulder. "I've already told you about the madman who did this to me."

Stern stood again. "It's been hard on me, Anita: not just on my body but on my heart and mind, too. It hardened me to have no way home and survive as best I could. If it wasn't for our sporadic communication and that promise I made to be there for you, I'm not sure I would have found my way."

He walked past her and turned off the light in the hallway, then shut the door. He also closed the blinds to her bedroom window so only the tiniest light got in.

"But it wasn't all bad," he said. He lowered his light and let it fade out. "I did learn to manage the dark. At least for a little while."

He returned to her and lifted his goggles onto his head. even the faintest light from outside hurt his eyes, but he could see her so well in the dark. Each delicate curl on her pretty head. Those eyes, big like saucers and shining like stars.

"I thought you might be interested to see one more part of me," he whispered, eyes watering up. "My eyes."

[Anita Stern]

The emotion behind his voice when he spoke was much more than gleaning the information herself with her gift could ever give. Hearing the words, the details, Stern admitting to all these things himself was beyond belief. The smart, gentle-hearted young man she met before was not quite the man that stood in front of her now and some of the things he said were shocking to her. Frankly, Anita didn't know what to think and that scared her. The whirlwind of thoughts ever present in her mind stuttered, halted, stuttered, and her eyes were wide, her hand lifted over her mouth to a gasp.

He... what?

She seemed to be struck dumb, as she moved to sit on the corner of the bed where Stern had been moments before, letting her hands rest in her lap. Now he was moving about, shutting out light, and Anita was stuck. Then he came to her again, and she tipped her face up to look at him as he removed his goggles to show her his eyes.

So... black...

"I..." She shook her head and tipped her head forward, looked down. "That all must have hurt. I..."

Anita ran both hands through her hair, held them at the back of her head a moment, then completed the run and lifted her head, tilted it to look at his face again. She could make out the moisture condensing in his eyes, and felt a sudden, definite concern clashing against the fear. Her hands curled into fists on her thighs.

"...I don't know what to say, Michael. I really don't."

[Stern]

Stern bent at the knees and squatted in front of her to look her straight in the eye with his.

"It's been a big day. We'll start with 'good night' and we can go from there later."

He took a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Suddenly he felt no tension at all. He was very relaxed and smiled a genuine, charming smile.

"Why don't you hold on to that?" he said gesturing at the shirt. "I think I'm going to finally get some rest."

Stern tugged the sheets half way down the bed with his good arm and smiled another natural smile.

"You just take your time. Waiting on you is simple compared to what I've been through."

[Anita Stern]

That smile seemed to bring her some ease. She hung her head and breathed out, let her shoulders down and eased her fingers from their curl. Swallowing, she brought her head up again and turned to watch Stern pull back the sheets. She smiled weakly.

"I don't think I'll be sleeping soon. Like I said: work."

While that was the truth, she knew thoughts of the detailing of his wounds would interfere with that activity. While the concern over that was still very much at the front of her mind, she had finally found it in her to set that aside so that Michael could get to a good night of rest without too much concern over her. Anita rose to her feet, shirt still in one hand, and brushed hair from her face. Then she turned to face Stern.

"Is there... anything else you need help with?"

[Stern]

Stern lifted the goggles free of his head. "No. Not right now."

He paused. "Well, at least me know if you're going to be all right. I told you a lot of dark and terrible things about myself. I hope I haven't upset you terribly bad."

[Anita Stern]

"Ah..."

He was really good. The concern was endearing, but she really didn't want to keep him from sleep. As she headed to the door and turned the knob, she paused just as the door was barely open. Anita looked back at him.

"...yes, I should be fine. Thank you." She finished.

Though the night and afterward would prove that statement truthful or otherwise, she declined the thought of letting him know. He'd been through enough and just needed to rest. Even if just for the sake of healing, he needed to rest. Turning back to the door and opening it just a bit further, just enough to let her slender body through, she spoke again - The farewell to precede dozing.

"Goodnight, Michael Stern. Sleep well." She whispered.

And slipped through the space, shutting the door behind her.

That's all so terrible. She thought to herself. No, he didn't like it. He.. he didn't have a choice.

Settling silently at her desk, Anita curled her legs up onto the seat, and propped her head up on her hand, an elbow to an armrest. She glanced at the books in crates on the floor, then looked at the powered down computer monitor and just sighed. A mostly restless night was ahead of her, that much she felt was true.

[Stern]

Michael waved with feeble fingertips as the weight of his day sat heavy on his shoulders and forced him into the bed. "Good night, Anita Florence."

His head hit the pillow. Stern just barely registered a smell of lilacs before he fell into the deepest and most restful sleep he had known since before commencement at ESU.