An Alternative Cure

[Jozua Cure]

Jozua Cure had spent some time on tip-toe, looking through the small window at the top of the door to her room, delighting in the fact that she knew a person's name as soon as they walked into her line of sight. This was more exciting than the hospital; she had gotten used to the names of the doctors - but those of the few scientists she had seen were more interesting. Every so often, she had become tired, and had to go and rest on her bed.

She recognised it now, the familiar feeling of aching in her legs, and settled her bare feet flat on the cold floor and padded back towards the bed. Perching on the edge of the sheets, rougher than those at the hospital - the facility wasn't exactly a hotel, but then, Jozua had never been to a hotel, so it didn't matter - she took in a few slow, shallow breaths, thin hands resting on angular knees. She had been thin and weak for most of her life, and it wasn't remarkable to the doctors any more; she found it difficult to eat, and that was that.



Despite this, hunger gnawed at her insides, and she gingerly rose, heading to the wall on her left where a basin, mirror and shelf resided. Upon the shelf rested a bowl of red jelly; due to the nature of the treatment she was due to undergo, jelly and water were the only things which wouldn't obstruct the doctor's work. She picked at the jelly with her fingernails, licking up its sweetness and smiling with an odd contentment. After taking what she needed, she washed her hands in the basin, glancing up at her reflection. The mirror showed a twenty-year-old woman with straight blonde hair that fell to her chin, and soft green eyes. Wiping her hands on her hospital gown - near enough the only garment she could remember wearing - she tip-toed back towards her bed and sat on its edge again.

She was in Warsaw, Poland. The trip had exhausted her and she had spend two, maybe three days drifting in and out of sleep, waking to use the bathroom and receive treatment for her ailment. She had been diagnosed with leukaemia just before her ninth birthday and after that, most of her days she found herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and needles and doctors. Her parents had told her she had always been sickly from birth. A premature birth, with a malformed stomach that stopped her eating, and a body so frail she required assistance if she was going outside for any length of time.

She was tired of the illness. Tired of the predictions of her life expectancy, the shock the doctors received when another birthday passed. Twenty years of sickness and sympathy, and the slowly fading love of parents that were supposed to do so unconditionally. They had four others to love and make them proud - Jozua would not be missed.

Yesterday she had told the man who administered her regular treatment that she felt strong enough to meet the doctor. Later that day she had been told that he would see her the next day. Today. Today everything changed.

'You have an X-Gene. A mutation of the genes that seems to be the next evolutionary step of our species.'

Jozua held those words in her mind. That was how she had her power. The doctor had made everything clear. As soon as he had expressed his interest in meeting her and finding out more, Jozua had requested to leave the hospital and travel to Poland. No more mundane hospital treatment - the doctor was talking about experimentation, possibly dangerous experimentation at that. It had sent electricity down Jozua's spine.

He had withheld his name. However, Jozua has realised that it proved no obstacle for her; her power would sort that. She trembled at the thought of meeting someone, with no mutation in his genes, with the ability to change her life. Any moment.

Dangerous. I have nothing to lose. If I die, it won't matter. But maybe, for once in my life, I will have helped somebody instead of burdening them.

She looked up as the door opened, lenaing forward in her eagerness and curiosity. A man she didn't recognise stepped into the room, however the determined look and the quiet thrill dancing in his eyes spoke his identity to her louder than if it had been broadcast over a megaphone.

She couldn't control the smile that her pale lips formed into, parting them as she knew his name, and gently murmured it:

"Doktor Klaus Heidegger."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus looked up from his medical charts and gave the girl a quick glance. "Yes, I am Doktor Klaus Heidegger. I see you have been brought to me due to a lifelong illness. That, along with the special gene that you carry has brought you to my facility for the purpose of finding a means to cure you."

Klaus sat on the edge of the bed by her feet. Klaus' bedside manner with most mutants was atrocious. Then again, most of the mutants in his care were there for his experimentation, not his medical advice. This one, however, seemed to be a harmless mutant. At least, given her frail body and the seriousness of her illness, it was highly unlikely that any ill should befall him.

He would play along for now. Until he could find a way to make her stronger. Then she would take her rightful place next to his other specimens.

"So you have been this way your entire life?" He asked. "We will see what we can do to end that soon."

Klaus tsked as he flipped through the other pages of the chart. "We have mapped out your genetic code and looked through it for any signs that would indicate your disease being hereditary. If your genetic code has somehow given you the predisposition for this illness, it will be uncurable. The best we can do is make it so you can live as close to normal as science can make you. Of course, I will be comparing the X-gene in your code to other X-gene carriers to check for any anomalies there."

Klaus hung the chart back on the foot of the bed and turned to look at Jozua.

"The tissue samples we have taken from your body are still being tested at this time. Until the results come in we will be monitoring you very closely."

An orderly entered the room with the girl's replacement IV bags.

Klaus smirked. He loved to see his breakthroughs put to use. "This bag," he said with pride, "is not your usual assortment of vital nutrients and antibodies. It also includes a serum I created myself with the research I have performed in this facility."

He hung the bag himself and set the IV drip to it. "The serum is based on a mutant I was given to study whose body secreted an oil with incredibly healing properites. As it courses through your body It will help to rid you anything that will hurt you and will help to restore any damage done to your internal organs."

The doktor then lifted what looked like a small oxygen tank from underneath the gurney. "This is the gas form of that substance. I have mixed it with the oxygen in this tank. You will be breathing through a mask for a few days while I complete my tests. It should do something for your lungs."

Klaus set up the tank and held the oxygen mask in his hand. "No doubt you will begin to feel better even after a few hours rest. But please resist the urge to get up from your bed. You will still need great amounts of rest and it is totally impractical to have you cured and walking around with these machines following you for the rest of your life."

Klaus picked up the girl's head as gingerly as he could and placed the oxygen mask over her head. He was greatly pleased with his work and took incredibly excitement at seeing his treatments in action. Anyone would have thought he was showing care and hope for his patient. Klaus only cared for his science.

"Now, sleep a while. I will return in several hours to check on your progress."

The orderly pushed the gurney out of the room and Klaus dimmed the lights a little more before leaving.

[Jozua Cure]

With a drip needle in her hand and a mask over her face, Jozua was easily reminded of the hospital. Trying not to let it upset her, she waited with her eyes open until they adjusted to the lessened light, and then wriggled a little on the sheets. But still, it was painfully similar to being in the hospital; she was in a room on her own instead of being in a ward, but the equipment that surrounded her and the summary by the doctor remained mirrored to her own experience.

I don't feel any better.

Still, the doctor had said that he wouldn't return for several hours - presumably that meant that he wouldn't be expecting any noteworthy results until that time. She had to wait, amuse herself until he came back. She inhaled deeply, trying to smell the mixed air that filled her lungs, and released it, breath steaming the mask's clear plastic. She moved her fingers, trying to feel the needle in her hand. Nothing.

Maybe it happens so much I can't feel it any more.

Sleep. Sleep would pass the time, and Jozua was rather good at it, but the excitement that made her whole body tremble prevented her from doing so. Soon something about her would change; if the serum had the planned effect, her body would become stronger, and the damage that the cancer had caused would be undone. A small smile played on her lips as she contemplated it. She would be able to do the things her sisters had told her about; playing, shopping, partying, meeting others ...

Bored now.

Her mind drifted to the doctor. The gentle touch he had used while placing the mask on her head seemed to be the kindest thing she had felt in a long time. The doctors in America were always careful to make sure that she was comfortable, but her new doctor ...well, having a European man speak to her was oddly comforting. Although he was little like the people she had known in her birth country, he was still distinctly un-American, and she tried to find out what that difference was. It was strange, implacable. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the feeling of his hands on her hair and face. Gentle, light, and ...

He cares for me. He believes I am special.

Something caught in her throat and she released it in a quiet squeak, a thin dribble of liquid escaping the corners of her eyes. With her unhindered hand, she wiped them away. He had not looked upon her with frustration or tiredness. His eyes had shown promise for her, confidence that she would get well. And he had told her to sleep.

And so I sleep.

*

When she next woke, her chest felt tight. A look around the room revealed that she was still alone, however as each increasingly panicked breath became more of a struggle, she wished she wasn't. Rolling from her back onto her side, she weakly groped at her face for the mask. It was still there, but the continuing fight to breathe quickly sapped away her faith in it.

I-It was supposed to help! What's happening ...?

"H-help ..."

Everything felt wrong, and a wave of feelings suddenly crashed down and brought a chilling sensation over her entire body, making her skin feel clammy as cold sweat beaded up on pale flesh. A pang of pain in her right side accompanied sickness bubbling in her throat, and her fingers feebly curled into fair, damp hair as she buried her face into the sheets.

Why isn't it ...I feel so sick ...why is this ...why --

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Just as the Doctor came back, he saw the girl go into fits.

"She's crashing!" The doctor said into a microphone. "Get me a crash cart, Now."

Klaus entered and held the girl down. He didn't understand. The Phoenix Tears and the Phoenix Gas was supposed to weaken the disease. Was it fighting back?

The Doctor removed the mask and hastily pulled the IV from her arm. "Bring me Sample 5YMB10T3."

There was chatter over the speaker and Klaus clenched his jaw. "Do not argue! I have no time to test it! If it doesn't work now, then we won't have the chance to see if it will work later. Regardless, this girl will die soon."

Klaus wrestled the girl down and injected her with a serum to calm her down She had to be still if the sample was going to take.

The orderlies rushed in with the crash cart. One of them had the sample with him.

Klaus motioned for it and opened his hand to receive it. It stood in a petri dish. Every so often it would ripple, bubble or pop. It was by far the most fascinating and frightening thing he had ever created.

Built out of an incomplete sample of Jozua's tissue, he had done a number of alterations to the genetic structure. The main idea was that the tissue, in an attempt to stabilize itself, would find on its own where it could replace itself into the girl's genetic coding. It could not live without the rest of her DNA to support it. With luck, it would do as Klaus had engineered it and replace the portions of her DNA where Klaus had isolated the source of her illness.

"This will be my greatest achievement, or my greatest downfall."

Klaus put on some latex gloves and opened the petri dish. The tissue sample reached up voraciously for his fingers. Resisting the urge to suddenly withdraw his hand, he scooped up the sample onto his fingers and smeared it on the girl's chest. The stuff latched onto her skin and started regenerating at a rate that Klaus found to be alarming.

Terrified, but fascinated he watched it makes its way up her neck and into her throat, nose, and ears. Had he not sedated Jozua it could have become violent.

Klaus dismissed his staff and stood by the bed. Within an hour the sample had covered the girl's entire body, and to the best of his knowledge, her insides as well.

He held up a recordable device. "Onset of Sample 5YMB10T3 one hour."

Then the sample receded into her skin and she looked normal again. "Sample is absorbed enirely into the subject. No noticeable outward change."

Then he checked her vitals. "Heart rate and blood pressure normal. Taking blood sample."

Klaus produced a syringe and drew a sample of Jozua's blood. "Here's to science."

He withdrew from the room with the blood sample to test his findings. With any luck, the disease had been removed.

[Jozua Cure]

Tenderly, Jozua cracked her eyes open. A sliver of light from the corridor outside played across her face, and tiredly she squeezed her eyes shut again, rolling away from the door, taking care to leave the hand attached to the drip outstretched, so it wouldn't pull.

In the next second she jerked up, backs of both hands before her face so she could study them. A tentative inspection of her fingertips tracing over unmarred skin was followed by a sharp, frightened gasp. No puncture or wound. No evidence that she had ever been linked to an IV. Thoughts of suffocating and sickness faintly splashed at the back of her mind, like a shy child with watercolours.

A sudden, sharp image.

"She's crashing! Fetch me a crash cart, now." Hands forced her thrashing body down onto the sheets, and a buzz of blurred words filled her ears ...

Then nothing. Jozua blinked, becoming more panicked by the second as she looked around the bare room. No IV stand, no mask and its tank with peculiar healing gas. Even the jelly was gone from the shelf. Another thought crept into her mind, like a child more confident with watercolours.

Am I ...dead?

Hurriedly, she got up from the bed, padding to the door and rising up onto tip-toe to peer through it. Nobody seemed to be around outside. She knocked on the cold glass, straining to see another human, find a name that she recognised. "Hello?"

No answer. She stayed there for many more minutes, flinching at the slightest sound and alerting herself in the hope that somebody would round the corner and explain why her hands were unmarked, why the equipment had been removed, if there was any possibility of getting some jelly and why she didn't feel tired at all after being out of bed for so long ...

At this thought, she sank to the floor and cuddled her knees close to her chest. She was still as thin and pale as she had ever been, yet somehow stronger. Was this what it felt like to be dead? What a cruel irony, to be sick and close to death throughout life and then feel more alive once she actually passed away. Her stomach growled, and she dug her hands into her hair, tapping her toes against the floor in an effort to divert her thoughts from jelly and fruit. Oranges. She said aloud to the walls, "I really would like an orange."

Even Doctor Heidegger was unable to help me. She let out a long sigh, burying her forehead onto her knees and feeling the bones press against once another. I wonder if I helped his research? ...If I am dead, and maybe a ghost, could I go and see?

She got to her feet, surprised by the ease with which she did so, and turned to face the door. She reached out and tried the handle. Locked. Maybe they don't realise yet. Her fingers spread, and she softly placed her palm flat against the door. It was cool to the touch. Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed against it. Nothing. Maybe I am not a ghost. Or maybe I cannot go through walls. Maybe I am a different kind of ghost. Maybe --

Her thoughts died as an odd sensation spread through her back. Reaching around, she felt the thin material of her hospital gown, and her heart rushed as her fingers found a lump. A lump that moved, pulsated and pulled at her skin, like something from the inside trying to escape. What is this?

Pain lanced through her body like lightning, driving out a shocked scream as she stumbled backwards, hands grabbing at her spine. A second lump had emerged, identical to the first, symmetrical at the blades of her shoulders. Something dark and grey leapt from her arms, bringing with it a spurt of blood which only served to heighten Jozua's terror. More appeared, shooting out only for a split-second before they disappeared back into her body, each leaving the same trail of crimson. Some ripped through the antiseptic coloured gown, staining the ragged holes they left behind, but more was the burning at her back, and Jozua crumpled to the floor with another scream, hands flying to her hair and elbows taking her weight.

Then, peace. It subsided and left only the stinging of the various cuts that laced her body. Gasping for breath, Jozua curled into a ball, head between her elbows as trembling accompanied her tears.

What is happening to me?

The tightness of her skin was released as the distensions tore free in a shower of red, shredding the back of her gown and delivering a bolt of pain so sudden that Jozua couldn't react to it. Hot blood spattered over the walls and ceiling, and in the middle of it all Jozua pulled herself to her feet, glancing over at the mirror which revealed the monstrosity attached to her back.

The two appendages were in the right place for wings, but these were long, bulky and not at all wing-shaped. They jerked and curled, and while they seemed to consist of spiky feathers, Jozua was not convinced that that was what they were. Turning, she saw that the bough-like additions attached to the blades of her shoulders in a spiky manner, one point on either side stretching down to the base of her spine. These were well rooted, it seemed, and would not disappear. Horrified and fascinated, she saw the web of dark lines that covered her back, and looking down realised they were extending to her limbs. Another glance at the mirror revealed that the vein-like marks were twisting upwards on her neck to her face --

She was consumed. Staggering towards the mirror, she grabbed the basin for support, peering closer to try and understand why her the blackness of her pupils seemed to be flooding out into the rest of her eye, until they were as pitch as an animal. A feeling of wildness filled her, a need to stalk and hunt, to defend against anything that might attack. To compete. To fight.

As quickly as the feeling had appeared, it vanished, along with the inky blackness in her eyes and the lines that traced her body. They faded back into chalk-coloured skin, until only the appendages remained. They twitched, and then suddenly reduced their size, shrinking fast until each spanned no more than a foot. The pain that her fascination had dulled swept through her again in full force, sending her crashing back to her knees and violently shaking. She let out a whimper, and searched the room desperately for somewhere dark. Somewhere safe.

The bed caught her eye and she dashed towards it, sliding beneath it and closing her body again, breath coming in shattered pants as the pain subsided. A moment of quiet.

It seemed that she was very much alive.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus entered the room and noticed immediately that there was a lot of red spattered around the room and Jozua was nowhere to be found.

"Jozua?" He asked. He kept his voice soft in case she was in the room. He didn't want to scare her. Of course, it was also possible that somewhere during the time he was gone something had happened and she died. He'd have to reference the closed-circuit cameras later.

"Jozua?" He called again. "Are you ok? I brought some food and I wanted to ask you a few questions."

The food was on a cart in the hallway. Mostly oatmeal and other soft things. There was also fruit. An orange, an apple. There was also a peanut butter sandwich outside. Water, juice, and even a cola complimented the small feast.

"I would dearly like to see how you've progressed."

[Jozua Cure]

At the sound of the voice, Jozua froze, dark wing-like appendages flaring up before settling flat on her back. Her nose wrinkled as the reek of dried blood attacked in a wave, the crimson crumbling and flaking off her shredded gown, almost destroyed by her transformation. She traced her cheeks and forehead with trembling fingers, found more of it dried on her face, and curled up tighter.

The voice was soft, but she recognised it as the doctor's. It was odd, completely unlike his clipped, professional tone. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

I have questions. What happened to me? Is this my cure? Can you explain? Who am I right now? ...What will I become?

Tentatively, without knowing why, she sniffed the air, and picked up on the freshness of citrus fruit. Oranges. Crawling forward, she came close enough to see a pair of shoes, the legs attached to them and the snowy hem of a lab coat. She could see the dark rivers of her own blood, and something told her that she shouldn't feel as well as she did. Despite the hunger that made her stomach twist, feelings of faintness and sickness were non-existent. She glanced down at her forearms, and to her surprise they were smooth and unmarked. Again, no trace ...

"I would dearly like to see how you've progressed."

No. I am a monster.

Silence. The doctor seemed to have nothing more to say. He was just ...waiting. Hair falling over her face, she retreated back further under her bed, back into darkness and safety. He would not be pleased. Something beyond her knowledge and control had happened, and she couldn't expect anyone to understand or like it.

He knows of mutants, though. Perhaps he can explain. There is nobody else to help me now.

Slowly, noiselessly, she crawled forward, emerging like a butterfly from its cocoon. Trembling from anxiety, she got to her feet, pulling the tattered, stained gown around her willowy frame, trying to retain some modesty. From under her thin hair, she glanced at the mirror across the room in an effort to avoid looking at the doctor, and let out a cry of relief as she saw, between the streaks of dark blood, that her back was free of the appendages that had clung to it only minutes before. When had they disappeared?

The doctor cleared his throat, and her attention snapped back to him, fingers hurriedly pulling her hair out of her eyes. Now she thought of it, the gown, with its back all but totally torn up, and the various holes that streaked the material at regular intervals, left little for an onlooker to deciper as to the shapes of her body. She offered a shy smile, cheeks pinking in her vulnerability.

"Um, doctor --" She cast her eyes around the room, wanting to shrink from the mess, but knew she had to own up to it. Her smile widened as a small spark of happiness ignited inside her, "You've never called me by my name before."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

"Yes, well, we have not had much time for talking. When you first came to me, you were barely strong enough to answer the important medical questions I needed so I could help you feel better."

The doctor set the tray down on a small table at the foot of the hospital bed and went into one of the small closet areas and produced a fresh gown.

"Come now, let's you get you out of that tattered rag."

He decided not to ask her about the room or her clothes. Her body would answer his most important question--Was she hurt?

He unbuttoned the back of the gown and slid it off her in a professional manner. "I know it must be uncomfortable, but I need a chance to examine you like this for a moment."

He looked over her back first. No cuts, bruises or scratches.

"Arms up."

He positioned her arms straight out to her sides and checked her ribs and abdomen with his hands. Nothing seemed wrong. Satisfied that there was no external damage or broken bones, Klaus reached around Jozua and held the gown out for her to put her arms through.

Once Jozua was back in a fresh gown, he directed her to sit on the bed and rolled the table around to her so she could eat.

"Jozua," Klaus said. Apparently the girl took some ease out of hearing her name. Maybe she would be more willing to talk about what happened. "You certainly seem to be doing much better."

He motioned around the room. "But, what happened here? And why were you under the bed?"

There had been a small alert about a mutant trying to escape a laboratory several floors up. He had been assured that the public sector of the building--the part that looked like an average hospital--had not been breached by the mutant. Still, something or someone might have entered the room and given the girl quite a scare.

"Are you all right?"

[Jozua Cure]

She fought hard to remove the reddening of her cheeks, but failed miserably, even as she picked up an orange and picked at its peel in an effort to distract herself. The doctors in America had always let her change clothes herself ...

Her cheeks flared with a flush again as she peered up at the doctor from under her pale hair. She reached for the juice, took a small sip, and replaced it on the tray, licking her lips. The jelly caught her eye, and she took a spoonful of that, and then another, giggling in her delight. She was still hungry! Some of the food she hadn't even eaten before. A small smile played across her lips as she ran her fingers over the items, and then returned to slowly peeling the orange.

"I am doing much better." She murmured. "I used to find it difficult to eat. The doctors in Holland told my mother that my stomach hadn't formed properly because I was born prematurely. When I tried to eat something, I felt full as soon at it touched my lips. If I ate, I threw up. They had to keep giving me water so I wouldn't damage my throat by bringing food back up all the time. It was difficult for me to gain weight, and so as a baby they always thought I might die." She took in a breath. The doctors had always known, so there was no need to tell them. It was what she was.

It is what I have been. Now, I am different.

"They always thought I would die. They said I wouldn't live to my third birthday, then my fifth, then my seventh --" Her voice trembled as she ducked her head, "and then I became more ill. I was nine, and I had a little brother and sister that I ...I ..." A sniff. "I wanted to see them. I wanted to be with them. But I couldn't teach them anything. My childhood was fragile. I couldn't show them what it was like to be a child."

She lifted her head, tears streaming down her face as she locked eyes with Klaus, "And now, I am twenty, and I will never have a childhood. My parent's love for me has faded. Now I am well, will they want me back? I-I think, is that enough to make them love me again?"

A flare of pain in her right side, as before. Jozua winced momentarily, but didn't falter any more than that.

"You are the only one who believes I will live. That I am special and worth your efforts." She squeezed the orange, then placed it back on the tray, shoulders slumping. There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't move, and futilely she tried to wipe the tears away, only to have them swiftly replaced by more. A shaking hand reach out towards Klaus, finding his own hand and gently clasping it with cold fingers. "I want to live. For my whole life I have struggled to do that, and seeing others doing it so easily made me wonder why I was made so weak. Perhaps it was for this; so I would be led to you and you would see another reason to try for me."

Never before had she poured her heart out to any person, especially not somebody she barely knew. But yet, despite the little time they had spent in each other's company, she knew him better than the doctors that had tended her for years. It hurt, finally realising that she had nothing left to go back to, and that a murky future lay ahead. But now, her body was stronger, and she had to match it in will. A feeling of lightness played through her, like something heavy had been removed from her slender shoulders, and she managed a fractionally wider, but far happier smile.

She got to her feet, and smiled ruefully at the doctor, squeezing his hand gently. "I am all right. ...But I'm not sure I can describe what happened here. And ...I don't know when it will happen again, or even if it will."

A pause. She still held his hand in hers. She searched his face for any change, but he seemed to be content in listening. She looked past him, at the window in her door. "...Could I go outside, please? Just to look - I - I am curious to know what else is here. I promise I will not be any trouble. Please, doctor?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus ignored her blushing. He had seen plenty of bodies in all types and conditions.

He watched her eat the fruit and the bowl of jelly. Just before he could go outside to get the rest of the food, she took him by the hand and...well, confided in him.

It was a new experience for Klaus. Even before his work in the field of mutant biology, he had never once had a patient open up to him like Jozua had. Not knowing what to do, he simply sat across from her.

Once she was finished, Klaus let his hand out of hers and took some paper towels by the sink. "Dry your eyes."

He stepped outside for the peanut butter sandwich and the water, juice, and the cola.

Klaus set them in front of her and moved the rest of the fruit onto the new tray. "We will need some proper clothes for you to go outside."

The weather in Warsaw was cold. He would need a hat, scarf, long-johns, proper under-attire, and at least some pants, a shirt, a heavy coat, and some shoes or boots for her.

Given the randomness of the event she was unwilling to describe, he was not sure if letting her out of the hospital was a good idea. He chose deliberately to ignore her questions about her family for the time being. He had no plans to permanently release her to the outside world, given her mutancy, but he didn't need her to know that yet.

"I will see about making arrangements for you to go out soon. For now I need to see the security cameras about what happened to you and make my guesses on what happened. I will send my secretary to buy you some clothes to wear. She's about your size. When everything is settled, we will go out."

Klaus kind of wanted to see how she fared outside. The outside world was the best chance he had of seeing if his cure actually worked. He would need a containment team set up in the area where he would take her in case she had another incident like the one he suspected happened earlier.

"I need to make a call or two. I'll be just outside. Please do try to eat. If you are feeling brave, eat the sandwich. And there's a cola for you, just for fun."

Klaus stepped out into the hallway, dialed his secretary and made the arrangements for her to take an extended lunch to go shopping for Jozua's clothes. His second call was to his head of security. He spoke to the man in his own tongue. If Jozua came to the door, he didn't want her to know what he was planning. He needed her to be as relaxed as she could be. If she felt frightened or uncomfortable, it could trigger another incident.

[Jozua Cure]

Some of the words were similar to her own mother-tongue, but that was simply because the languages were Germanic; that was all they had in common. Jozua knelt at the doorway, supporting her weight with one hand as she leaned out into the corridor, her head tilted to one side, chewing enthusiastically on the sandwich. The savoury substance she identified as peanut butter (some of the healthier occupants of her ward had had interesting food brought from home by their families) stuck to the roof of her mouth, but she sucked it away with ease and continued to munch. Moments later, the sandwich ceased to exist, and Jozua padded back into her room, licking the crumbs from her fingers. She returned with the bowl of oatmeal, and although it was unflavoured, she ate it quickly, the odd specks dotting her mouth and flecking onto her gown and wrists.

Looking up, she found the doctor's gaze on her, and smiled sheepishly. "I am sorry. I suppose I am a messy eater." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and the dry blood that flaked onto her skin reminded her of her current appearance. Fresh clothes or no, blood was streaked up her face and limbs, and there was probably some in her hair, too. Heading back into her room, she found a paper towel and dampened it with water from the sink, and scrubbed at her face and arms with it. The blood washed off pink in the water. Casting a look over her shoulder, Jozua wondered for a moment who would clean the room she had coated in her own blood ...

Looking back at the mirror, she smiled at the fresh-faced, bright-eyed young woman that beamed back at her. Pale hair fell about features that to her were astonishingly pretty, and she had to poke at her cheeks to ensure that they were real, and really her own.

She turned, spied the doctor at the door and was unable to keep the smile from her face. "How soon?"

*

Warsaw was cold. The doctor had not been lying when he had warned her of that prior to stepping outside. Still, the synthetic fur that ruffled around her face kept most of the cold out, and her hands were enveloped in thick gloves. In fact, most of the clothing was thick. The cold bit at her cheeks, however Jozua was determined not to let it deter her as she looked over her shoulder at the institution they had just stepped out of. She hadn't spent any time observing it when she entered. And really, aside from the fact that any other form of habitable structure was absent from the area, it wasn't too remarkable. But then, she was sure that the doctor wouldn't want to advertise his work with mutants.

"Fry ...frid ...drik. Frydryk --" The scarf pulled up around her face hid the curve of her lips. In truth, the Poles had funny names.

You have a boy's name, Joshua. Remember?

She pulled down the soft scarf, and called over the growing wind, "Doctor? Where are we going?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

"There is a park nearby. I think we'll just go out there and see the sights. There is also a museum of art that we can go to. And once you've had enough sight seeing we can go stop for coffee on the way back to the Jericho Institute. Of course we will stop for lunch when you are hungry."

The doctor had left his professional attire in the building. He almost never left and only paid rent on an apartment when he decided he had time to do more than fall asleep in his office chair. Every so often he did return to the apartment to wash up and shave.

Today he wore a pair of khaki pants, his long-johns under that. He wore a a long sleeved shirt that buttoned down the front and a heavy coat with a hood. He wore a pair of earmuffs but let the cold greet his face unopposed. He never did like scarves.

He trusted his secretary to find a decent set of clothes for Jozua. His secretary brought them to him, describing them as warm, adorable, and in the most recent fashion. Heidegger never bought clothes for himself much, but when he saw the bill he forced himself not to look shocked at the price.

It was his fault. He hadn't specified a budget to the secretary, who only pursed her lips at him and said that girls will be girls--even the mutant ones.

Klaus nodded absently and arranged with payroll to have the amount reimbursed to his secretary along with her next paycheck.

The time outside served a number of purposes: to see how much Jozua had recovered in the past day or two, assess any intentional or accidental harm she might cause to her surroundings when/if provoked, and allowed the janitorial staff to take a solid crack at cleaning the hospital room Jozua had ruined.

"How do you feel today?" He asked.

She was excited about her outing. Klaus did not have time to see if the girl slept at all the night before as the first thing to happen would be the outing. She nearly lept out of the door all dressed to go.

She was indeed quite childlike and her curiosity knew no limit. Klaus never could quite see her for her age. She was just a little girl.

A potentially dangerous one at that.

The doctor checked his phone for the time. 1030. And he would be out as long as Jozua cared to. He felt irked at not being in his labs conducting his tests. He'd have to see the recordings and the data later on.

"Where to first? Anywhere that you can see, we will go."

[Jozua Cure]

Jozua couldn't believe her ears. "Anywhere?"

Never before had she been allowed so much freedom. Her gloved hands bunched into fists that she brought up to her chin, and she bobbed on the spot, letting out a delighted squeak. Turning to Klaus, she wiped her eyes, which were watering from the cold, and said gleefully, "The park, please! I've never been to one ..."

She fell into step next to him as he led the way, eyes widening as she tried to take in everything around them. The brown calf boots lined with pink synthetic fur crunched along the ground as she hurried to keep up with Klaus' more even pace, her half-skips causing her hood to fall from her head and reveal the fluffy white earmuffs that were wrapped over her hair. In her lack of attention, she bumped into the doctor's shoulder and bounced back with a mumble of apology, "I am sorry --" At his nonchalant look, she guessed she was forgiven and tried to quell her excitement.

It's so different. It's cold and big and the people have such funny names ...


"Um, thank you, as well. For the clothes - I really like them." Jozua beamed at the doctor, fingers pulling at the pink scarf around her neck. The secretary had been generous in her choosing, allowing Jozua to dress herself in black pants over thick woollen tights, which tucked into the chocolate and pink coloured boots. A large coat that swallowed her willowy frame provided protection from the chilly wind, and a pink scarf and gloves added to the splash of colour. She didn't give the doctor a chance to respond, however, as the park came into view and she started towards it with a zealous squeal, bouncing up onto the seat just inside its enclosing barriers, spreading her arms wide in the air as she peered up at the white sky.

It made her eyes water, so she squeezed them closed and let the liquid run over her cheeks. A smile of liberation played across her features, and as she heard the doctor approach, she took in a deep breath of chilled air, opening her eyes and releasing her breath in a stream of mist from between softly parted lips. "...Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?" More mist. "I used to look out of the window and watch the birds, and admire them. Envy them, even. I wonder if I could do it now?"

Stretching out a leg, she stepped forward, drawing in her breath again. Despite the heavy clothing, she tried to imagine being as light as a dove. She hopped off, gravity took its hold, and she landed with her feet together on the frosty ground. "Mm. Maybe not."

She turned to Klaus and held out one of her hands towards him. "Take me anywhere, doctor." She closed her eyes, but the beam on her face showed all the thrill she was taking from the trip: "This is much better than being in a hospital."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus watched her play on the park bench. "I'm actually studying mutant flight. There seems to be no one way the mutants fly. Some have wings, others use the wind, some seem to do it by an unknown power. The theory is that they have some kind of personal telekinetic power that moves them. It's an interesting study."

Klaus had no love for notions of flying or being a merman.

Klaus reached out with a leather glove and shook the tips of Jozua's pink-clad fingers. "Very well. We will go to the center of the park and see what is there. There is a fountain and a statue. Maybe there will be people performing. Sometimes you can find a man playing guitar or a juggler."

He walked on with his hands clasped behind his back, admiring the deep chill of his country. So crisp. He loved the edge of the cold weather. To him it characterized something important for himself.

"Come, Jozua."

[Jozua Cure]

It was easy for her to obey, and not much of her life had been centred around rebellion. In fact, it was rare that the thought had even crossed her mind. Had she rebelled, her life would have faded, and the doctors would not be to blame. She tottered ahead of Klaus, stopping to watch a bird as it flew overhead or peer a little closer at the people who passed her by, trying to work out exactly how one was supposed to pronounce that odd combination of letters.

Surprisingly enough, the fountain had not frozen over as she was expecting, however she was not completely disappointed as she reached its edge, and found that the cloudy ice masked most of the water in the pool. Dropping to her knees, she pulled off a glove and reached out towards the ice, squealing as its touch froze her fingertips until they burned. Steeling herself, she briskly rapped on the ice with her knuckles, frowning as it didn't crack.

"It must be very thick, then." Wriggling her hand back into her glove, she managed to get halfway to her feet before being bowled over by a fluffy Husky, which eagerly licked her face and disappated the fear in an instant. Instead, Jozua giggled and reached up to bury her hands into the dog's thick fur, wrapping her arms around the dog's shoulders and feeling for its collar. Unlike with humans, she was unable to see the dog's name. She had discovered this was the case when seeing the birds outside and the cats that her family kept on the rare occasions that she went home. Before she could read the tag, however, the dog was whistled away by its owner, and Jozua got back to her feet. "Bye!"

Brushing herself off, she spied Klaus some feet away, silently observing her as usual. She headed back towards him, looking up at his face with a bemused expression on her own. "...Doctor Klaus? I-I've noticed ...you don't smile much. Um, at all, really." She brushed away stray strands of her hair, and looked up at him again, "Is something wrong?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus looked down at the petite girl, noticing that the big dog had managed to shed some hair on her clothes.

"Nothing is wrong." It was true. "I'm a private person, Jozua. My work is also my entire life. I don't spend much time away from the Jericho Center. In fact, this outing with you is the first time I have been outside the Center since before your arrival."

He paused a moment and watched the dog and its owner play with a frisbee. "Did you enjoy the fountain and the dog?"

[Jozua Cure]

Not going outside by choice?

Instead of showing her bemusement, Jozua put on the smile that had been nearly ever-present on her face since the evening before. So maybe Klaus didn't smile; she could do enough for both of them. "Yes - I've never had too much contact with animals - the doctors thought it would make me worse. And the fountain looks like the ice could be broken, but it's not ..." She trailed off as her thoughts wandered back to it, but she was interrupted by a quiet growl from her stomach.

"Doctor, you should go outside more. I have spent so much of my time indoors, so I have never realised how good the outside air feels." She pulled her hood up, and pushed some hair out of her face, "You're not being good to yourself, letting yourself stay inside. I didn't have a choice until now; but now I'm out here I want to stay outside for as long and often as I can."

Another growl, louder and ruder this time, wanting to be noticed. A small, brief stab of pain in her side accompanied it, however's Jozua's attention was already on her hunger. "Oh, excuse me." Her hands wrapped around her middle, "...I'm getting hungry. Can we go somewhere to eat?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus listened to her with patience. He did not have time to try to explain to her the nature of his work. He likewise chose not to comment on her vow to go outside at every available opportunity.

"You are hungry? There is a small place here just outside the park. We can get something to eat there."

The doctor started off towards the edge of the park closest to the place. The old couple who ran that store had been in charge of it for as along as Klaus could remember. It had been the site of many meetings for contracts and other important business deals.

The couple quickly learned his face and name. Even after the contracts had been made, Klaus still visited the restaurant from time to time when he needed to change his environment and think. His phone indicated no messages when he checked the time. It meant things were running smoothly back at Jericho. The lunch hour was soon to be in full force. A perfect time to see how Jozua handled very large crowds.

"Come along, Jozua, or we will have to wait to eat."

[Jozua Cure]

"I'm coming!" Jozua set off after the doctor at a brisk pace dotted with half-skips. At his side, she peered out towards to park exit where people were numerous, the names swarming through Jozua's mind. As Klaus stepped out of the park and into the crowd, she could not match his confident stride and quickly found more than a couple of bodies separating them. "Doctor - please wait!"

She started after him, trying to keep her eyes locked on the back of his head, and reached out to grasp his elbow: "Wait --"

The man turned, and it was not the doctor she had become so fond of. He let out a string of words that she didn't understand, and she shrank away, mumbling apologies in both the tongues she knew. She bumped into another, a woman who seemed only a few years older, who looked irritated at Jozua's inability to stand steadily. Bowing her head, Jozua apologised again, and then desparately swept her eyes around, searching for Klaus.

Where did he go? He has disappeared ...

She darted forward, squeezing herself between the crossing paths of the people, trying not to skid on the frosty ground. A moment later she collided with another person, and worriedly began stuttering apologies: "Droevig --excuseer m --"

Looking up, her face flushed with embarassment as her wide green eyes met Klaus', and without hesitation she flung her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder, "Mijn verontschuldigingen ..."

She drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves, then loosened her grip. "I am sorry - I got lost ..." She closed her eyes, smiling up at him, "But I am safe now."

Grabbing hold of his upper arm with both hands, excitement spread through Jozua again as she grinned at the matrix of people. "This is wonderful. I've never seen so many ...please, can we go to that place to eat now?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus heard her in the crowd falling behind. He turned and waited until she finally bumped into him. When Jozua found him at last he hardly had time to say a word before she wrapped her arms around him tightly and pressed her face into his shoulder.

At a loss of what to do with his arms, Klaus finally managed to give her an awkward pat on the head.

"Yes, you're all right."

The girl took him by the arm and leaned against him. It was closer than he liked most of his test subjects--or anyone for that matter--but he managed not to pull himself away.

"Yes. Stay close. We will get to the restaurant soon."

Klaus elbowed his way through the people, towing Jozua along behind him. At last they reached the end of the crowd and crossed the street to a small place.

They entered together, Jozua still holding onto him despite the extra room and lack of crowds. An old, heavyset woman came up to them and smiled. "Klaus, it has been so long."

Klaus nodded. "Indeed. Most of our contracts for the Jericho Center are argued out in a conference room now, rather than your small restaurant."

The old woman smiled. "I believe your table is still open. Come, and we'll seat you there."

They followed the heavyset woman to a table in the back. "I always said you looked like members of the mob sitting at this table," she chuckled. And who is this lovely young lady you have with you?"

Klaus took his arm back from Jozua and introduced her. "Mother Durski, this is Jozua Cure. Until yesterday she has been living with leukemia. Now this is her first day of being well."

Klaus gave his signature prideful smirk. "I cured her yesterday and now we are seeing how well that cure holds."

Klaus seated Jozua at the table and took his own seat on the opposite side. "Mother Durski, tell Chef Durski that we will have perogis today."

The old woman smiled. "Of course. How many would you like?"

Klaus paused a moment. "Six with beef, six with potatoes, and another six with potatoes and cheese."

The old woman nodded. "And to drink?"

"Two glasses of water. Jozua, is there something you would like special to drink?"

[Jozua Cure]

"Umm ..." Jozua looked up at the woman who was serving them. Her name hovered in the blonde girl's mind, and she offered up a shy smile, cheeks flushing. "No thank you - I am fine."

Mother Durski nodded her understanding and moved away from the table, Jozua's eyes following her path until she disappeared through a door that she assumed was the way to the kitchen. The restaurant was far warmer than the harshness of the Warsaw weather, so she shrugged off her coat and pulled off the fluffy earmuffs. She caught snippets of conversation from the front of the restaurant, but inconviniently, they were all in the country's native language, and so beyond her understanding.

She removed her gloves and folded them on the seat beside her, and continued to survey the restaurant with eyes now so wide that they could have been side-plates. She had never been out to eat, yet alone in another country. Looking across at Klaus, she noted again his lack of expression, except the focused look in his eyes, as if he was calculating something. He was, she concluded, probably thinking about something which she could not possibly hope to understand, and so she ought not to question him about it.

"Doctor --" she was cut short by a stab of pain, this time in left side, which forced her to clap a hand over it and lean forward to try and quell it. A moment later, it faded, and she straightened up, "Um, I am sorry --"

At that moment, Mother Durski returned with their drinks. Jozua thanked her and took a long, slow sip from the glass, holding it with both slender hands. She peered at Klaus over the top of it, set it down, and glanced at Durski's retreating form. "You know ..." Her cheeks were stained with pink once again as she looked back at Klaus, "nobody has ever told me that I was ...um, 'lovely' before. I think that the people here must be very kind." She pushed stray strands of hair from her face, upon which appeared a diffident smile for him: "Especially you."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus paid the old lady no particular mind as she went for the drinks. Already he pocketed his earmuffs and gloves and removed his coat.

During the silence, Klaus took a spare moment to review in his mind what the Center would be doing. The next two hours were supposed to be devoted to a series of blast tests. One mutant could generate explosive force with as much or little as a snap of his fingers. How he did not mutilate himself by those blasts was a mystery. His skin was no harder to penetrate with a syringe needle than any other he had seen, but somehow he could withstand it.

Klaus looked up at his patient when she called for him and noticed her face twist with pain. He was nearly out of his seat to check on the source when it stopped. He returned to a comfortable posture and thought about what might have caused it. Hopefully it wasn't the Sample.

Klaus had seen what happened to Jozua on the closed-circuit camera. If the Sample reacted badly in a place like this, at the high peak of lunch hour, it could end up a very bad day.

Jozua's cheeks flushed pink and Klaus reached for her temperature when she spoke.

"Ah, yes. Well, you have been sickly. Doctors and medical people like me don't usually notice beauty. We're much too focused on what's wrong with you to see you as a person. Rather, most patients with extreme illnesses like yours are probably seen more like puzzles or mysteries than people."

Klaus leaned forward on the table and took a big drink as he tried to process a suitable response to her last comment.

"I am a professional. High quality care and cutting edge science are what I provide. And here in you I have provided both. I am very proud of you."

As soon as he said it he wished he hadn't. Though he spoke English very fluently--and in fact spent more time speaking and writing in English rather than his native tongue--sometimes he would forget things. He meant to tell Jozua he was proud of the progression of her recovery.

Still, it was not in Klaus' character to back-pedal or fluster. He would stay calm and professional. "Yes. I am very proud."

[Jozua Cure]

Proud? Of me?

She allowed herself to bow her face into the scarf wrapped loosely around her throat to hide her most gleeful smile yet. She hadn't felt happiness such as this for ...well, she couldn't quite remember. Dropping the smile, she looked over at Klaus, murmuring with unusual solemnity: "I will continue to make you proud, doctor."

She took another sip of her drink and squeezed her hands together, her eyes sweeping around the restaurant again. Resting her weight on her elbows, she leaned forward on the table, "Is this not very secretive? Mother Durski was right - I suppose we do look suspicious. We could be plotting anything here, instead of just eating. I think it is exciting."

She drummed her fingers on the table, attention caught as the kitchen door swung open and a meal was carried out to a table near the restaurant entrance. Hot, savoury smells wafted out of the kitchen, and her nose twitched, delighting in these new sensations. Smells of beef and pork and other meats she didn't recognise billowed through the air, delicious and so tempting that her stomach squirmed uncomfortably, demanding to be filled. Thoughts of tearing flesh crept at the corners of her mind --

As the doctor said her name, Jozua flinched, as if waking from a dream. She was on her feet, and several steps away from the table, seemingly heading for the door to the kitchen and the source of the smells. Suddenly anxious, she looked around, and caught sight of a small, decorative mirror hung on the wall closest to her.

What am I doing?

She took a small, cautious step closer, squinting at her reflection. Then, a gasp, a stumble backwards, and shock made her tremble and tightly press her hands together.

My eyes --

Pitch. Inky. Flooded with darkness.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus watched the girl amuse herself. "Yes. The nature of some of my projects require a particular amount of secrecy." He was going to say more, when Jozua was suddenly out of her seat and walking towards the kitchen door.

"Jozua?" Klaus called.

He didn't mind the girl's curiosity, but the kitchen would have to wait until later in the afternoon when Papa Durski was finished handling the lunch hour rush.

She stopped suddenly, caught sight of something on the wall, and recoiled as though she had seen something frightening. The doctor got up from his seat and walked over to her.

"Jozua, you are ok?" he asked turning in the direction she was staring. It was just a mirror. Perhaps she was taken with her own reflection or she saw something behind her that surprised her? "Jozua? Oh."

Her eyes were different. Suddenly pink looking, as thought they were inflamed, it looked like her eye was beginning to dilate at an unusual rate. Klaus guided her back to the tabel and sat her in her chair. Then he reached for his coat and pulled a pen light. He held her eyes open and swept the light across them.

"What is wrong with your eyes?" Klaus muttered to himself. "Very curious. Perhaps an infection from the dog? Jozua, I need you to take a great big breath. As big as you can. Then I need you to let it very slowly. You need to calm down."

[Jozua Cure]

I want it - I want it - I want it --

...What was it that she wanted so desperately right now? Her nails scratched at the table's solid surface, and she tried to focus on the doctor's words. Take in a breath. Breathe in. And out. Breathe

I want --

and out. Slower. Slower.

No. It would not calm. Something was trying to surface, break free and fill its need. She did not need to look at her hands to know that they were becoming marred with black lines, snaking their pattern on her skin. Her hand jerked to the doctor's, grasping it tightly.

I need it.

"Doctor, I --"

Breathe in. Out. Slower. She held his instructions tightly in her mind, and opened her mouth to draw in a breath that filled her chest, trapped and held it for a moment, and parted her lips a fraction to let the free again in a slow trickle. The blackness faded, both from her hands and, from what she could see of her reflection in Klaus' eyes, her irises too, the pupils returning to their regular pin-prick state.

Bowing her head, she slumped back in her seat, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I am sorry. Very sorry, doctor." Her voice quavered as she peeped out from under her wispy hair, "I-I do not know what is wrong with me. But this ...this is similar to - to what happened to me before. P-Please do not be ...be upset with me."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus breathed with her as she tried to control herself. For a few tense moments he watched her eyes and noticed the Sample creeping across the backs of her hands. That was odd. Definitely unexpected. He would have to investigate it.

Klaus reached for his phone and waited to see how Jozua fared. At last she calmed down and the Sample receded into her skin. She sat back at last, unsettled to say the least.

"It's all right," Klaus said. "This is something entirely new. I expected you might encounter some difficulty."

The old woman returned to see Klaus squatting next to Jozua's chair, his eyes concerned. "You are a good man, Doctor Heidegger."

She placed the food on the table. "Now eat. The best thing for pretty young women and handsome young men."

She stood by the table a moment to see how little Jozua reacted to the perogis. Klaus of course took one and ate it in two bites, an unspoken reassuring of her husband's culinary talent.

"Just like Christmas," Klaus said.

The old lady smiled and turned to Jozua. "Here, you are, darling. Try one of each."

The old woman placed four of the little dumplings on the younger one's plate and encouraged her with a warm smile. "Go on. They're best when piping hot straight from the oven."

[Jozua Cure]

Swallowing, the blonde reached out and stroked her fingertips over one of the perogi, then took hold if it with both hands and lifted it to her nose, sniffing gently. A scent similar to that of the kitchen, but diluted. Her tongue briefly licked her upper lip, then, without waiting for approval, she took a larger than average nibble. The cheese oozed out of the open dumpling, and steam rolled from the potato, but it was insignificant to Jozua's sudden squeal of delight.

"Oh, my goodness!" She quickly devoured the perogi in her hands with two successive bites, licking her fingers afterwards. She got to her feet and flung her arms around a surprised Mother Durski, hopping from one foot to another before she broke the embrace, clasping her hands together. "It is delicious! Your chef must be very talented."

Seating herself again, she reached for another, eagerly sinking her teeth into the secretive batter. This time, meat juices rushed over her tastebuds, bringing with it a heat she wasn't expecting. With a startled squeak, she dropped the perogi, which landed with a soft splat on the plate, and pressed the back of her hand to her lips. Klaus offered her the water, and she drank deeply for a few moments, placing the glass down to breathe.

"Umm ..." she blushed her darkest shade yet, and looked up apologetically at Mother Durski, "I burned my mouth. They are very hot, yes?"

The Polish woman chuckled; even though Jozua had burnt her mouth, she was on the perogi again, chewing it briefly before swallowing. This time, she wiped her fingers on a napkin, and gleefully looked over at Klaus. "Doctor, you made a very good choice. These are wonderful!"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

The old woman reacted with surprise when Jozua jumped up and hugged her tightly. The old woman laughed and returned the hug with similar enthusiasm.

"I'll be sure to let Papa know someone loves his cooking almost as much as I do." She patted her belly. "It's good that Papa doesn't mind loving a fat old lady like me." She giggled and kissed the little girl on the head. "You eat all you like."

Klaus took another perogi, passing over the idea that Jozua might eat them all faster than he could get them. "Yes, Jozua, they do tend to be very hot."

The appearance of the Sample back on her skin still hung in his mind. Of course he had seen the closed circuit camera depicting what had happened. He had hoped it was only her body's way of coping to the new material. It should have bonded permanently with her and become inert: clearly it was not the case.

But for now, it seemed that hunger had been all that was the matter and that need was being filled. Mother Durski flitted away to help another table, leaving the two to eat in silence.

And hour later the two had polished off a few more plates of perogis--a record, Klaus found out. Papa Durski came out of the kitchen for a few minutes to shake Klaus hand and see the new girl who so dearly loved his cooking.

"Oh, Mama, she is an angel." The corpulent man took Jozua's hand and pulled her out of her seat and into his big arms. "You can come whenever you like and eat all the perogis you want, on the house."

He smiled at the girl and patted her cheek. Then he bent down and whisered something in Klaus ear. The scientist's expression made no change, but he managed to give the old fat man a quick reply in Polish.

Mama shooed Papa back into the kitchen as a new batch of customers arrived. "Klaus, why not take her to the plaza? There is ice skating there. I'm sure our little butterfly would love that."

Klaus had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Pet names and terms of endearment were not his favorite and encouraged attachment. Jozua's future was bound to keep her at the Center longer than even she liked, despite her apparently strong but swift attachment to Klaus.

"We will see," he said.

Klaus paid for the bill and tipped generously, despite Mama's protest that the meal be a gift to Jozua for her first day out of the hospital. But at last Mama relented, patting her "little Klaus" on the cheek.

"Always the professional." Then she turned to Jozua. "Do try to lighten him up dear." Then it was her turn to whisper in Klaus' ear. The old woman was also slightly deaf, so the whisper was just above the unaudible range for most people in the noisy restaurant. "How do you expect to find a good wife to take care of you? Relax!"

Klaus returned her comment again in Polish. Then he turned to his patient. "Let's go see the ice skating, Jozua."

[Jozua Cure]

The blonde girl beamed, "Yes!"

She did not, however, choose to follow Klaus immediately as he turned and headed towards the door; instead, she bounced into Mother Durski's arms again, giving a little sigh of contentment as the older woman matched the fondness of her embrace. "Vele dank -- thank you, mama."

Moments later she was out of the door, pulling up her hood to block out the chilly air and hopping into step next to Klaus. Stretching her amrs up into the air, a satisfied grin played upon her features as she felt the fullness of her stomach beneath her coat. "Thank you, doctor. That was ...full of experiences. I do not think I have ever done any of those things. Do you think we could go again sometime - maybe next week? Oh, if not to eat, just to see Mama and Papa again!" She relaxed into a more regular gait, despite having to keep up with Klaus' longer strides, "They care for you, and to me they are everything -- um, what I mean to say is ..." She stammered a few wordless syllables, before regaining her composure, "They seem to be everything somebody could ever want in parents." A giggle. "Do you think they would adopt me?"

Klaus gave her a look - of what, she wasn't quite sure - and she continued hurriedly, "No. I suppose I am too old. And, my home is Jericho now."

There was a somewhat awkward pause, but the question niggling at Jozua's mind found its escape, "Doctor ...Klaus -- do you ...ever ...ever miss your parents?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus walked along the sidewalk, his mind furiously trying to put out Mama and Papa's words and focus back on his work. He had no time for their life lessons. He had science to do.

He reigned himself back in with Jozua's words. The girl seemed to understand to some extent that she would be staying quite a while at Jericho. That gave him some cause for relief because it meant that he would not have to convince her to stay inside the center.

Then she asked him about his parents. "My parents?" He gave consideration over his next words. "I miss my parents about as much as they miss me."

He left it at that. She could let her imagination do whatever it wanted with that.

They turned a corner and soon the plaza was before them. The sun reflected off of a wide portion of the plaza. The ice rink was there. Klaus walked up to the person renting skates.

"I need two pairs of skates please."

While Klaus went for his money, he asked Jozua to give the woman behind the counter her shoe size. He gave her his as well and they had two pairs of skates.

"Take off your boots and leave them with the lady here at the counter when you've put your skates on. Lace them up good and tight."

Klaus suited action to words and put his skates on. He stood and walked the few steps to the counter and gave the woman his shoes. He stood with good balance at the edge of the ice patch, leaning on the wall while Jozua took care of her boots.

[Jozua Cure]

"Wh-what? I-I cannot do this ...!" Jozua's face burned with embarassment as she held the skates in her arms, careful not to cut herself on the blades, "I-I mean, I have never skated before, and I ...well, I have watched people skating but I could not ..." She trailed off, bowing her head, "I have always been too ill, doctor. You know that."

She flinched as a confident voice spoke beside her, "Are you having trouble? Do you want help?"

Beside her was a woman who could be no older than Jozua herself, and her clothing matched that of the lady who had given them the skates. She smiled kindly, and took the skates from Jozua's arms. "First time skating? That's all right."

She coaxed the anxious Dutch girl onto a seat, and then swiftly, skilfully exchanged the rose fur lined boots for the skates, lacing them up with deft fingers. Jozua trembled as she was pulled to her feet, standing uncertainly on the blades. The attendant helped her totter towards the ice, where she slid out a foot from the edge of the rink, holding her arms out for balance. She called at tentative thanks over her shoulder, then returned her attention to skating.

I could fall any time.

The thought played wickedly on her mind as she stood as still as she could, trying to work out the best way to balance. How had the skaters in America done it? She had seen plenty of people fall, but also plenty of people with little experience - easily identified by their reluctance to go on the ice - skate with reasonably competence. They seemed to glide across the ice, pushing off with each leg in turn to gain speed. Maybe she should try that?

But, I really do not want to fall.

She drew in a deep breath. I need to be grateful for this opportunity. My doctor has been very kind to me; it would be rude to not try, at least. Looking around, she spied an edge of the rink, and made her decision. Turning somewhat awkwardly towards it, she focused on the memories of the skaters in America, and pushed against the ice. The momentum was more than she expected; she leaned forward, wobbled, leaned back so she was up straight, wobbled, and pushed with the opposite leg (wobbled), taking care to make sure that she made some forward progression.

Moments later, her hands clasped around the edge of the rink, and a feeling of exhiliaration filled her. "I did it!"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus allowed the rink operator to help Jozua into the skates and show her out to the ice. Klaus feel in step behind them, keeping out of Jozua's line of sight. He wanted to see how she did and if the Sample reacted to her situation of distress.

Then she skated in a single line to the far edge of the ice and grasped the wall. The baby sparrow was learning to fly. Klaus glided easily over to where Jozua stood, clutching the wall, but smiling at her accomplishment.

"That was very good," he said to her. "Come stand before me. Let go of the wall. Klaus stood with his hands folded in front of him. "Keep your back straight and your feet a good distance apart."

Klaus motioned to the skates. "When you move, shift your weight so that it's over your forward foot. Then push with the other. When you turn, shift your weight to the side you want to turn."

Klaus backed away a pace or two. "Now, come to me."

It was one of the more obnoxious memories Klaus retained from his childhood. His father and mother teaching him how to ice skate and keeping far enough away from him that unsure feet and tentative progress kept him from quite reaching them. It frustrated him when he was younger--that lack of control and helplessness. Now he was in control of everything that touched his life. And he was stronger for it.

He needed to see how Jozua reacted. She advanced towards him and he backed away. "Just look at me. Don't focus on anything else and come to me."

[Jozua Cure]

The praise brought a shot of pink to Jozua's cheeks and although she was eager to please, she was still careful about putting Klaus' instructions into action. She advanced with two slow steps towards the doctor, arms out in a shaky crucifix as she attempted to keep up with him. As she moved closer, he glided easily away, just a little further.

"This is how my parents taught my youngest brother how to walk." Another step, pushing off a with a little more force this time. "When I was younger, they brought him to the hospital and practised with him like this."

They were always there to catch him if he fell, though. Jozua fixed her eyes on Klaus, shaking her head a little to try and get some hair out of her face, Will he catch me, too?

Step, push, glide. The weight transfer was becoming easier with each minute, and with growing confidence Jozua picked up a little more speed, arms gradually falling from their rigidness out at either side. A smile played across her lips, but it was cut short by a quick, short trip that sent Jozua down onto the ice with a sharp thump. She lay for a moment, stunned by the impact, and then pain crept at her knees, elbows, hands and face. Getting to her knees, she pulled off a glove and felt at her face, which was stinging. Prodding her chin, she pulled her fingers away to find them speckled with red.

A graze? Oh, dear.

More pain; a stab at her right side which made her gasp, but it soon receded and allowed her to focus on Klaus, who had skated up to her. "I am all right, doctor. I am not very hurt."

She lifted her hand to rub at her chin to stop the bleeding, but more was the surprise when her fingers touched not on broken skin, but smooth, intact flesh instead. She glanced up at Klaus with a bemused look, and then back at her hand. The blood was still there, dotted in a small patch, however the reappearance of the dark lines gave her cause to switch from confusion to worry.

What? Again? What is this?

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus picked her up with fair ease. He did not exercise, but his job put him in the way of people and machinery that needed to be moved from time to time. Though Jozua already was starting to gain weight and come to a healthier body mass, the doctor found her very easy to pick up.

"Let me look at your chin," he said.

He guided her back to the side of the skating patch and moved her face to look at her chin. It was completely healed. he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from her hand and face.

"It would seem," he said at last, "that the Sample has accelerated your ability to heal yourself naturally."

Klaus smirked. This was an unexpected development. He would have to investigate. But for now he would have to take an educated guess.

"I believe the Sample replicated at an unusually fast pace. Almost like an anti-cancer that replaces the damaged cells in your body with new ones. It would explain why the Sample appears on your skin when you feel pain."

Klaus took Jozua's hand and held it up in the sunlight so he could take a better look. Already her hand was turning back to it's usual pale tone.

"You must not be afraid of the Sample, Jozua. It responds to your body just like everything else. If you are afraid and panicked, it will respond to endorphins and adrenaline just like everything else. This is a part of you that you will have to learn to accept--possibly enjoy."

Satisfied that she was fine he released her. "Now, let's get back to ice skating."

[Jozua Cure]

"I will try." Pushing off against the side of the rink, Jozua followed Klaus back out onto the ice with more certainty than before. "Doctor --" a playful smile was on her face as he turned to face her, "Really, I have nothing to fear if I cannot be hurt for long." She skated up beside him, holding his arm to make herself static. "So, there is no reason why I should not try to become good at this, yes?"

Her smile was replaced by a focused look, and with strengthened determination she pushed herself away from Klaus, wobbling slightly before she shifted her weight and used the opposite leg. Slowly but surely, she made her way across the rink, not looking to see if he was following at any distance, more focused on reaching the barrier at the other side. She reached out towards it with gloved hands, caught hold of it, and pivoted, the blades of her skates scratching against the ice.

She wasn't quite sure how long she spent skating up and down, but thanked Klaus for his patience and his teaching as he further divulged how to turn, and she practiced on taking slow, wide corners around the rink. Once or two, her balance evaded her, but she didn't fall, once due to Klaus catching her before she hit the ice, and the second because she found her balance and continued to skate. Another discovery made itself apparent; if she skated faster, she felt more stable. Stopping, however, was another matter.

On another gentle curcuit of the rink, Jozua flinched as someone with fair speed shot across in front of her. She clutched at the nearest barrier, looking over her shoulder at the person who had almost clipped her, to find him standing still only a few feet away, hands on his hips. He spoke a few words of the native language, which of course, Jozua had no understanding of, but the cocky beckoning of his hand and the slowness with which he skated away from her communicated his meaning more clearly than if he had broadcast it on a billboard.

Hey, newbie. Bet you can't catch me.

Leaning up against the barrier, Jozua blew out a stream of white mist from her lips, frowning as a feeling most unusual tugged at her. One of annoyance, a feeling of pride in her newfound skills hurt by his supercilious manner.

I could catch him if I wanted to.

A feeling to rise to the challenge, to compete - and win. Licking her lips, Jozua pulled down her hood, and set off in pursuit, lowering her body a little as she skated her fastest yet. The young man who had taunted her caught sight, and shot her a smile that dripped with arrogance. Had she caught sight of herself, she might have been persuaded to stop by the ebony lines creeping slowly up her neck. Of course, she was not able to see her reflection, and continued to chase, eyes narrowing to lock on to her quarry.

He turned sharply, somehow she matched it, and as he began to weave between other skaters she cut a wider line, zipping around the outside of the group to meet him on the other side. She wanted to leap at him, however she didn't get her chance as he was suddenly sent flying, shooting along the ice and crashing into the nearest barrier. Jozua skidded to a stop, hands flying to her mouth. What had she been thinking?

She glanced back the ice, to the spot where he had lost control. Her eyes fixed on a pebble. She skated to it, crouched down to survey it, then picked it up and threw it clear of the rink. For the first time that day, there were no thoughts of her doctor as she headed towards the boy she had been chasing. He was sat up, but there was redness on his cheek and jaw, and as Jozua approached he scowled.

"My apologies - are you all r --" She was cut short as the boy hauled himself to his feet, pushing past the attendants to get to her. He growled something in his native Polish, the malice of which made Jozua's eyes tear up with fear. She spluttered, trying to communicate but failing to breach the language barrier. Partially, at least, it was her fault, but she couldn't show him that she was sorry. Sliding back, she bunched her hands close to her chest, head bowing as she squeezed her eyes shut and hoped that her doctor would come for her.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

And indeed he did. Klaus moved between the Polish boy and his charge, arms folded over his chest and looking very grave. It was an expression he had used on several people over the years. It was one that said, "I am in charge. When I tell you to move, you will do what I say."

The Polish boy continued his tirade--none of it decent for public ears. Klaus waited until he was done and returned with a short phrase. Go Home.

The other person flustered for a second, but decided that messing with this man was not worth his trouble. He stood, dusted himself off and moved towards the place to return his skates with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Jozua, I am impressed at how well your skating has improved. Do not mind that boy. He is petty and wanted to make sport of you because he enjoys belittling women."

Klaus turned to face her. He noticed the Sample on her neck but decided not to mention it. No doubt it would have also shown up on the rest of her body. The Sample could enhance her physical capability as well. Interesting.

"Would you like to skate some more, or shall we go do something else?"

[Jozua Cure]

My doctor ...he saved me ...again.

"I am sorry." Jozua bowed her head, feeling worthy of scolding despite Klaus' reassurance. "I did not mean to cause any trouble."

She took a moment to consider his offer, and a quick glance around at the number of people taking an interest in them - not least because of the boy's temper - quickly aided her decision. She reached out, curled her fingers around Klaus', and watched him with worried eyes.

"Please may we go somewhere else?"

She was relieved as he guided her back to the counter, and they swapped their skates back for boots. Once they had walked so far that a street separated them from the ice rink, Jozua hopped to a stop, looking up at the buildings surrounding them. The sky was bright and crisp, and she filled her lungs with cold air before blowing out the mist which gave her so much delight.

"Doctor, can I go up somewhere high? I want to see the city."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

No building in the city was taller than Jericho. Klaus made it that way on purpose so that helicopters dropping off mutants would have no one to view them from the building tops. Only other aircraft flying by would be able to see, and Klaus' security measures made sure that no aircraft ever got close enough to see what happened. But roof access was restricted and required moving past several floors of retaining cells.

Klaus looked around, trying to remember where the tourist trap for seeing the whole city was. He rubbed at his chin while he considered it. Then he noticed the tourists. All of them with their heads looking towards the sky. One of them pointed to a large building and the small group moved towards it. They would go there.

"Follow me, Jozua," Klaus said, beckoning with his hand.

The two of them went off to the building. Klaus paid for the two of them to visit the building, passed through security and waited in line for the elevator to take them to the roof. During the time he stood checking his cell phone and PDA for updates from Jericho. All projects were going well and there were even a few new arrivals for Klaus. That was very promising.

Before he knew what was happening, he stepped into the elevator with Jozua. The place was crammed full of people so much that no one could put even a centimeter of space between them and everyone else. Of course, being the last ones in, he and Jozua were presed against the doors and extraordinarily close to one another. Klaus stood over the petite girl, looking down at her and trying his best to shift himself so he could put his devices away.

He said nothing the whole time and counted away the seconds as the elevator ascended. Three full minutes later they burst out of the elevator and into an enclosed viewing area. Outside were coin operated binoculars. In the distance, the Jericho Center towered over the city.

Klaus smirked and straightened with pride at his facility. "There it is. My wonder."

He stepped outside to get a better view and fished some coins out of his pocket. These he handed to his charge for her to use the binoculars if she wanted.

[Jozua Cure]

Jozua had been in elevators before; quite a few times, actually, when she had been transferred from ward to ward for different forms of therapy and treatment. The hospital elevators had never been packed full of so many people before, but it didn't unnerve her. She twisted around to try and get a glimpse of their names, spotting some non-Polish also - tourists from other countries, she presumed - and then scurried out of the elevator, eagerly following Klaus to the edge of viewing area. He drew her attention to Jericho, and she smiled, somewhat wistfully. Grabbing at the shiny, but icy cold metal barriers, she rested her elbows on them, pulling herself up so she leaned over it a little. Interestingly to her, the barriers were only a few feet high, but that was probably to ensure that small children, with their lack of concept for danger, didn't fall off by accident.

"Jericho is higher." She observed evenly, using a hand to pull down her hood, and letting the wind whistle through her fair hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the air playing on her features. Klaus placed the bincoulars into her hands, with a gleeful smile she thanked him, and pressed them to her eyes, perhaps a little too hard. She swept her enhanced vision across the city, picking out individual people on the ground whose name flickered in and out of her understanding, and then as far to the edge of the city as she could see.

Jozua had been in an elevator, but she had never had the chance to use binoculars before. Her mouth fell open in an 'o' as she spent several minutes studying everything she could see; shops, office buildings, Jericho, the ice rink, and all the people dotted about like insects on the ground below.

A bird flew low overhead, settling on the rail of the barrier a few feet away from where Jozua stood. Slowly lowering the binoculars, she set them on their stand and quietly pulled off her coat, folding it over the rail. The bird watched her with beady eyes, quick and sharp movements of its head taking in its surroundings, searching for danger. Jozua edged closer to it, her hands low, knees bent, rising onto her toes to lighten her step. The tip of her tongue slowly traced her upper lip, and cautiously she moved closer. A reflection played on the barriers, one unseen by Jozua herself, but one that showed the dilation of her pupil until it consumed her iris, leaving only the whites of her eyes untainted. Another step. The bird hopped a little closer, lifting its feathered wings, which were immediately ruffled by the air current.

A murmur fell from her lips, "Come here, birdy."

The bird transfixed her with one little eye, blinked with its lower lid, and took off, sweeping out towards the city. Jozua leapt, arm shooting for what was already beyond her reach, and with a small, frustrated growl she watched it flutter further away. As screams nearby met her ears, a feeling of dread suddenly filled her, and she glanced down to see several storeys of air between her and the ground.

The park came into view and she started towards it with a zealous squeal, bouncing up onto the seat just inside its enclosing barriers, spreading her arms wide in the air as she peered up at the white sky.

It made her eyes water, so she squeezed them closed and let the liquid run over her cheeks. A smile of liberation played across her features, and as she heard the doctor approach, she took in a deep breath of chilled air, opening her eyes and releasing her breath in a stream of mist from between softly parted lips. "...Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?" More mist. "I used to look out of the window and watch the birds, and admire them. Envy them, even. I wonder if I could do it now?"

She fell, plummeting towards the ground at a rate she hadn't known existed, fear lancing through her like electricity, a small scream loosing from her throat. One day of being well, only to die at the end of it - fate had a cruel way of turning things around.

"Fly."

The dark, bough-like appendages tore from her back, painlessly this time despite the spurt of blood that accompanied them. They were huge, and widened out before matching their wing-like appearance with purpose, ploughing through the air in a powerful down-stroke to slow her descent. She lifted her body, altering her course away from both ground and building, trembling with exhiliaration as another down-stroke sent her giddily into the city. She swooped, narrowly avoiding another building before turning her course vertically, and demanding another push from the wings. They responded immediately, sending her rocketing upwards towards the white sky on a more-than-shaky course for up.

Once there, she swivelled her vision, far enough away to be blissfully oblivious to the surprise and horror of people below. Jericho was the tallest building, the easiest to see, and the one she knew best, despite being confined in her room. She should head there.

She fought to lift her body, but back muscles not used to giving her the support needed to flight strained against her will. A wing-beat sent her forward, swinging madly through the air, and the strokes that followed made her flight path match that of a clock pendulum. Jericho. Jericho. Jericho.

I can --

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus watched Jozua take off her coat and stalk towards the bird.

"Jozua, please put your coat back on. It's colder here than it is on the ground."

She apparently did not hear him. She jumped at the bird. Klaus jumped at Jozua. Jozua went over the rail. Klaus slammed into it.

He found his phone and got in touch with the man leading his security force in the field operation. "Prepare for clean up on the ground."

He didn't have to give his location. They knew where he was at all times. Then suddenly, Jozua appeared again over the top of the building. She had grown wings and was struggling to fly. She looked like a baby bird.

Klaus was not pleased. Cries of "Mutant" surrounded him and the people watched Jozua with disgust, awe, and grudging jealousy. What was the girl thinking? He had planned to perform all these tests later, in a controlled environment. The girl was pushing her luck.

"Nevermind. Pick me up and we'll follow her by helicopter."

Soon Klaus' ride appeared out of the sky and hovered by the rail. People backed away to get away from the wind whipped up by the rotors and Klaus got in over the rail with the help of one of his security staff.

"Follow her. She's heading to Jericho, which is lucky for us. If she shows signs of tiring or if her wings fail her, launch the net to get her. We'll bring her in by way of the helipad."

He would have some sharp words for her when she got back to the Center.

[Jozua Cure]

She was dipping and swaying worse than the patients pumped full of morphine at her American hospital, and the effort was snatching the air from her lungs faster than she could fill them. Fatigue snared every inch of her body, limbs drooping with fast spreading tiredness. Before long, the rapid thudding of helicopter blades filled her ears, bringing with it a sense of panic. Her doctor had previously vanished from her thoughts, but now she considered him, and anxiety joined the milieu of other feelings.

How best to avoid the helicopter that was pursuing her? Snapping her wings together above her head, she dropped suddenly, surveying the building which rushed up at her with frightening speed. Her wings curled before her body, clutching at the corner of the building before she hit it, and she clung there like some kind of monstrous insect.

Will they shoot me down?

The thought entered her mind and she convinced herself of it instantly, a newfound strength surging through her frail body as she leapt away from the harsh concrete, wings ploughing through the air as she swept up towards the aircraft. The predatory instinct that had, until now, blended with her own personality without her notice, showed her how to judge, when to stop flying and how to lurch forward to grab the chopper's ski-like landing gear. The ends of the wings deformed, becoming faintly reminiscient of claw-like hands, and seized the skis with a sharp pang of organic material on metal. Jozua's own frails hands and legs wrapped around a single ski, her eyes forced closed by the air buffeting madly around her, and it was there that she paused, at a loss for what to do next.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Jozua grabbed the helicopter. Klaus, who had been standing by the open hatchway, affixed one of the safety harnesses to himself and clipped one end of the tether to a hook by the doorway.

Klaus made sure the two in the back of the helicopter understood that they were to pull him in with Jozua, he clambered out and onto the helicopter's landing gear. He eased his way out to Jozua and took hold of her in his arms. He held her tightly and let go of the flying machine, swinging freely from the safety tether. Then the others pulled them in.

Klaus set Jozua down on one of the passenger seats and removed the harness. Then he stood just inside the cockpit, watching the Jericho landing pad grow in the windshield.

Once they were set down and the helicopter shut off, Klaus informed his security team to abandon their positions in the city and return to the Center. He immdiately started inside after that, paying Jozua no mind.

He needed to calm down before he spoke to her. Punishing her out of anger would do her no good.

[Jozua Cure]

She had been held in the arms of so many people that day; it was overwhelming. As her doctor reached out for her, she smelt his touch before she felt it, and slowly, the external darkness of the 'sample' retreated back into her body, devolving into its smaller state before disappearing altogether. Clasped firmly against him, Jozua curled her fingers into his clothing, burying her head into his collar bone. She made a noise in her throat as he deposited her in a seat, weakly stretching out a hand in a voiceless plea for him not to leave her. She needed her doctor; not all was right with her.

She let her head loll back, passively waiting out the rest of the journey. Once or twice, her side twanged with pain - why was it doing that? Her eyelids flickered; something in her mind was warning her. Not all was right. Not the Sample that shared her body, not that. It had helped her. Something else, something ...

Her eyelids grew heavier and her frame slumped further into the seat the more she tried to work it out. The confusion, the desperate need to survive ...it melted away in those minutes, and as the helicopter made its landing, exhaustion gripped her with strong hands, pulling her deep into the abyss-like unconsciousness of sleep.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus busied himself with the projects he missed throughout the day. Going from one cell to the next, making sure the mutant subjects were medically and mentally fine.

Most of them hated him for the work he did with them. Most of it was not much more than most experimental treatments and investigations that many normal people agreed to on their own.

Some of them were brought in against their will. Others were brought to him under the same impression Jozua was: that he would cure them or help them with their mutancy in some way. When they found out about Klaus' so-called cures thus far, they often wanted to leave. Of course, after being in the center for so long, most of them missed their families.

He wondered how long it would take little Jozua to change her opinion of him and the facility he ran.

Klaus went down to the lowest level of the basement to view a mutant who generated nuclear energy. The poor man's body was a super-efficient nuclear power plant. He had little need to eat or sleep or even drink water. Yet, he could not be released. Several feet of concrete separated him from all humanity. The radiation he generated killed every soul in fifteen miles of him when his powers manifested. And now Klaus used him to generate his facility's power, and would until the mutant died on his own some time in the future.

He looked at his phone. One of the helicopter crew left him a message some time ago informing him that Jozua had fallen asleep in the aircraft and was moved to her hospital room. Klaus appreciated the initiative.

Then there was a call from his secretary. Jozua's parents were in the lobby to see their daughter's progress. Klaus took the elevator to the appropriate floor and opened the door to his most recent patient's room. She was asleep, still in her clothes. Her shirt was ripped from where the winglike appendages had grown out of her shoulders. Fortunately (or unfortunately) the secretary had bought Jozua two sets of clothes.

He woke her and told her to change her shirt. Her parents were wanting to see her.

"What a surprise it will be for them when you come walking out of the elevator."

[Jozua Cure]

A hand shaking her shoulder pulled her up to the surface of her dreams, and Jozua's tired eyes cracked open a fraction to see her doctor leaning over her. She smiled softly as his features came into greater focus, and breathed her words just as gently, "I flew."

Klaus' news of her parents had her sitting bolt upright, eyes wide a hand clasped tightly at her chest to try and contain the shock. "What? Really? They want to see me?"

It is because I am well, now. They have come to take me back!

With an ease brought on by her sudden excitement, Jozua bounced down from her bed, and without any inhibitions pulled her shirt over her head and wriggled her arms out of the sleeves. The spare shirt was folded on the shelf next to it, and she bounded to it, slipping it over her slender frame and buttoning it as fast as her fingers could manage. Side-stepping to the mirror, she ran her fingers through her fine hair, trying to fluff it a little in order to thwart its straightness. Resting her hands on the cool ceramic of the basin, she leaned forward to better inspect her reflection.

I believe I am prettier - healthier. Maybe now I can make them proud of me.

Turning, she crossed the room to Klaus and without warning rose up onto the tips of her toes, arms snaking around his shoulders and drawing him in close. With her forehead pressed into his neck, Jozua was able to hide her tranquil smile. "Thank you, Doctor Klaus Heidegger. Thank you."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus took her by the shoulders and pulled her away from him. "It was my duty to cure you."

He looked her in the face. She was happy again, and excited about her parents. But before he took her down to them, he decided he had to offer her his rebuke.

"Jozua, I am not impressed with your behavior at the tower. I do not know what you were thinking, but you put yourself at serious risk. What good does it do to me to cure you when you are going to do things to get yourself killed? It makes my time and effort equivocate to nothing. I am not pleased."

He looked at her with a grave look that was almost a glower. "Now, you will curb your excitement when you see your parents. Apparently high-energy situations bring the Sample to the fore. If you forget yourself, they will see. I am not sure how they will react."

Jozua did not know what the people of the tower did when they reacted. The combination of disgust, hatred, and fear that marked their faces were the summation of the motivating force behind most of Klaus' work.

"Do you understand me? We will work on your flying in the future. You will still be here for weeks more as I study the Sample and you more closely. We will work on your flying in a low-altitude, controlled environment. One where I won't have to deal with seeing my hard work squandered."

He paused a moment to gauge her reaction. Then at last he opened the door for her. "Come along. It is time tosee your parents."

[Jozua Cure]

For a brief moment, Jozua's lower lip trembled, and she tried to hide it by bowing her head. Now she thought of it, she had not been very well behaved all day, and it was made worse by the fact that the doctor had left his busy schedule at the center to accompany her. But, she had tried. As for jumping from the building ...

I do not know. I suppose I was not thinking. I ...I cannot really remember.

Klaus swung open the door, and Jozua was out of it as quickly as possible. How could she not be excited? Her parents had stopped visiting at the hospital some time before she left for Poland, however their assent had been required for her to make the trip in the first place. Now that she was well, she could make them happy. Of course, she had promised to stay in the Jericho center for a while so that the doctor could run his tests, but after that ...

If she learned to control the sample inside her body, then she could move safely around other people. Without all the answers, however, it would be dangerous, especially if she couldn't remember important things like jumping off of buildings very clearly.

The loud ping of the elevator bell jerked her out of her thoughts. Were they in it already?

The doors slid away from one another, and with surprise Jozua realised that she hadn't even registered getting into the elevator, and that the doors revealed the lobby area that she had left from earlier that day - it seemed such a long time ago now - and the two people she had wished for. They stood close together, observing the lobby with a quiet nervousness, but their attention was sharply, suddenly fixated when the slender girl and her doctor emerged from the elevator. Jozua swallowed, her anxiety creeping through her as she stared straight back at her parents. She recognised her mother easily; Viona and Jozua shared the same thin fair hair, although Viona had hers cut in a youthful, layered style that framed her normally cheerful face. Her father, on the other hand, had grown something of a moustache and his spiky, dark hair was greyer than Jozua remembered. In his arms he held a child that, when grumbling, made noises that echoed around the lobby.

The painful silence that existed between them nearly made Jozua's knees buckle, however her mother answered her silent pleas with a cry, running the several steps that parted them to clamp her arms around her child, squeezing so tightly Jozua thought she might burst. She returned the ferocity of the embrace, fighting hard to hold back tears as her mother rapdily dampened Jozua's hair with her own.

"My baby! My Jozua, oh --" Stepping back for a moment, Viona held Jozua's shoulders in her hands, surveying her, "You're beautiful."

"Mama --" Jozua wasn't given a chance to speak further as Viona smothered her in another hug. Peering over her mother's shoulder, Jozua regarded her father with some bemusement. Was he not happy, too?

Viona seemed to be holding on to her child for as long as she possibly could. However, she broke the embrace after a few minutes and wrapped her arm around Jozua's skinny middle, guiding her towards her father. He regarded her with a hard look, which Jozua didn't know what to make of. "Papa, what is the matter?"

Suspiciously, Ruben's eyes flickered to the doctor that stood some feet away, then returned his gaze to his child and spoke several words of their mother-tongue, presumably, Jozua thought, because he was certain that Klaus didn't speak Dutch. His words stung; they had been informed that she possessed an X-gene, and that her cure was unconventional, however he was having a had time believing it. Viona protectively pulled Jozua closer to her, "You should be ashamed, Ruben Cure. This is our daughter!"

He spoke another linguistically encrypted stream, before Viona cut him short, "Ruben, please. This is rude."

He means to say that I am not acceptable. The thought swam in Jozua's mind, before being swiftly replaced by another: He does not want me.

Trying to divert his attention, Jozua pointed to the baby in his arms. It was dressed in dungarees and a blue woollen jumper, complete with a matching bobble hat. "Is he my brother?"

Viona smiled, obviously pleased to divulge, "No, darling. Your sister Gisela had her baby six months ago."

At this, Jozua couldn't help but give an elated smile, "Gisela? I knew she was pregnant, but --" She stopped, focusing her thoughts. She had not been told of the birth, but then, Gisela would no doubt have been very busy, and by that time, it seemed as though they had given up on her ever living normally ... "Has she married an American man?"

"She will do soon." Ruben said firmly, a trace of disgust in his voice. Viona patted Jozua's arm reassuringly.

"She wanted to lose some weight before the wedding; what with the pregnancy and getting married, she thought it would be too stressful. Do you want to hold him?"

The question lingered in the air. Jozua had never held a baby, but the child was her own nephew, and she had no idea of when she might see him again. Stretching out her arms, she noted her father's reluctance to hand the baby over, but Viona coaxed him from Ruben's arms and, with careful instruction, lay him in Jozua's own. "That's it, sweetheart. Mind his head -- there you are."

Again, it was difficult for Jozua to fight back tears. She cradled the tiny boy, looking down at him with a fondness she had never felt. "He is beautiful."

Viona beamed. "You're a natural, darling." Her next words, regardless of the enthusiasm that filled them, were drowned into silence as Jozua saw, for the first time, the child's name. Like a tag above his head, in clear lettering, she saw it, and didn't know how to react.

... Joshua.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus stood by. He didn't say a word. For now they were busy being a family. It would complicate things if they decided they wanted their daughter back. Luckily for him he could keep her for several more weeks and during the time could find some way to keep her longer.

Klaus understood her father perfectly. Every word was a bitter, angry sting on Jozua and it showed. The words stung Klaus too, but only because it was clear that the man had no interest in Klaus' work and deigned to think the doctor could not cure something like hereditary leukemia.

Klaus dusted off his lab coat. This would continue for an hour or so, and then he would break it up and send them on their way.

[Jozua Cure]

"And darling, Petrus hopes to be a doctor; he's been studying for three years now, and the signs are good. He's doing very well." Viona, completely absorbed in reciting the somewhat rehearsed speech of her children's achievements, initially didn't notice Jozua freeze as she looked at the child, "And Hilda hasn't grown out of her love of horses - in fact, she's been competing on behalf of the riding school, and she's won some gorgeous rosettes - oh, there's so much you've missed out on! But that's not your fault, sweetheart, you've not been well ...Jozua, is everything all right?"

In the awkward silence that ensued, Jozua was well aware of her parent's eyes on her, even though she had her own transfixed on the child in her arms. More long moments of absolute quiet reigned between them before Jozua lifted head, her face solemn.

"Joshua."

Ruben's eye twitched, and he spoke slowly, "What did you say?"

Jozua looked down at the child again, but could not hate him. The name was still there, hovering above his head. "His name is Joshua."

"My God," With that, Ruben grabbed at Viona's arm and pulled her to him, taking a step back. "We were told that you could ...could ...do - this - but I didn't want to believe it. We didn't."

"Papa, I only see names --"

Ruben's tone grew more accusatory, "Can you choose when to see them?"

"No."

"Then, it's an invasion of privacy."

Trying to bring some calm into the situation, Viona spoke soothingly, fixing her daughter with a sympathetic gaze, "How long have you been able to do this?"

Jozua's voice was level, "Since I was seventeen."

Suddenly, something about Ruben changed. His features shifted, but to what Jozua couldn't work out. He held out his hands, beckoning her slightly, "Give me my grandson."

In her arms, Joshua started to grumble. Eyes welling up with tears, Jozua stepped gingerly towards her father, planting a soft kiss on the child's head before handing him back. Ruben bundled the baby into Viona's arms, and went forward to meet Jozua, staring down at her.

"And what of this cure?" His face hardened, but there was something in his eyes that Jozua was captured by. "Did your quack doctor really get rid of the cancer? I beg to differ."

"Ruben, please." Viona's voice was trembling, as though she was about to cry. Jozua wiped the warm tears at had settled on her lower eyelids with the back of her hand, and winced as the pain that had been plaguing her for most of the day flared again at her side. Ruben looked over the top of her head, staring hard at Klaus.

"This is not Jozua. My child is dead."

Before him, Jozua crashed to her knees, her anguished whimpers matching that of Viona's, who held her grandson close to her, rocking away his complaints. Ruben cast a look that was a mixture of disdain and regret at the blonde girl, who had buried her face into her hands. She looked up at him, eyes filled with desperation, "Please, papa. Don't leave me."

As he looked down at her, his expression suddenly changed, and this time, Jozua knew exactly what it was. Fear. Fear for the black veins that were snaking over the exposed skin on her hands and neck, for the solid blackess that she knew her eyes were becoming. And, before she could think, her wings burst free like sharks on an attack at the ocean's surface, and her side exploded with pain.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus did not radio security. This man would handle his own situation and then he would have Jozua for as long as he wanted for as much study as he could get out of her.

"See the cure I bestowed on your daughter," Klaus said, voice edging with anger. "Apart from the mutant gene she inherited from you--"the man looked shocked. "Yes, it does come from the father. She also inherited--again, from you--the genetic predisposition for leukemia. Your faulty genes made her sick and made her a mutant. And now I have cured her. I generated a tissue sample that replaced your bad genes with better genes. And now she has become more though my science than she ever could from your blood. Now deal with your inadequacies. And never ever call me a quack doctor."

The secretary dove under her desk in fear of Jozua's reprisal upon her father. Klaus stood where he was. Security would see the closed circuit cameras soon and be on their way. He didn't have to call them. As for Klaus, himself he stayed where he was. Her father's blundering could only push Jozua more solidly to him and he feared no collateral damage from her.

[Jozua Cure]

Through pain and her father's harsh words, Jozua was entrenched in an emotional storm. On her knees before the man she called father, she was barely aware of the dark wings with their tips distorted into claw-like hands, thrashing above her head and threatening to swiftly tear apart the man before her. Dainty fingernails scratched at the floor's smooth surface, her whole body trembling with the whirlpool of sadness, rejection, confusion and ...anger. There it was, boiling and bubbling and surging like fire, until she could bear the pain no longer and with a scream lashed a wing forward like a whip.

There was a loud crack, and Ruben Cure stumbled backwards, his remaining good leg failing to hold his weight and sending him slamming to the floor. The other limb was useless, snapped just below the knee, the cap of the joint all but crushed by the impact. Viona's cries of fright stung Jozua's ears like ice, running her through in an instant, and again she struck out, beating the man she no longer wanted to know against the secretary's desk. He collapsed with a weak groan, his injured leg lying at an awkward angle.

Crouched on all fours like an animal, she swept her gaze around the room, and fixated it on her mother and nephew. She could not feel badly about them. Her mother had loved her, and had not been shocked at her mutant power. Now Viona stood with tears streaking down her face, horrified at her child's violent assault on her husband. The love had been ripped out in that instant. How could she love her child if that child was a monster?

Goodbye, mama and little Joshua.

A low growl emerged from Jozua's throat; uniformed staff were beginning to emerge rapidly from the doorways, armed with equipment Jozua had never seen before. Her wings helped her to her feet, and she stood facing them as they formed a wall between her and her family, poised to strike. Her eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled in a semi-bestial snarl, fingers twitching as she waited for one to make the first move. She wasn't kept long; one had tried to sneak towards her father, and as she shot him a wary glance he aimed his weapon and fired. A wing deflected the shot with a powerful back swung, Jozua stepping round to face him as the other wing rushed forward to grasp and hurl the uniformed man to the other side of the lobby. More moved forward - Jozua's second scream cut them short.

Suddenly she was on the floor again, vision swimming and her side blazing. She curled on the floor, holding her side as tightly as she could, feeling the sample shrink at her back and recede and again she was just a girl, just a small girl in need of help. Another scream, louder this time. Another.

The next she managed to form into a word, "Doctor! ...Doctor!"

She held her side so tightly that her nails sunk through enough layers of skin to bring beads of blood to the surface, and her head pounded as the lobby slipped in and out of focus. Something, something from her time at the hospital - what was it? She knew it, but it flitted out of her mind's grasp before she could find the answer. She had seen it, seen others like she was now, unable to hold in such agonising pain that they had to shout so loudly to get it out. From somewhere behind she heard approaching footsteps, and with tear-blurred eyes she thought she saw his face above her. For a moment, all went quiet. The answer came.

She murmured faintly, "I think my appendix just burst."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus enjoyed watching Jozua break her father's leg. He deserved it. The team came in and surrounded Jozua. She retaliated and injured one, and possibly killed another one or two.

Before they could begin to seriously apprehend her, she shrank down into herself again and lay on the floor shouting in pain and shaking like a leaf.

"Take Jozua to the operating room. We have to do something about her appendix."

Klaus considered the Hippocratic oath he took in medical school as he looked at the crippled man on the floor.

"And we will see what we can do to fix Mister Cure's broken leg." He sneered. "That is, if he will allow a so-called quack doctor to see to his health."

Jozua's mother pleaded that he see to her husband and apologized profusely for his behavior.

"Very well. Take him to get an X-ray. We will then set that leg and he will be on his way."

Klaus swept himself into the elevator to scrub up for Jozua's surgery. "Contact me as soon as she is in an operating room."

[Jozua Cure]

Two pairs of strong hands held Jozua under her arms and knees and her suddenly weakened body was hurried out of the lobby and into the elevator. More people joined them - how many, she couldn't tell, and she fought down another yell of pain, managing to muffle it to a whimper. The efficiency of the Jericho Center proved itself as the elevator doors opened and revealed a bed waiting for her, which she was quickly and gently desposited on before the staff hurriedly wheeled it to the nearest operating theatre.

She let out another yell as her side continued to lance her body with pain, and for once felt no assistance from the sample that shared her body. No lines marked her pale skin, no unexplained urges consumed her, even for a second. Before she knew what was happening, the anaesthetist was upon her, preparing to administer the drug to her system.

Wait. I want my doctor.

She fought the drug as it seeped into her bloodstream, widening her eyes to keep them from closing. Around her there were lights and instruments being poked at her and people talking about things she was sure would not stop the pain that was quickly becoming a dull ache. She covered her eyes with a feeble hand, but it fell away again.

If I wanted to leave, I now cannot.

Resignedly, Jozua allowed the staff to roll her onto her back, her reactions and protests becoming weaker by the second as the drug dragged her into the depths of unconciousness. The panicked thudding of her own heart drowned out any other noises, and her eyes slid closed.

I belong to Jericho.