By JF Jackson
Part Eight
Some would say that vampires did not dream. Some who said that when they slept, it was the same as being dead.
If someone were to confront Rhiannon with this theory, she would have laughed in their face. She knew vampires dreamed. She certainly did. She also knew that her dreaming was not because she was only a half vampire. Stealth had told her of his dreams. The daysleep of most vampires was a deep, heavy sleep, but it was not void of dreams and images.
Feeling safe and secure in Remy's arms, the glow of the love they had shared still clinging to her, Rhiannon thought that her dreams might be pleasant. It would be nice, as sometimes they were not. Snuggling closer to him, feeling his arm tighten around her, the steady shallow breathing and flickering of his eyelids telling her he was asleep, she closed her own eyes and drifted off.
It was one of those perfect October afternoons. The air was cool, but not quite cold. The sky was a deep, blue with cotton candy clouds. The leaves had turned, leaving the landscape a brilliant blend of gold and scarlet. Summer was clearly over, but winter still seemed very far off.
Rhiannon was fifteen years old and at that moment, she did not have a care in the world. Most of her life she had spent having to act older than she really was, never really allowed to have a childhood. But for now, she was nothing but a teenage girl, running as fast as she could through the grass, feeling the autumn leaves crackling and crunching under her feet.
The reason why she ran was right behind her, gaining rapidly. "You can't outrun me, Rhiannon!" he shouted. "I'm going to get you."
"You and what army?" she called over her shoulder. It was that one moment of looking back instead of forward that was her downfall. She tripped on a fallen branch, falling down into the leaves. She was not worried though, the grass and leaves were soft, and if there was one thing she had learned being part of the X-Men, it was how to fall.
Her pursuer took advantage of the opportunity she gave him and put on a burst of speed. As he got closer, he leaped into the air, landing on top of her. "Gotcha now!" Gathering her in his arms, he rolled in the grass with her.
"Bobby, cut it out!" she protested, trying to sound upset. She did not succeed though, mostly because she was laughing as hard as he was. "Gesh, your getting me all covered with leaves!"
"Covered with leaves?" He let her go and rolled onto his knees. "I'll show you covered with leaves!" Gathering up a huge armful of leaves, he threw them up in the air so they scattered all over her. "How's that?"
She scrambled so she was sitting up, pushing leaves off her head, still laughing. "You creep!" she said. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Fall in love with me, run off with me, or promise me you'll marry me the day you turn eighteen," Bobby promptly answered.
She looked at him, one brow quirked. "Gee, you don't want much, do you?"
"Yes, I do," he said, "I want something very special. I want you. If that isn't wanting a lot, I don't know what is."
She smiled, looking at him. She wondered what kind of pair they made, if anyone could have seen them together. He looked so wholesome and all American with his sandy brown hair, not too long, not too short, his sweet blue eyes, his stonewashed jeans and New York Mets sweatshirt. She did not think she looked so sweet. Her long auburn hair was hanging lose, spilling over her back and shoulders. She was wearing a pair of well-worn jeans, the knees completely gone, one of the legs slit up the side up to the knee, and a T-shirt she had rescued from the trash. From the way it hung off her shoulders, but barely covered her stomach, it was obvious that the original owner of the shirt was Wolverine. "You're a good kid, Bobby," she said, reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes. "Too good for me."
"No, I'm not too good for you," Bobby countered. "You're a very special person, Rhiannon. I just wish you believed that."
"Yeah, I'm the goddamned salt of the mother-fucking earth," she muttered, pulling a cigarette out of the pack and lighting it.
Bobby sighed. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he finally said, pointing to the cigarette.
"Why?" Her brows furrowed in puzzlement as she took a drag and blew a perfect smoke ring. "We're outside."
"Because you're too young," he said. "And it's bad for you."
She snorted. "I've been smoking on and off since I was eight. I know it's bad for me, but who wants to live forever?"
"Eight?" He stared at her.
She nodded. "Yeah. I was living on one of those foster farms... I think this was the fourth one I'd been to. I was the youngest kid there. The husband and wife both smoked and the kids would steal cigs from their packs when they weren't looking and we'd sneak behind the barn and smoke them." She shrugged. "I didn't want to look like a baby, so I learned to smoke so I could hang with them."
"No one here thinks you're a baby," he said, moving closer to her.
"Sure," she rolled her eyes in her head. "Scott thinks I'm a total idiot."
"Scott thinks I'm an idiot too, at times. That's his problem. What I'm trying to say, Rhian, is that you don't have to smoke to prove anything."
"Thank you, Mr. Surgeon General," she muttered. "I'm not smoking to prove anything. I'm smoking because I want to." But she tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it out with the heel of her sneaker. "That better?"
He put his arm around her. "Aw, don't be mad at me, Rhian. You're my best friend."
"And your mine," she put her arm around him, leaning against his shoulder. "My wholesome oatmeal and apple pie best buddy."
"Gee thanks." His lips twisted into a smirk. "And what are you?"
"Well, I ain't no fucking virgin," she said, shrugging. "I got the stretch marks to prove it."
He grew silent for a moment. He knew she had a daughter, but it was normally a taboo subject. He knew she and the Professor had discussed it several times, but what they talked about was not known to him. He had seen a picture of her daughter; Rhiannon had a few of them in her dresser drawer by her bed. She had not voluntarily shown them to him, but he had opened the drawer and peeked at them. Kierra was a pretty girl, with orange red hair and a sweet face that reminded him of her mother. "Can I ask you something?"
She looked at him and shrugged. "Sure, go for it."
"Do you miss her?"
Her eyes widened, knowing exactly who he was referring to. She was tempted to run off, but fought the urge. "Not a day goes by where I don't think about her, and pray she's all right, that her new family loves her as much as I do," she finally said. She looked away from him, down at the ground instead. She felt awkward discussing Kierra with the X-Men. She was younger than all of them; even Bobby was a few months older than her, yet she had child. She had never been in love, yet she had a daughter. Someone who should be a living proof that she once loved someone, but she was not. She loved her daughter with all her heart and soul, but the act that conceived her was not one of love, or even respect. It had been a case of, "Don't tell anyone I snuck in your room or I'll make you sorry." She did not think would qualify as rape, because there had been a part of her that sort of liked it, the closeness of it all, but it certainly was not love.
He picked up a maple leaf that had turned a bright red. He twisted it in his fingers, not knowing if he should continue this subject or not. "I-I'm really sorry you lost her. I-I wish I were older."
She looked at him, her brow quirked in a puzzled expression. "What does being older have to do with anything?"
"Because-Because-Because," he began, turning bright red.
She patted his back. "Bobby, you're stuck. Say it."
"Because if I was older, I could marry you and we could try to get your daughter back," he finally blurted out.
Her eyes widened. Her first impulse was to snap out something sarcastic about not even wanting him in the first place, but she did not act on it. He was being honest with her. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.
He returned the kiss, then brushed his fingers over his lips, not quite believing she had done it. "What was that for?"
"For just being you," she said softly. "Bobby, it's all right, really. I was young when I had her and it wasn't easy raising her. I'm sure the state found a good home for her, a home where she'll be loved and cared for and have two parents. It-it's probably better for her."
He did not believe that. Under her tough exterior, Bobby knew there was a person who had been ripped apart at loosing her child. He could remember how quiet she was when she first got there, not talking to anyone, her face so pale as if in shock. He knew where there were nights, when most people were asleep, when she crept downstairs and talked to Professor Xavier. He remembered one time; walking by his office and seeing the door open just a crack. Unable to resist, he peeked in. Rhiannon was kneeling in front of Charles, her head in his lap, sobbing uncontrollably. The professor was stroking her hair, not saying anything, just letting her cry it out. He remembered being so shocked. Rhiannon had only been at the mansion about a week and he had not seen her even smile, never mind cry. He was beginning to wonder if she did not know how to show emotions, yet here she was, crying pitifully. He remembered thinking how awful it was. How someone so young could be so devastated. He swore at that moment, that whatever it took, he would be her friend. He would make her smile again, maybe even laugh. He also vowed that if he could ever do anything to help her get her daughter back, he would do it. So far, he had been able to be her friend; to make her smile, but he could not do anything about the other vow. He was still a kid.
"You mean if you had the chance to get her back you wouldn't?" he finally asked.
"Not if it meant ripping her apart," she said. She fumbled for her cigarettes again, then changed her mind, and leaped to her feet.
"Fall is the sunset of the seasons," she declared, spinning in the grass. "The final burst of glory before the nighttime that is winter. I love Fall."
He watched as she danced around in the leaves, her hair flying around her face, looking almost like some exotic woodland creature. His breath caught in his throat and he wished he could join her.
As if she could read his mind, she spun over to him. "Dance with me, Bobby."
"Sure, right." He rolled his eyes.
"Why? There is no one around here to see us," she countered. "I won't tell anyone."
"There's no music," he protested. He did not want to dance with her; afraid he would look like some lumbering clod. Although he was athletic, dancing was not one of the things he did with any ease, unlike Rhiannon.
She blew him a raspberry. "There is plenty of music," she disagreed. "You just have to know how to listen to it." She grabbed his arm, tugging on it, insisting he stand. When he did, she reached up and put her fingers on his eyelids. "Now, close your eyes and really listen."
He did. "I don't hear anything. I guess I'm not on the same frequency," he joked, opening his eyes.
She shook her head. "You're just not trying. Close them again." When he did, she nodded. "Now, listen very, very, hard."
He concentrated, feeling a bit silly, but wanting to do what she asked. He could hear the wind, blowing through the leaves, causing them to rustle, as whispering secrets to each other. He could hear the occasional cry of a bird. "I don't think it's working. All I hear are leaves and birds."
"You're almost there," she said, softly. "Concentrate on the sound of the wind and the leaves. Listen to the noises they make. The problem is that you are used to music being only on the radio or played by a band. Music is all around us. Just listen to the leaves and try to hear their music."
He kept listening, feeling increasingly foolish. Part of him wondered if she was playing a trick on him. He was just about to open his eyes and give up, when it happened. The wind blew through the leaves, and instead if it sounding like crackling and whispering, it started to sound like music. Like the leaves were playing to the wind, tiny chimes. "Oh!"
"You hear it!" she whispered, excited. "You're hearing it, right?"
He nodded, eyes still closed. "Yeah, I'm hearing it. It sounds like those wooden chime things. You know, the ones made out of bamboo or something like that."
"It doesn't matter what they're playing, it only matters that you hear it," she said. "Now, concentrate further and tell me what song they're playing."
"Maybe you should do that," he said. "You're the music nut."
"All right." She closed her own eyes, listening. "But you should know, everyone hears different song. There is no right or wrong."
"Well, what song are they playing for you?" he asked.
She listened carefully. "Everywhere," she finally concluded.
"I don't know it."
Drawing in a deep breath, she began singing, her voice clear and sweet:
Can you hear me calling?
Out your name
You know I'm falling and I don't know what to say
Speak a little louder? I'll even shout.
You know I'm proud and I can't get the words out
Oh, I want to be with you everywhere...
He opened his eyes, unable to resist looking at her. Her eyes were still closed and she was moving softly with the music. She looked so beautiful when she sang, so perfectly at peace, as if singing was the one thing that could set her soul at ease.
Something's happening,
happening to me
My friends say I'm acting peculiarly
C'mon baby, let's make a start
Better make it soon before you break my heart.
I wanna be with you everywhere...
His breath caught in his throat as he listened and watched her. I wish she were really singing it to me, about me, he thought.
When she finished the song, she opened her eyes and grinned. "Now you'll always hear the music."
"I don't think I can unless I'm with you," he confessed. "God, Rhiannon, you're so... beautiful. And you sing like an angel."
She blushed. "Thanks."
"No, really, I'm serious." He reached out and touched her face, stroking her cheek lightly. "Rhiannon, I don't know what the future holds, but I know that I always want you to be part of it. Even if it's just as my friend."
"Aw," she reached up and took his hand in hers. "That is so sweet."
"I mean it," he said. "I've never met anyone like you."
She looked at him, a lump in her throat. Unable to resist, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Bobby Drake, I hope to God I always am a part of your life. You're one of the first people I've met that hasn't wanted something out of me, sex, money, a scapegoat, or whatever. I don't ever want to hurt you. I'd rather die, first."
"I don't think you could hurt me," he said, hugging her back. "Unless you stopped being my friend."
When they drew apart, she hastily rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears that had somehow managed to gather at the corners. She knew her eyes had changed from green to blue. Blue was the color they turned whenever she was in a strong emotional state. "You don't have to worry about that. I'll always be your friend."
He was about to answer that, when they both heard the summoning in their minds from Charles. Bobby, Rhiannon, please report to the danger room immediately. You are scheduled for a training session.
Coming! they both responded together then looked at each other. "Guess we'd better head back before Snot, I mean Scott gets upset," Rhiannon finally said. "He's so damned anal when it comes to those training sessions."
"Yeah, I guess we'd better." Putting his arm around her, they started to head back to the mansion.
As they were walking past a grove of trees, Rhiannon looked and saw a woman standing there, watching them. She paused and squinted. Although the figure was hidden among the leaves, there was something familiar about her, like she did not know her yet, but one day, would.
Stay away from him! The stranger warned her, in her mind. The voice sounded familiar, too familiar. She shivered, realizing whose voice it was, her own. The stranger was her own self. Older perhaps, but still her.
Why? she thought back. She did not care if this stranger was her; she still had no right to tell her what to do, who to associate with. This version of herself was an adult and she still was not sure if any adult really knew what they were talking about. Except for, perhaps Charles Xavier and Logan.
Because we're no good for him!
Her nostrils flared. Who are you to interfere!
I'm you, you stupid girl. Or what you will be. And I'm warning you, if you really cared for him, you'd push him away. If you continue being his friend you're going to hurt him and hurt him badly.
Bullshit! she roared back. He's my best friend in the world; I would never hurt him.
Liar!
The mental voice was so strong she almost fell over from the force of it. "Are you all right?" Bobby asked, concerned.
She looked at him, trying to imagine any time when she could or would hurt this person, her best friend in the whole world. She could not picture it. If anything, she wanted to protect him so no one ever hurt him. "I-I'm fine."
"Okay," he said. "But we'd better hurry back."
"Yeah," she agreed. "Maybe we'd better run." She wanted to get as far away from that grove of trees as fast as possible, away from the stranger that was herself. Taking his hand, she started running, pulling him along with her.
Liar! The voice continued to shout in her head. Go ahead; run away like you always do. You never could listen to the truth. Run, and know that someday you're going to hurt him like you've managed to hurt everyone else you've even remotely cared about!
Shut up! she roared back. Shut up and leave me alone!
That's right, I'll leave you alone for now. Leave you alone with your silly dreams, your lies. That's all you have, Rhiannon Lestan. Lies. Empty promises and lies! I tried to help you, but you won't listen. Someday, sooner than you think you're going to
"..rip his soul apart!" Rhiannon screamed, waking up.
Remy's eyes snapped open. "What de " He looked over at Rhiannon. She was sitting up, arms wrapped around her legs, head resting on her knees, shaking. "Rhiannon!"
"Rip his fucking soul apart," she moaned.
"Rip who's soul apart?" he asked, sitting up.
She looked over at him, pink tinged tears falling down her face. "I-I'm sorry, it was just a dream," she whispered.
"Uh, musta' been one 'ell of a dream," he said, moving closer and putting his arm around her. "Rip someone's soul apart?"
She nodded. "I dreamed about when I was younger, and still living at the mansion. I was with Bobby. We were messing around outside, being kids." She smiled a weak, watery smile.
"Dat don't sound too bad," he said. "When did it turn ugly?"
"At the end," she whispered. "We were heading back to the mansion, when I saw me. I mean, me as an adult the way I am now."
"That could be spooky," he admitted. "What did you do, I mean your adult self?"
"Tried to warn me. Tried to tell me to stay away from Bobby. That I was nothing but trouble." She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes, smearing them with a faint, pinkish tinge. "I didn't listen, of course. I was never one to take good advice."
He nodded. He was not too surprised she had the dream. She had spent a lot of time in the last sixteen or so hours talking about her past. It was bound to get her mind on the subject. "You know, it might 'elp both of us if you tole me what 'appened to Bobby," he said softly.
"I was going to," she reminded him. "Until Scott interrupted us. Then, when you came over tonight I was going to, but we both got " She paused, looking him up and down. "Distracted."
"Oui," he agreed, grinning at her. He reached down and took a blanket from the foot of her bed and brought it up, wrapping it around both of them. "Maybe dis will 'elp so we don' get distracted again."
She chuckled softly, then sighed. "Maybe I should let Scott or Charles tell you what happened. I might be a bit biased in my own favor."
"Oh and Scott wouldn't be a bit biased himself?" Remy snorted. "Non, Rhiannon, I want to hear your story."
She nodded. Running her fingers through her hair, she moved away from him, shifting slightly so she could look at him. "You know that I was a member of the X-Men right?"
He nodded. "Den while de professor was out of town on business, you an' Scott decided you weren't cut out to be an X-Man."
She snorted. "Well, that isn't quite the truth, but I suppose it will do for now."
He nodded, not wanting to say anything; afraid it might discourage her from telling the story.
She took a deep breath. "Okay, we have to go back to after the night I was attacked. Remember I told you I did not realized at first that I had changed? That I was still able to eat and go out in the sunlight?"
He nodded.
"Well, as days went by, I got more and more confused. I started noticing all these weird things about me, like I could see really well in the nighttime, I did not need much sleep anymore, and preferred to sleep in the mornings. Also, I was constantly hungry. I did not know why, but it seemed that nothing could satisfy me. Rare red meat came close, and I was eating an awful lot of that, but while it helped, it didn't quite get rid of the craving." She shook her head. "You must think I was stupid, not being able to put it together, but I think I was trying to deny it. I was still trying to live my life. But, I felt lonely. I had not made any friends and the few acquaintances I knew I just avoided. I felt like I was being watched too, especially at night, but no one would confront me. One night, it got bad. I was in my apartment and I felt like the walls were closing in on me, and the strange hunger I was feeling was going to consume me. I went out; figuring I could just walk around until it went away, or I felt tired enough to sleep. I don't know if I meant to go there, but I ended up outside the mansion
She knew how to get around the security systems; it had been a game between her and Bobby. Sneaking out late at night to go places, or do things, when they were not supposed to. Of course, they might have switched things around when she left, but she would take her chances.
Either the security systems were identical, or something about her would not set them off, because she managed to make it up the mansion. She walked around to the back, where she knew Bobby's room was and looked up. It was summer time, and the casement windows were open. It did not matter that the whole mansion was climate controlled, Bobby liked having the windows open while he slept when it was warm.
There was a tree outside his window; many times it had helped the two of them to escape. And tonight, it helps me to break in, she thought, as she started climbing it. When she was outside of Bobby's window, she listened, hearing him softly breathing, obviously asleep. "Bobby," she called out, softly.
It was not loud enough to wake him. "Bobby," she called again, a bit louder this time. "Bobby, please, wake up!"
She did not know if he wanted to talk to her or not, but she had to take the risk. "Bobby!" she called out, as loud as she dared.
From inside she could hear noises like someone stirring. Then Bobby's voice. "Huh?"
"Bobby, come to the window!" she hissed.
"Rhiannon?"
"Yes!" She heard the rustling of the sheets as he climbed out of bed.
He came to the window, tying his robe around his waist. "Rhiannon, my god!"
"Take the screen out and let me come in," she suggested. "I don't want anyone to hear me out here."
"Okay!" He took the screen out of the window and helped her inside, "God, Rhiannon, I missed you. Why do you feel so cold?"
"I'm fine," she said, wrapping her arms around him, so grateful to see him. "Really."
He hugged her back, tightly. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure." When they broke apart, she walked over to his bed and sat down. "Are you really glad to see me?" she asked, not quite able to believe it, despite the hug and the way he was looking at her, smiling so brightly.
"Of course I'm glad to see you, silly girl." He sat down next to her. "I missed you like crazy these last few years."
"You did?"
"Yeah, of course I did. Rhiannon, you didn't even say good bye when you left, I didn't know what to think."
She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "What did you want me to do, call a meeting and say, 'Hey, I know you all decided I didn't belong here, but I just want to let you know '"
"Wait a second," he interrupted her. "We decided you didn't belong here?"
"Yeah," she said, biting her lower lip. "Scott told me that all of you had a meeting and decided that I was not X-Men material and that it was best I leave."
Bobby's eyes widened in shock. "That fucking bastard!"
Rhiannon's mouth hung open in shock. Bobby swearing? She almost could not believe it. "Wow, you have changed these last few years," she murmured.
"Rhiannon, there was no meeting," Bobby said.
"What do you mean?" she asked, a dark thread of suspicion weaving itself into her mind.
"Rhian, I just woke up that morning and found out you had left. No one told me about any meeting. No one told anyone about any meeting. Scott really told you that we all decided you didn't belong here?"
"Yes!" She swallowed several times. "He did. He told me that all of you agreed. All of you."
"That's not true. No one asked my opinion. No one asked anyone else's as far as I know. Logan was upset to find out you left. Even the professor kinda raked Scott over the coals about it. He said Scott should have tried to talk you into staying, not just let you go like that."
"Jesus Christ," she swore softly. She could not believe this, after all this time, that everything she believed was a lie. "Bobby, I believe you, but that was the story Scott told me. He called me into the professor's office one night and told me that everyone agreed I was not X-Man material. What could I say? What could I do? If everyone felt that way, I felt I should leave. So I did."
"Yeah, but it wasn't that way," Bobby said. "What I heard was that you came to Scott one night and told him you didn't feel you belonged with the X-Men. Scott said that he tried to talk you into staying, but since you were eighteen, there was nothing he could really do."
"Scott did not try to talk me into anything," Rhiannon said, growling softly under her breath. "I wanted to say good bye to you, but he told me it might be best if I didn't. Because of what he told me, that everyone had agreed it was best I leave, I thought it might be better that way. I I wasn't mad at you, but I thought that you might not want to see me since you must have agreed I should not be a part of the X-Men either."
"Jesus," Bobby swore softly. "Scott set this up. It was all a lie. He wanted you out of here."
"Well, Scott and I never did get along," Rhiannon reminded him. Now that she knew the truth, it almost made sense. She had made too many mistakes with Scott. Defied his authority, mouthed off to him, and never missed the chance to insult or humiliate him. Even worse, she had once tried to befriend him. That was her biggest mistake.
"That didn't give him the right to do what he did!" Bobby said, still angry.
She sighed. "What does it matter. I'm not coming back."
"It matters to me," he said. "Rhiannon, I felt awful when you left. I wondered if I'd done something wrong and that's why you wouldn't even say good bye. For weeks, months, I hoped you'd call or write or something and explain why you felt you had to leave so suddenly. But I heard nothing. Now I find out you think I betrayed you. That you think I thought you should leave, along with everyone else."
"It-it's all right. Scott was right, I never really was X-Man material."
"Bullshit."
"Gesh, Bobby, stop swearing. It's not your style!"
His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, I'm just angry about this."
"Let it go, it's all in the past," she advised him.
There was a long silence as they both looked at each other. Rhiannon found herself studying him. There was something about him that drew her. She always thought he was sort-of cute, in a wholesome sort of way, but tonight he looked downright appealing. She could smell his scent and it smelled delicious. She shook her head quickly and moved away from him, to the edge of the bed.
"What's wrong, Rhiannon? Aren't you glad you came?"
"Yes!" she said, "And no. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea."
"Don't say that!" He moved closer to her, putting his arm around her. "I'm so glad to see you, I missed you so much."
"I missed you too," she admitted. "You're looking good."
"Not half as good as you're looking," He looked her over. "I always thought you were pretty, but you've grown into a definite babe."
"Cut it out!" she protested, grinning.
"Double babe. Babe personified," he said, his expression serious, but his eyes gleaming. "Your hair looks fuller and darker. Or maybe it's that your skin looks lighter. Are you okay, Rhiannon?"
"I'm fine." She felt her mouth beginning to tingle, especially her upper jaw. For some strange reason, looking at Bobby was making her hungry. That strange hunger that had been gnawing at her since the night she had been attacked was getting stronger now.
"Are you sure?" Bobby asked. She did not look very well right now, her face seemed even paler than when she first came in and she was trembling. "Are you sick?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sick. I'm-I'm "
"You're what?" he gently prompted her.
"Shit, Bobby, something's happened to me. And I can't figure it out. It's driving me nuts."
"What is it?" he asked, eyes wide with concern. "Rhiannon, you can tell me."
She had to tell someone. The incident had been kept inside her for too long, getting heavier and heavier. And what was happening to her lately was not funny. The constant hunger, the improved night vision, the needing less sleep. There were other things too, like sometimes hearing voices in her head, fuzzy whispers that she could barely make out, night whispers that spoke of things she did not want to know. Dreams she had, of that night, and of a wolf that sometimes came into her room and looked at her while she slept. She also thought she had seen that same wolf a few times when she was awake, wandering the city. But she knew that couldn't be true. It couldn't be a timber wolf; it must be some sort of dog, a stray. Taking a deep breath, she began telling him about the night.
He listened, not saying anything, just nodding occasionally. When she had finished telling him, about the attack, he reached out and took her hands. "Rhiannon, I'm so sorry. That was awful. I wish I could have been there, to help you."
"It's all right," she said, twisting her fingers around his. "It's over, and my attacker is dead. But that's not the worst part. It's what's happening now."
"What's happening now?" he asked.
She told him of the hunger and the other things. "I can't figure it out, Bobby. What is wrong with me? Why is this happening to me?"
"Rhiannon, you were attacked by a vampire, you drank some of his blood. He drank a lot of yours." He shook his head, as if not quite believing she had not put this all together. "Now your night vision is better and you feel this strange hunger. Rhiannon, I think you re a vampire."
She shivered. "No, I can't be. I told you, I can go out during the day, I still eat and drink."
"Well, it sounds like you're something like a vampire," he said. "The night vision? The improved sense of smell? I'm not a vampire expert, but I think those are all symptoms of it. You said that the guy who attacked you said something about three more times? I think he'd started changing you into a vampire when you guys were interrupted. He didn't succeed completely, but he had changed you. I've never heard of anything like this, but I think what you are is a vampire-human cross."
"No," she shook her head, not wanting to believe. "No, I can't be."
"Look, you should talk to Hank. He can run some tests on you."
"No!" she shook her head. "No tests." She rose from the bed, running to the window. "I won't allow it, I can't allow it."
He jumped up from the bed and came over to her. "Okay, Rhian, no tests. I just thought it might help figure out what you are." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't run, please? It's going to be all right. I'm here and I'll help you any way I can."
She turned and looked at him, fighting tears. "I can't be a vampire, I just can't." The possibility was too horrid to imagine.
He led her back to the bed and sat down next to her. "What about the hunger you're feeling? You say red meat helps but it doesn't completely satisfy it. Think about it, Rhiannon. It sounds to me like what you need is blood."
As the word "blood" rolled off his lips, Rhiannon's stomach seemed to twist into knots and the tingling in her upper jaw intensified. "No," she whispered, making one last futile attempt to delude herself. "I can't be. I don't have fangs."
"Maybe 'cause you haven't tried to used them yet," he suggested. "I've seen lots of movies with vampires and their teeth seem to grow longer, or appear when they're needed. Otherwise, they look pretty normal. Look, Rhian, there is only one real way to test this."
"What is that?"
He shifted the robe off his neck. "Try to bite my neck."
"Brave man," Remy interrupted, unable to stop himself. "You weren't sure what you were den. You din' know you din' need much blood."
"No kidding," Rhiannon said, sighing. "But looking back, I'm not surprised he was so willing."
"Why?"
"Because he loved me," Rhiannon said quietly. "I never did anything to deserve it, but he did.
"I can understand why." He reached out and brushed her hair off her shoulders. "Dere is somet'in special 'bout you, Rhiannon."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm God's gift," she muttered.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, no more of dat. What happened den?"
"I looked at him, feeling like my eyes were going to bulge out of their sockets and said:
"Bobby Drake, are you insane?"
"Well, I'm a human ice cube that runs around in spandex saving the world. I can't be screwed on too tightly." Her grinned.
Part of her wanted to shake him. "If you are right, if I am a human/vampire hybrid, what you're suggesting could be dangerous. What if I loose control and kill you?" Another part wanted to grab him tightly and never let go.
"You won't," he said, completely confident.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Cause it's me, Bobby, your bestest buddy. The guy who taught you how to laugh when you thought you had forgotten. The guy who used to make you smile. The guy who helped you pass Algebra."
"I am not going to bite your neck," she insisted stubbornly. "It's too dangerous."
"Then how about my wrist?" he suggested, bringing it up to her mouth. "Look at that, Rhiannon, nice blue juicy vein, just waiting for you to take a bite "
She started to slap his arm away when something inside her took over. Instead she grabbed his wrist, the tingling in her upper jaw growing stronger, turning into a stinging sensation. Then, two small, sharp fangs broke through the skin, lowered, and fell into place. Part of her mind was horrified; the rest was salivating in anticipation of the taste of his blood.
"Nice fangs," Bobby said. "Cute, but deadly. And you have a new color shift for your eyes, red."
"Shut up!" she growled. As she brought his wrist up to her mouth, she could feel something take her over, some instinct stronger than anything she had ever felt in her life. She licked the vein, softening it slightly, then sunk her fangs into it.
"Yowch!" Bobby yelped, then immediately fell silent.
The moment she tasted his blood, rich, sweet, and red, it was as if she zoomed into his mind. She had no idea she could do this, yet it seemed natural to her. Natural or not, she did not know how to control this. She felt as if she was being carried away from it. Her mind immediately focused in on his pleasure center, pushing at it with all she could as she drank from him, feeling the thick liquid filling her mouth, easing down her throat into her stomach where it attacked the gnawing hunger, quenching it.
Oooh, Bobby gasped. She did not know if she heard his voice with her ears or in his mind.
"Mmm," Remy murmured, thinking of what she had done to his mind earlier that night with her feeding. "I can imagine dat wit'out any training, what Bobby must 'ave been feeling was pretty intense."
Rhiannon nodded. "That's one word for it. In fact, with the exception of what Bobby did in the privacy of his bathroom, with his hand, I can tell you his first orgasm came from being feed from."
"Dat's a pretty drastic," he commented a smirk playing across his lips.
"Don't feel too superior. The first one I ever gave you was for the same reason."
He shook his head, still smiling. "Okay, Rhiannon, you put me in my place. "
"Well, I didn't want you feeling too smug." Although she smiled, her eyes still had a worried, haunted look.
"But let me guess, it didn' stop dere, did it?"
She shook her head. "No. It was the first time I had ever feed. I think I took more from him than I have ever taken from anyone else since. Certainly more than I should have, but not enough to endanger him. He told me later that he felt weak and thirsty the next day, but other than that, he was fine. I did not take it all at once that night either. We spent most of the night together."
"Participating in de same activities you an' I were, earlier dis morning?" he asked.
She nodded, blushing faintly. "Well, maybe we weren't as good at it as you and I were tonight. Despite that I was uh, sexually active at an early age, I didn't have that many notches on my belt, so-to-speak."
He nodded. "An' dat wasn't de only night you snuck to de mansion, was it?"
She shook her head. "No, it wasn't. I didn't go every night. I found I didn't need blood every night and I was afraid that constantly taking, even little bits from him, wouldn't be good."
"Probably not," he agreed.
"Sometimes he came to the city to visit me for the weekend." She smiled. "He was eighteen by then, so he did not have to explain his whereabouts to anyone. Sometimes I wondered if Professor Xavier knew. I know he says he would never probe anyone's mind for no reason, but you have to wonder if stray thoughts wander in, uninvited at times. But he never said anything to Bobby, never tried to stop us."
"Dat doesn' surprise me," he commented. "De professor sometimes comes across as old fashioned, but he's remarkably understanding of human nature. If he did know, he probably thought it wasn' doing any harm to anyone, so why should he object?"
"True." She reached over to the nightstand. "Do you want a cigarette?" When he nodded, she opened the drawer and pulled out a pack, a lighter, and an ashtray, which she handed to him.
"T'anks." He opened the pack, took out two cigarettes, lit them both, and handed one to her. "So now I understand dat you and Bobby got in touch again, but I still don' know why de professor would take away all his memories of you."
"I'm getting to that," she said, sighing. This was the hard part. "Once I realized what I was, I began learning some things about myself. Some of them seemed to come naturally; others were through the trial and error method. One thing I learned though, was that my blood could heal wounds."
He nodded, reaching up to feel his neck. As far as his fingers could sense, his neck showed absolutely no signs of being bitten. "Dat makes sense."
"Yeah, it does." She took a drag from her cigarette. "In a full blooded vampire, saliva will work just as well. But with me, it has got to be blood. So, I learned how to nip my tongue, just enough to give me a couple drops of blood, which I would smear over the puncture marks I made and heal them."
"Handy skill," he said, smiling.
"Yeah. One I was real happy to find out about. I could imagine what the X-Men would do if Bobby started showing up for breakfast with a couple of puncture wounds in his neck."
"T'ink he 'ad girlfriends dat gave some wild hickeys," Remy murmured.
She looked at him and snickered. "Yeah, sure, that's it." She flicked some ashes from the end of her cigarette into the ashtray. "So, I knew my blood could heal, but I didn't know it had some other interesting properties."
"Like what?"
She bit her lower lip. "I'm getting to that." She refused to fall into the memory, knowing how much it would hurt. She had to tell the story as detached as possible.
He said nothing, just waited for her to continue.
"One night I went to see him. I hadn't seen him for almost a month. Every time we tried to get together it seemed like the X-Men were suddenly needed to save the world. Also, I was trying to start a band at the time. I was getting tired of being a stripper. So, needless to say, by the time I got there, I was very hungry."
"I snuck in the window, like I usually did. The moon was full that night, which didn't make my help with my hunger. Some vampires can be affected by the moon, and I am one of them. He barely had time to open the screen and let me in when grabbed him, practically threw him on the bed and started ripping his clothes off."
"Lucky Bobby," he murmured.
"He might not agree with you, if he even remembered."
"Are you sayin' he was upset?"
"No. Actually, he was pretty enthusiastic about what I was doing." She thought she should smile when she said that, but found she could not. Because I know what that night lead to! she thought. "I got a bit too enthusiastic when I bit his neck, I didn't just pierce it, I pulled. Instead of just making two holes in his skin, I ripped it. "
"Ouch." He found himself wincing, thinking about it.
"Bobby didn't seem to notice, or mind. I was pushing the rapture into him, almost as fast as I did the first night I fed. But I noticed it, when I stopped feeding. I panicked as I bit my tongue and instead of just pricking it with my teeth, I bit the end off. I smeared the blood on the cut, which did the trick. But my tongue was bleeding badly."
"Bobby was pretty much oblivious to what had happened. The rapture can be pretty potent stuff, as you know. He lifted my chin and kissed me, hard. My tongue was still bleeding rather freely. He drank a bit of it."
Remy's brows furrowed, thinking. "Wouldn't dat have made him like you are? A part vampire?"
She shook her head. "No. I hadn't taken nearly enough blood to affect that sort of change. Besides, it isn't easy to become a part vampire. I'm the only one, as far as I know. Some think I'm the only one that has ever been. Vampirism is an all or nothing thing it seems. But, drinking my blood did have an unusual side effect for Bobby."
"What was dat?"
She crushed her cigarette out in the ashtray. "You know the bond we had while I was feeding from you? Where I could read your thoughts?" When he nodded, she continued. "It created something like that, but worse. Not only could we communicate telepathically, but I could manipulate him."
"Manipulate him?" Remy repeated, frowning.
She nodded. "Please, Remy, keep in mind I had no clue what I had done. I didn't do it deliberately. Hell, I didn't even know it existed. But bonding someone to you is a tricky thing. It should never be done in haste, or by someone who has no clue what they are doing. The vampire should do certain things if they want to make sure the person just bonds to them, and doesn't become a mindless slave. I didn't know anything about that." She stopped speaking and leaned forward, resting her forehead on her knees, looking miserable.
"Chere, it was an accident," Remy said softly, reaching out and stroking her hair. "I know you din' mean to do it."
"If I hit someone with a car and they die, they're still dead no matter if it was an accident or deliberate," she said, sniffling. "God, Remy, I was such an idiot."
"We all do stupid t'ings. Quit beating you'self." His voice was gentle, but there was a hint of an order in it. He did not want her tearing herself apart. "So, Bobby an' you were bonded?"
"Well, I think Bobby was bonded to me more than we were bonded together," she said. "He became different. All he wanted to do was be with me. If done correctly, a bloodbond can be a very intimate, experience between two beings. Done wrong and you've basically turned someone into a zombie."
"So what 'appened? What did he become?"
"Stupid." She frowned. "He couldn't focus on anything. I'm sure the fact that I was wandering around during the day wasn't making it easier. Normally, a vampire sleeps through the day, so if they bond to a mortal, at least the mortal has those hours where they feel like themselves. Poor Bobby didn't have that. All I had to do was think about him, just in passing, and he would become obsessed with being with me."
"As you might guess, it didn't take long for me or the X-Men to figure out something was wrong with him. I suppose that while being in the middle of some major save-the-world battle with other powerful beings and suddenly seeing your teammate just blank out and try to drift away would tip anyone off that things weren't quite right. And I sensed something was wrong too. Bobby wasn't Bobby anymore. I can't explain it right, but trust me; you could see the difference. We didn't talk much, or when we did, it consisted of Bobby agreeing with everything I said and staring at me with these vacant eyes. Lord, if I knew then even a fraction of what I know now, I could have helped. I could have given him back his free will. I could have destroyed the bond completely if it came down to that."
"But you din'," Remy said.
"That's for sure." She looked away from him. "Now I have to speculate a bit, because I don't know exactly what happened on his side of things. I was trying to avoid Bobby, thinking that if I did, he'd snap out of it. That didn't help, it just made him worse. Finally, the professor probed his mind to find out what was wrong. Well, he found it. Me. I guess that baffled the hell out of him, but he figured he had better do something, or Bobby might end up drooling in some corner, mumbling my name repeatedly. So, he found the area where the bond was and ripped it out of his mind. In the process of doing that, he managed to erase every memory he had of me."
"Merde," he swore softly, under his breath. "Drastic steps."
"Yeah, but necessary, I suppose. Charles had no idea what he was dealing with."
"What 'appened to you?" Remy asked.
"I felt like someone was tearing me apart," she said, calmly. "It happened early one night as I was heading home from a rehearsal. Suddenly it felt like something in my head was being torn to bits. My nose and ears started to bleed and I passed out. A vampire's mind doesn't work the same as a normal mortals. If I had been a complete vampire, Charles never would have been able to do what he did. It woudn't have worked. He ended up hurting Bobby really badly with his little mental lobotomy, from what I have discovered. Bobby was in a coma for over a week."
A low whistle came from Remy. "Brutal stuff. But what 'appened to you? Did you just pass out in de middle of de street?"
"Sort of." A wry smile crossed her lips. "I passed out on the sidewalk."
"An' what happened?"
She drew in a deep breath. "I woke up here."
"Here? In dis cabin?"
She nodded. "On the couch, downstairs."
"How did you get here?"
She smiled. "That's another story, Remy. You wanted to know what happened with me and Bobby."
He chuckled. "You just full of stories, aren't you, Rhiannon."
"Yes." She sighed. "So, now you know."
"Oui." He nodded. "But I still don' know why Scott would hate you so. It's obvious, what 'appened was an accident."
"Scott didn't like me in the first place, remember?" She rolled her eyes. "I interrupted his happy little family. I gave Bobby a playmate in destruction. Suddenly, instead of one mischievous X-Man, he had two. He couldn't whip everyone into his little group of anal-retentive warriors for the cause. And, he always judged me on my past."
"What do you mean?"
"I had a baby when I was twelve, remember? To Scott that meant I must be a raving slut. And I didn't do much to help that image. I'm not bragging here, but I do have a nice body and I never saw the need to hide it."
"You shouldn'," he said, thinking of the other morning when he saw her skinny-dipping in the lake.
"Well, I didn't wander around naked when I lived there, but I usually managed to have over half my skin uncovered." She chuckled faintly. "He used to tell me 'that's no way for a child to dress.'"
"Gesh, " Gambit rolled his eyes, thinking of some of the outfits Rogue and Betsy wore. Unless Rhiannon was prancing around naked, she could not be less dressed than they were at times. "I hope you put him in his place."
She frowned, her eyes clouding. "Yeah. I certainly did."
"Is somet'in wrong?"
"No." She shook her head. "So, now that you know, are you still glad we're friends?"
He nodded. "Oui, Rhiannon. I'm glad we're still friends. Now, if I can just break you of dis habit of runnin' off every time you're confronted wit' somethin' "
She giggled. "I'm getting better. I didn't run when you asked about Bobby today, and I wouldn't have run last night, if Scott hadn't shown up."
He moved closer. "Good point. Are you still tired?"
She nodded. "A bit."
"Lets get some more sleep den." He moved so he was lying on his side. She moved down next to him, so her back was pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her hair.
This time, when she slept, her dreams were pleasant ones.
The song Rhiannon sang to Bobby was Everywhere, by Fleetwood Mac.