Check up (TAG BEAST, CLOSED)

[Kami]

((This happens directly after the thread Fracture))

Cyclop's words still echo in my mind:

"We can no longer pretend it didn’t happen anymore. We WILL face it again, when we are stuck having to answer questions we don’t want asked."

He's sentenced me to the worst, as if to prove his words right off the bat.
I'd rather just go straight to jail, do not pass go, do not collect...
But Mr. Summers has made it clear that I have to go through a follow up exam with Dr. McCoy.
'For my safety', on my new powers and power levels, I am supposed to get this done before I am turned over to civilian law.
I can't do it. I can't.
It was bad enough having to sit through Dr. McCoy patching me up after the fight.
I'm in a lot less pain this time around, and I'll be alone in the room with him this time as well.
I can't do it.
Dr. McCoy is a genius.
It's one of the first things that ever drew me to him... His mind...
I have no doubt the specs he's already seen of my second mutation have him comparing things that could tip him off at any time that it's actually his own work he's looking at.
And to sit still while he's poking and prodding on me for 'medical' purpose... I can't...
The closer it gets to the time I'm supposed to see the doctor, the worse my nerves get.
I've stayed sober this entire time, since before the fight, since the concussion...
I really shouldn't drink with a severe concussion...
Really shouldn't...
I just need to put my folder away.
Grabbing the folder Dr. McCoy recently returned to me, as my excuse, I try to make it back to our room.
I manage to get into the room easy enough, it's not even barricaded. The structural damages were repaired for the most part.
Alice destroyed almost all of our room before we went out for our doomed ice cream trip, But, my bed wasn't crushed under her. I had landed on it when she thrashed everything else, trying not to hurt me.
So everything under the bed is still in tact. And the bottle of 1800 is still in tact as well.
The bottle I was drinking before all of this nightmare started going further down hill, still on my pillow where I'd tossed it.
I sit on my bed, among all the rubble in the room, pulling a box out from underneath, opening it, setting the folder on top of the rest.
I grab the bottle, tossing back a drink. Just one. Loosen me up so I don't just shake into a puddle at the Doctor's feet...
How am I going to answer his questions?
He's got to have an idea just how close my secondary mutation is to his own...
Will he ask about my collar?
I don't think I could bear telling him anything about it...
He is not my Master. I can't let him touch it. I don't want him to know anything about it.
I take another drink off the bottle, lost in my own thoughts, the tinge of panic releasing a bit now.
I needed a drink.
Of course, my concussion's not fully gone, but a drink can't hurt.
Just a small one...
I take a decent swig from the bottle, enjoying how it burns all the way down, as I flip my folder open on top of the rest of the stuff in the box.
I use my claws to pick through the pages, my eyes blurring enough that I can't read the words.
It doesn't matter.
I know what they say.
They say I love him.
They say how sweet he is. How brilliant he is. How beautiful he is to me...
And he read it all.
I take another drink, before closing the folder, putting the lid on the box, and pushing it back under the bed, in the middle of all the rubble.
I take one last drink of the bottle, before tightening the cap, pushing it under the pillow at the head of the bed.
MM.. Much better.
O.K.
I can do this.
I just need to... Hell I don't know what I can do, I have no idea what questions he's going to throw at me.
But. I don't have much choice. I need to go. Get this over with.
I leave the room, shaking some of the dust off my fur as I head down to the sub basements.
I stop just outside the med-bay door, letting out a huge sigh.
I can do this.
It's not my Master in this room.
And even if Dr. McCoy has some idea of things... It's still not him.
I breath deeply, steadying myself some as I finally go in.
I glance at the floor at his feet. A practiced move, giving him my attention, without looking at him.
I don't think Dr. McCoy is going to enjoy it as much as my Master did.
It takes allot to speak at all, but I manage a bit of a greeting,

"Doctor."

[Beast]

Sometimes its best just to focus on your work.

Thats a fact I've learned from long long experience. People, the reactions between them, their interplay and games, and strife...they're really far too chaotic to be understood with any degree of certainty. Even the attempt breeds frustration...Particularly when women are involved.

Scott and the girls' argument rings vaguely in my ear, playing against the latest of several migraines I've experienced since...whatever it is that happened...Odd given that I never really had problems with them in the past...but Focussing on the fact hurts, so I deal with other matters.

Kami's checkup seemed to be right at the top of Scott's to-do list, so of course thats the first matter I consider, knowing that its something I'll have to deal with in the near future.

Preperations are simple enough, just pulling up her file, and the new data from her latest bioscan, pulling on a fresh labcoat, and putting the medlab back in its proper order. All simple enough matters that give me time to consider her in more depth. Though I admit to some degree of intellectual curiosity about her secondary mutation I'm also mature enough to recognize an element of attraction in it too...its so very infrequent to encounter a mutant with a changes like my own...and hers are remarkably similar indeed...Indeed apart from the taxonomic distinctions we might possess the same exact genetic precurser...I wonder if we have any shared genetics...

A quick look at her file says no...not to any traceable degree. Of course my own mutation was artificially induced...Its possible she might have run into a varient of the formula, although given my own failure to reproduce it in a viable form I don't see how...

Thoughts of her genetics slide away though as I consider her image though, passing into somewhat warmer feelings as I admire her beauty. I've never been particularly attracted to other anthromorphs before but there's something about her thats different, even in the image, an almost wounded look in her eyes that makes me want to hold her, the soft smile lines around her muzzle, creased now with a frown, even the way her humanoid hair blends seemlessly into fur...

Not that it matters...I've pretty much accepted what I look like, but judging from her image displacer usage she has not...she probably thinks me even more a monster than she did as a human...the poetic expressions of her songbook notwithstanding...

Reverie files away as I hear the familar sound of the door opening behind me, and I turn to face Kami, instinctively clicking away her image as I do, like a guilty son looking at naughty pictures. Romantic musings take a backseat as my nostrils take in her scent, noting the strong odor of alcohol on her breath, almost overwhelming in its scent. She must have downed at least a bottle before coming her...she'll be on the floor in 10 minutes...

"Erm...Hello Sheena...Have a seat...You seem slightly...amiss...is everything okay?"

Stupid question really. She just had a fight across half of the Frisco bay, got chewed out by one of the worlds leading heroes, and has a concussion and fairly major injuries to boot...But its better than flat out asking why she's drunk...which is what I really want to say.

[Kami]

He stammers a bit in reply to my greeting, his reaction, and his words stunning me from my practice moves, and I can't help but drag my eyes up from his feet where I was staring, up to his face.
I move to sit down as he said, my mind already wandering over how to answer his first question.
I look down at myself a moment, mouthing the word 'Amiss', only noticing the bits of dried sand from the beach still lingering in places in my fur, before looking back up at him, my mouth opening as I try to answer him, but nothing comes out as my mind goes completely blank.
My mouth snaps shut and I clear my throat, before trying again, finally answering with what ever falls out of my mouth,

"No. Not really.
But I'll have plenty of time to meditate about it."

Lots of time, in fact. In a small room all by myself.
Away from all of this...
My ears where turned down when I came in looking at the floor, but now that I'm looking at him, and the alcohol is relaxing me, they perk up, and some bizarre detached part of my mind jumps saying this really isn't him.
He doesn't hold himself the same way, his facial expressions are much more relaxed and less rigid.
And, his heart rate, is 5 bpm less...
I chuckle at that realization, suddenly, things seem so simple.

"You're BF is 25. Which for your body type, is actually healthier.
But, I'm the one here for a check up I suppose."

I hold out the brace he gave me for my hand,

"Sidney really did help allot by boosting my healing factor. I don't need this."

It's true too. My hand is pretty much healed. Allot of the bruising and cuts are also close to healed, hard to see through my fur.
The concussion doesn't seem so bad. I'm not nauseated anymore.
Nope.
Being nauseated, would be very bad right now.
You don't understand the meaning of the word burn until you've had 1800 mixed with stomach acid coming up through your nose.

[Beast]

This has every possibility of becoming more difficult than I had anticipated.

It takes a moment for Kami to even answer, my vocabulary aparently rendering her speechless for the briefest of moments...an odd circumstance indeed for a young lady who rarely excels at silence. She must be farther gone even than I'd thought...

After a moment though, she manages to clear the cobwebs to speak though, and even as I take some time to decypher the words, I notice the stronge scent of liquor on her breath...Tequila...High proof at that, probably not an american vintage either. Jose Quervo if I had to make a guess.

She speaks about meditation, and that at least pleases me. With as dark as withdrawna s she's been of late its good to hear that she hasn't fully abandoned her spiritual roots. Thats a positive sign at least.

The other part is a bit more confused though, she comments on my 'BF' and I have to take a moment to reason that one out. Obviously not boyfriend, and probably not bifurcated? Ahh...breathing frequency of course....Thats even the proper range for my at rest rate, although most humans would probably think they were having a heart attack to have their heartrate this high. Its nessecery given my...unuusal genetic traits though, and I'm fairly used to it.

It does raise an interestign question though. Pulling out a pen flight I flash it across her eyes, checking dilation as I speak, questioning her in the manner of a doctor, and trying to put aside her current physical state. Not even sure how I can diagnose the state of her concussion with as much alcohol as she's consumed....

"Hmmm...Are you registering my breathing frequency based upon enhanced auditory senses, or as a result of refining your kinetic sense? As to your physical condition...that has little to nothing to do with this examination. I simply don't have enough information to properly treat you as you are now, and this checkup is to rectify that situation..Although I am certainly glad I don't need to diagnose your medical condition, given your current state....You should not be consuming alcohol prior to medical exams...ecspecially just after trauma. Not everyone is Wolverine..."

[Kami]

He moves to shine a light in my eyes, and I struggle not to pull back from it, trying to concentrate on his words.
He asks how I came about my figure on his breathing, noting the two most viable ways quickly, before not even responding to the brace, telling me I'm not here for the injuries.
His last words about drinking before a medical exam reminding me that I should have thought about covering my breath.
Even the slightest drink would be detected by his senses this close.
My first response is a sound, something between a giggle and a huff.

"I'm not Wolverine. That's why I made sure it was a small drink."

I use my previously injured hand to show about a half an inch between my thumb and forefinger.
I push past the unimportant part to answer his question,

"I could do it with my senses. They are about 25% as acute as your own. Better than human. But not the best at that. So, still not Wolverine."

I giggle at the thought.
I know everything about my changes. My Master kept an ongoing study at all times. He didn't hold any secrets on my changes.
I wouldn't have gotten better for him, if he had.

"If I took the time to do that, it'd take at least 3 minutes. I'd have to focus and count the breaths, and then do the math for the figure.
But my Kinetic sense developed, I can be more instant with the answer.
I sense the Kinetic flow, and as long as I understand the form of measurement, I can answer immediately. Cuts out the time in counting."

I tilt my head a bit, looking at him, the alcohol numbing me as it continues to hit, loosening my tongue even more as I start to feel some amusement in the situation.
All of the worry and stress on the way in washed away in the tequila.

"So, we're not here for the injuries. We're here because you don't know my physical condition.
I know everything."

My Master taught me all of it.
But you aren't him. So you don't know!
I smile, though it's not a drunken smile this time. It's a more sadistic curving just at the corners of my mouth.
I'm taunting him now. In subtle ways.
He has no clue what's going on, and all that does is make me want to pick some more.
Keep proving he's not my Master.
My Master knew Everything about me.
And Dr. McCoy just admitted, he knows nothing.

"What do you want to know Dr. McCoy?
My second mutation is the result of genetic testing.
I have gained enhanced senses, a low level healing factor, my bone and muscular structure has been changed.
I have fur instead of hair. Well. Except for what's on my head.
My current BF is 20. My ideal BF is about 22.
I've got a higher control on my Kinetic powers. Not just the sense part of it.
I've never exploded like I did today.
But I've got a more fine tuned control on the opposite spectrum."

My entire body language shifts, as I look in his eyes, slowly, almost seductively, (if it wasn't for the slight drunken edge to my movement), I raise a fingertip to rub over the chest of his lab coat,

"Bet I can make you're heart race."

And I do. Kinetically speeding up his blood flow a tiny bit, causing his heart to move faster to keep up.

[Beast]

WHen Kami responds to my question the previous hesitaiton of before is gone, replaced instead with an odd ill humor, and an edge the origins of which I do not quite understand.

It starts easily enough with a flippant, but not unamusing response to my comment about her reistance to alcohol, though just form the tone I can tell what she says is a lie...if the state she's in was not enough of a sign.

As she continues to speak though, Kami's whole attitude begins deteriorate, responds, the alcohol in her system doing its best to rob her mind of its natural inhibitions, and push her into a most unbecoming state. Whats more, what she says bears with it an enigmatic resentment, the origins of which I'm still in the dark to.

She explains that although her secondary does have physical traits this is not the basis for what she did...and more spills the provebial beans that it is not natural in origin....Not natural? Hrmmm...

I consider the words as I find her hand against my chest, her words seductive and taunting all at once, even as my blood race, increasing the pounding of a headache that has allready started to manifest itself. The same sort of headache that has become all too common when I consider things like this...if only I could focus....

Feeling anger surge within me from her actions, and my own frustration, I push away her hand, snarling out to her more harshly than I might have intended.

"That is quite enough! Get ahold of yourself young lady...You are a student at this school, and you will not use your powers on teachers in this manner. You're drunk and out of control, and if you don't pull youself together I shall restrain you until you can."

I frown to myself as I consider my own words, the roughness of them, the tone...its quite unlike how I usually act...it could be a side effect of the bloodflow, but...

"ghhhh.."

I give a gasp as the pounding in my head suddenly increases a hundred fold, like a migraine arising without warning, almost buckling me.

Wihtout thought I move back, seating myself at my table, trying to push away the pain, to refocus, rubbing my temple as the thoughts pound within me...feeling a rush of images flit past my eyes, a number pushing through my mind.

"319?"

What the devil is that....Turning my gaze to Kami I frown, trying to piece together the number I saw. It was on a metal place, against a glass pane...something was behind it...Someone?

Pushing the thoughts away I turn my gaze to Kami, trying to get back to where we were, to push past this.

"I...Appologize...I'm afraid I've been rather overworked of late...Just lay down on the table, and we'll commence the scan. Try and get this wrapped up as soon as possible. You really should get your rest...particularly in your current state."

No doubt the words ring as false for her as they do to me but I push them forth anyway, trying to cling to something, anything to draw attention away from the pain welling in my head, feeling it fade as I focus on other matters.

[Kami]

He pushes my hand away, snarling in reaction.
I don't really hear the words, it's all in the tone.
He's angry, and he sounds just like...
My body reacts before my mind has any idea what it's doing.
Months and months of intent training makes it all instinct, motion, and by the time my brain catches on to what I'm doing, it's too late.
His tone all by itself caused me to instantly assume a more submissive posture, instead of sitting back as I was a moment ago, I merely blink and find myself in the practiced pose of kneeling on the examination table.
It happened so fast, and so... unconsciously, I didn't see it coming. I had no way to stop it.
I shudder as he lets out an exclamation of pain, that sound too more familiar in other settings than this one.
I was trained to hold this position until told by my Master to do anything else, and I feel stuck, my body not responding to my mind as I reel in too many sensations and feelings to describe.
He's not my Master. He shouldn't have been able to do this to me.
And... he's not my Master.
I'd give everything to have my Master here, interrupting this stance with a physical blow, spouting off my place to remind me.
But I know he's not here... it won't come.
And Dr. McCoy is still oblivious, retreating to his desk in pain, not even noticing me at this point.
I have a small wonder if I pushed him too hard.
I know what his body can take. in the Kinetic sense, perhaps better than he does. I didn't give him a heart attack.... I didn't...
Even with the alcohol in my system...
Then I hear it. His voice. His voice saying my... name...
I gasp, shocked out of the stance by it.
Blinking, I stare at him, the range of emotions everywhere from elation, shock, and fright, all springing on me at once.
I'm stuck dumb, staring, when every bit of me screams to move. To shake him, to see my Master...
He is in there...
No.
I shake my head, withdrawing a bit as he is on the opposite side of the room. The alcohol moving even deeper into my system.
No. He's not here. It's not him.
I have to stop.
I have to get out of here.
I can't do this.
He starts talking, apologizing, all Dr. McCoy. His tone, his demeanor, all Dr. McCoy.
It isn't him.
It's not fair. It's never him.
It wasn't Dr. McCoy smashing me into that cage, physically claiming me as his own.
It wasn't Dr. McCoy that named me 319.
He has no right to say it.
How did he...
As my mind races, fighting it all, my body numbly goes through the motions of following his words completely.
I need to get of here.
But I can't do anything but numbly lay back, trying to deny the very thing I wish I could have.

[Beast]

I I center myself I can feel Kami doing as I've asked, noting that she's quieted considerably. I hope I haven't scared her. Even in her current state, I do care about her, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt our friendship...Ahh well, little to do but press on.

Dutifully, I activate the sensors on the bed, keying through the various diagnostic functions to ensure the machine is working properly. Considerably more advanced that the average CATscan or X-ray machine, this device uses a suite of Electromagnetic sensors to analyze the subject down to the subatomic level. This allows it to extrapolate genetic information, physical alterations, cybernetics, and a host of other useful information.

I step over to the table to watch as the machine begins it work, guide lasers flashing rapidly over Sheena's form in a strobe like pattern, taking her in entirely in a fashion I'd never considered at all erotic until this moment. Something about the stillness of her body, and the way they trace every curve...

How odd to find such a cold machine poetic, but then I've never bound myself to traditional standards of beauty. Is not a well made nuclear containment vessel just as beautiful as a spider's carefully woven strands? Do not both contain an undeniable air of practicality beneath their cooll exterior?

I think I"m starting to wax poetic in my old age.

Absently I watch as the process progresses.

"I must admit Sheena, I'm rather disapointed to find that Scott took your collar. I've seen you use it a few times, and I was hoping to analyze it. It functions as a mutant powe r suppressor, does it not? I've seen a similar product before, produced by the Geonshians, but their tech was terribly unstable, had some nasty side effects..."

I shrug my shoulders, fighting against some unknown force that pushes on me inwardly, stops me from asking the questions I really want to know, from piercing the veil her genetic alteration presents. Sinister? The collar wouldn't be his style. He used pharmaceuticals and gene therapy to bring about the effects he wanted. Technology wasn't his forte. Some expansion of Weapon Plus? Mmmm...just the opposite...they did little in the way of genetic alteration. Most just training existing mutants as they wanted. Unlikely.

As the results start crawling across the display I notice something very odd about the genetic sequence overlayed beside.

"Thats odd...Computer, overlay sample 0001 with this subject's genetic blueprint. Search for similar genetic alteration, particularly is noted in the third iteration."

[Kami]

I've got to get out of here. Why can't I just get up and leave?
Because he told me to lay down... This is ridiculous, he's not my Master, I don't have to listen to him.
But I do... I feel the machine hum to life, the lights starting to scan me, and I lay still, wanting this to end as soon as possible.
He called me by name. He snapped a bit... I pushed him, and I got to see my Master... just a glimpse. but he's in there.
And I have to leave before I'm tempted to push him again.
Dr. McCoy doesn't deserve the horror that my Master would bring him if he knew.
He doesn't deserve to be broken by remembering, the way Alice and I have become.
I can't push him. No matter how much I want my Master, this world isn't his place.
It's not our place.
He steps up to the machine, his scent so close it taunts me as he speaks again, my stomach dropping a bit as he mentions my collar.
I was drunk enough to leave it in the back of my mind, the naked feeling I'm left without it, the feeling of panic I get every time I picture it in Scott's hand.
When he brings it up, it hurts all over again.
He's not my Master. He wouldn't understand it. I don't want him to.
I respond to his question, allowing the alcohol to slur my speech more, not able to keep my responses as clinical and without emotion as I'd like.

"Itssss a a lotttt more thannnn jussst a mutant pow power supresssssor.
It wasss made for me. It can supresss My powerssss."

I have to bite my tongue there. I want to rant how he and Scott don't deserve to look at it any deeper than that.
They just don't understand.
I don't want them to.
He starts to look at the figures, telling the computer what to do, and I have to suppress the urge to make a sound of impatience.
I need to get out of here.
I really just need to get out of here.
I want to push him. I want to have my Master back. My Master would get my collar back. And punish me right, for taking it off to begin with.
I want another drink...
I need to get out of here.

[Beast]

Its becoming readily apparent that I"m not going to be getting any answers out of Kami about all this. Even as drunk as she is, I can tell that she's being evasive in the way she answers my questions, avoiding giving too many of the details I desperately want to know.

A part of me, larger than I will admit wants to roar in anger at her, to push her into giving me the information that I want. I've done it before...once or twice, uncaged the provebial beast from within me...But I don't want to with Kami.

I don't want her to see the worst in me. I care about her, perhaps more than I would like to admit.

She hasn't even been with the X-men for a year, and yet it feels like we've known each other forever. She's always been there with me, the lab partner I needed, the backup where required. Present in my mind when we're apart.

Its odd really, having these sort of emotions about a woman, particularly after the problems I've had in the past. I'd given up on love, as the song goes, but aparently its still not through with me.

Love, what a cruel thing. When we first met, I felt an attraction to Kami, but I was not bold enough to approach her with it. I am, as the bigots would say, a freak, and that adds a certain issue with approaching a beautiful young woman with your interests. She never seemed to mind my looks, but it has always been a stumbling block for me.

After the mansion blew up, I thought perhaps, for a moment that the playing field was more even. She was strange now too, and like myself...but it didn't work that way. She's avoided me like the plague since that cataclysm, for reasons that are still not clear, that still aparently hold her tongue to me now...and I can't bridge the gap.

Sometimes I catch her looking at me in the hallways, and it feels like she's looking for someone else...

Preoccuptation stretches out the scane for a bit longer, and by the time I get my thoughts together its allready completed and shut down, all the nessecery information uploaded to the medical files.

I'm done with her now...at least so far as it concerns the medical exam...but perhaps its possible to start another bridge from here. It is certainly worth the attempt.

"I think we're done with the scan now Kami...The nessecery files are all updated, and I think I have everything I need on that front...You may go...but, and I hope you take this seriously, my door is always open if you want to talk. I know this transition to westernly climes has been difficult, but I'm there for you if you need me. Always."

As I speak I start shutting the technology down, moving through the lab with the well oiled motions of well practiced actions, shutting down the scanner, closing out her file..What?

I blink at the screen before me, staring at it as if for the very first time. Listed plain as day on the folders are the listings for my medical records, and sequenced in between Pixie and Psychosis is Kami....319th on that roster.

How very odd...

I turn back to Kami for a moment, about to blurt out the realization of what the number means...and then stopping myself in the last second. She wouldn't understand what I'm talking about no doubt.

Shaking my head, I click on the desktop's shutdown tab, watching as the system slogs off and shuts down, feeling a tumult still building in my head, aparently not satisfied with the pain it has caused me thus far.

I have a feeling this mystery is only going to deepen.

[Kami]

When will this be over?
I need a drink...
With him silent, the machine doing it's job, I have nothing to do but sit here still, and wait.
It seems to take forever, and finally he says we're done.
He continues to talk as he moves, telling me to take him seriously, and goes on to tell me I can come to him always.
I watch his body move fluidly through the lab, turning off the machines, putting everything back in order.
Things I used to do for him.
I hate being on this side of the table, in so many ways.
I have to drag myself up off the table, my ears turned down a bit as I contemplate his words.
He's still trying to make amends for yelling at me a bit ago.
I stand up, giving him the only words I have as a Goodbye.

"I'll miss you."

It's only half-honest.
I already miss him. I have for longer than I care to think about.
He turns as if he's going to say something, and then doesn't, his attention back on the read outs, and I turn to leave him to all the figures he's looking over, my thoughts a bit dread on what he saw on those figures that gave him that excited look in his eyes.
He has too much information.
But. There's little I can do about it.
After giving into the alcohol in my system, I don't care enough to. It's not going to matter. I'll be gone soon enough.
Leaving the lab, I stagger a bit as I make my way back to the old room.
I need a drink. I don't care about my concussion.
I get inside, moving to the bed, reaching for my bottle first, taking a long drink, hissing a bit as it burns all the way down, warming my stomach, making my mind swim.
There is a pounding in my head, probably the concussion adding to my drunk, but I ignore it, drinking more.
This is the last night I'll really get to have a drink.
Might as well live it up.
I end up just sitting there on the bed in silence, among the rubble that started my morning.
I've managed to traumatize my best friend, Hand my collar to another, forced my Master to speak my name through the body of another... And I'm going to jail for it all.
I'll be alone.
With the bottle gone, I just toss the empty into the rest of the rubble.
I reach under the bed, to investigate what's left, the remaining scraps of a life I don't have anymore.
My box, of course. Filled with small pieces of who I used to be.
My Axe in it's case.
Not much left. But I never brought much with me to start.
I heft the box under one arm, wincing slightly as I lose my balance, the alcohol muting everything, like moving through a haze where the world isn't stable, always moving contrary to my own navigations.
Grabbing my Axe's case by the handle, I leave the rooms, heading to the hanger.
Drunk as I am, I get turned around a few times, before finally managing to reach my destination.
Alice and I were told the Hanger is to serve as our room, as we thrashed our own, and She's already here, asleep, fitful sleep, In her large size.
I try to stumble around quietly, moving toward my Jeep.
I open the back, using my powers to lightly move things to fit the stuff, closing it with just a click of noise.
I head over to the driver's side, climbing into an old seat I haven't seen in a long time.
After my parents died, I sold everything, and jumped in this Jeep, leaving Seattle behind for New York, with my band.
This Jeep was all I ever had as a steady roof over my head, for years, before I ended up in the mansion.
I pull the lab coat Dr. McCoy gave me from the back seat, rolling it up as a pillow, inhaling his scent from it, as I lay my seat back.
I shouldn't fall asleep without my collar on.
But it's been such an exhausting day.
I'll just rest my eyes.