I don't own the X men.

The Power of Touch

Chapter 8 – Under Open Skies

She'd managed to graduate – but that wasn't saying much. They'd moved immediately after. They were back on the road again. They'd taken down the Church – with the X-Men's help no less, but now they were off again. This time she had a driver's license and a car to drive. Dana was strapped into the back seat, and her little beat up VW was tucked between two of the larger trucks. Victor bought her the car – said it was easy for him to work on – and keep running.

He'd surprised her, helping with the baby, teaching her to drive, almost like a real dad would have done. Hell – he even changed diapers – not without complaining mind you – but he would do it. Right now he was in the lead truck with Erik, they all had radio contact even her little bug. Myst was in the second truck with the doc, and Pyro. Mortimer was in the last truck, pulling up the rear. She barely saw him, and then it was just a nod. He wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't come around if she was near the tent, but she knew he came to check on Dana when she wasn't.

She'd gotten into a habit of disappearing so he could spend time with the baby. It hurt that he didn't want to be anywhere near her but at least he could be near the baby. She was almost eighteen; she'd been with the Brotherhood over a year. Dana was almost nine months old, working on trying to crawl, making little word sounds, chewing on anything in sight, and she didn't want Mort missing any of it. He cared so much for her.

She was going to have to deal with this – and soon. It was tearing her apart. She knew he was hurting – and wouldn't let her do anything to help. She glanced at the young girl sitting in the passenger seat, her dark spiky hair and tattoos almost offensive to Marcy.

"They call you Treasure – why. I don't see no marks?" She glanced up and down the Marcy's bare arms as she drove. Marcy glared at her and then pointed into the backseat.

"There's my mark – got the stretch marks to prove it, Callisto. They call me Treasure because, in spite of the world being against me, I chose to have her, mutant or not. She's the mark, she's the future, not wanna-be's like you." Callisto snorted, but looked back at the baby cooing in the back seat with a little more respect.

"So is the daddy mutant?"

"Nope – just some jerk I knew in high school, before my own mutation developed."

"Did you tell him?"

"Nope."

"Good for you – normal like him don't deserve a baby like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I can sense mutation – its part of mine. She's powerful – class five or higher – empathy, projective. She'll be able to make ANYONE feel what she wants them to feel – groups too – especially groups, as long as she uses music."

"Music?"

"Her power's tied to music. She'll control people through music."

"Well – I guess we need to come up with a name for her then." Marcy said quietly.

"What about Siryn?"

"There's one of those at the X-Men school."

"Shit."

"What about Muse." Marcy suggested.

"Or Bard."

"Or Thespis."

They kept at it all the rest of the trip, finding names for musical women in mythology or history.

"Or Ellenore."

They were still at it at dinner, even Mystique smiling at the two young women.

"Or Calliope." A soft voice said behind them. Marcy turned and smiled at Mortimer. He just nodded at her, before walking away.

"Calliope it is."

"Who exactly are we trying to name?" Myst finally asked.

"Dana."

"What?"

"She's an empath – a strong one, and will be tied to music with her power." Callisto said.

"Well – that answers one question." Mystique said smiling.

Marcy wasn't paying that close attention, she was watching Mortimer walk across the camp to where he'd put his bedroll. He wasn't even using a tent, and was as far from hers as he could get. She tried to stop the single tear that traced down her face, but Mystique saw it.

"This has gone on long enough." She said under her breath, Marcy barely heard her.

"I'm going to take a walk." Marcy said softly, "Would you watch Dana – or take her to Mortimer for a while?"

"No – you take her to him – while you are there, use this board on his HEAD." Myst grumbled.

"What board?"

"The two by four you are going to have to hit him with. Better yet – leave Dana here – and borrow this." Mystique held out a slip of fabric – slip was right, it was nothing more than a slip, with the sides cut out.

"Whoa – I thought you were against this."

"Damn it – you are both MISERABLE – who the hell am I to stand in the way of 'true love' or hot lust for that matter?" Callisto just stared at both of them.

"No – I'll just get out of his way so he can see the baby – it's her he cares about." She walked off, in the opposite direction of where Mortimer was setting up his small camp. The ground was damp from a storm that afternoon and the forest was quiet, she found a nice quiet spot away from camp and sat down on a rock on the edge of a creek bed, just watching the sunset. She wanted him to have time with Dana.

The sun was almost down, and she'd have enough light to get back to camp before it was all the way down when she got up to head back. The ground gave way under her feet and she slid down the embankment. She twisted her knee on the way down and landed in the cold water. She moaned a moment and then looked around. The clay bank was too slick to get a hold on, and the water wasn't deep enough to swim so she was going to have to try to climb out. She stood, and nearly fell again when she couldn't put any weight on her leg. She looked around for a stick, something she could use as a crutch, but didn't see anything.

She just shrugged – and using the bank itself, hobbled along until she could make it up onto dry land. She lay there a few moments, gathering her strength to try to make it back to camp. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, especially since the light was fading fast. She groaned and pulled herself upright against a tree. She hoped she'd be missed soon – hoped someone would come looking for her. She took a directional reading from the setting sun, and took off in the direction she thought the camp was in, hobbling from tree to tree.

The forest grew darker, but she didn't panic. She'd been with the Brotherhood long enough to know someone would come looking for her; she just needed to get near the camp area and shout for help. Victor would probably be able to hear her from here, but she wasn't going to waste energy yelling yet.

"MARCY!" She heard a very familiar voice shouting.

"Over here." She shouted back. It was Mortimer. He came charging through the underbrush.

"Are you alright?" He grabbed her by both shoulders, shaking her. She hissed in pain as he jostled her knee.

"No – I twisted my knee." She said.

"No other injuries?" He asked.

"No."

"Good – WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING GOING OFF LIKE THAT?!" He shook her with every word, jarring her knee. He yanked her against him, kissing her punishingly.

…SCARED THE HELL OUT OF ME! And I KNOW you are picking this up – damn it. I LOVE you – you idiot, that's why I've been avoiding you, I didn't want THIS to happen.

His hands were rough, demanding, his mouth didn't give her any quarter, and he continued lecturing her with his mind.

DAMN it I'm too fucking old for you – no matter what you might think, too fucking old – too fucking ugly – too fucking disgusting. I've heard it all, I don't need to hear it from you too - I think that would kill me. FUCK – MARCY tell me to stop – tell me you don't want this. PLEASE.

LIKE HELL! If I'd know this was what it was supposed to feel like – I NEVER would have let Ted touch me. GOD MORTIMER!

She moaned against his mouth, letting his hands tell her exactly how much he needed her. She didn't even notice when he gently laid her down on the soft moss on the ground, just noticed his body covering hers, as his hands slid under her shirt.

"Marcy." He said with a strangled moan – the cry in her mind was just as desperate.

"Mort – please." She whimpered.

He pulled back, startled by the word.

"Damn. I'm sorry." He groaned as he lifted himself off her. She reached out to stop him but he pulled away from her.

"Don't." She wanted to scream – wanted to cry. He simply picked her up.

"You are hurt. I need to get you back to camp." He said stiffly.

"Not until we settle this. Damn it – I love you." She said.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!" He shouted.

"Yes I do – how can you say that?"

"You are sixteen – barely able to drive – you don't know what love is – what sacrifice is – what pain is." She didn't know if it was in her mind or in her ears.

"I'm almost EIGHTEEN – and who's the PARENT here – you or me. Who gave up a comfy bed in a mansion just to keep her baby, who has followed you guys around – dragged halfway around the world, just to be with the people she cares about – while PREGNANT no less. WHO gave birth in the back of a TRUCK while being chased by the FRIENDS of HUMANITY for FUCK'S SAKE?" She shouted back at him.

"Marcy." His voice was strangled.

"I LOVE you, Mortimer. I don't know how to make you see it. I love the way you look after me, and yet let me make my own mistakes – let me learn and grow. I love that of all the people who tutored me – you were the one who made sure I knew WHEN I screwed up – and why – and how to fix it – you didn't fix it for me. I LOVE that you were the one who knew what was wrong when I was pregnant – and found the ways to fix it."

He nearly dropped her. He stopped in shock.

"You WHAT?"

"I love you. I love the way you cradle Dana – I love that you wish she were yours – so do I."

"You do?"

"Yes – you asked why I took off like that – I took off so you could spend time with my daughter since you didn't want to spend time with me." She wiped her tears off with the collar of his shirt.

"Don't want – DAMN it WOMAN I want nothing more than to spend time with you. It just isn't RIGHT that I want to – you are a KID for fuck's sake."

"A kid with a kid of her own – I think that makes me at least legally an adult." She said with a sharp quip.

"Legal schmegal –I don't give a rats fuck about legal. I'm thirty six years old – TWICE your age - that just ain't right."

"I don't give a shit – why should you?"

"Because I do."

Because I'll be old while you are still young – and I'll lose you to some younger guy, and I couldn't stand that pain. Because you are so good and kind and would give your youth to an old man like me – and regret it later.

"No I wouldn't – I wouldn't regret a thing. You are the one I want to be with – no one else."

He didn't say a word the rest of the way back to camp.

"You found her!" Myst exclaimed as he carried her up to her tent.

"Keep her in camp from now on." He grumbled and turned to walk away.

"Mortimer – please." She said softly. He glanced back, but kept walking. She just sat there, and sobbed, cradling Dana close. Mystique and Callisto both tried to find out what happened, but she didn't say a word.

Doctor Peters came by to check on her knee, and put her in a brace for a couple days – which meant Callisto would be driving the bug. Victor came by to check on her, but she didn't say anything, just stared into the camp fire outside her tent, wondering why he had to be so stubborn.

"Where the hell do you want me to put my shit, woman." He muttered behind her. She wanted to spring to her feet, but her knee wouldn't let her.

"Toad, what are you doing." Victor snarled.

"What I shoulda done a long time ago – treatin' her like the woman she is." Creed glared at her, but she just smiled.

"Just in the tent for now – we can repack everything in the morning." Victor just threw up his hands, and Myst gave her a little grin. Callisto just shook her head and took off for her own tent. Mortimer picked up the baby carrier, and settled Dana into her basket in the tent.

Marcy struggled to her feet and with the help of the crutch Dr. Peters left her, followed him into the tent. She smiled at him sitting there, cross legged on the floor watching Dana sleep.

"I love you both – I am so afraid of hurting you." He whispered.

"You can't hurt me more than you have – and we've both made sure you don't hurt her." Marcy said, stretching out on top of the sleeping bags layered on the ground.

"You deserve better than this. You deserve a home – a place to raise her. I can't give you that."

"My home is with my family – and with you. If that's out here – it's out here. Don't try to make me something I'm not. I'm happy with the Brotherhood. Dana is thriving – and I love you."

"But what if – God forbid – it happens again. Can you do it again – like this – with her?"

"You mean with you? We did it once – only you didn't get to have any of the fun." She grinned.

"Good point – that." He glanced over where she was laying, before standing up and grabbing his blankets from the pile of gear he'd dumped on the far side of the tent.

He laid down next to her, tracing her cheek in the dark. She knew he could see her – his night vision was excellent. He just pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

"That fun can wait." He whispered, "I think you need sleep, little momma."