As The World Turns Cold

Pinpoints To You

She tried to sit up against the invisible restraints locking her chest in place, but cringed at the pain. The discomfort had pushed harder against her ribs with the subtle motion and Mercy fell back against the pillows behind her.

She breathed, but it was more of an awkward squeal. She wasn't used to the luxury of outside air. Her lungs were long since corroded by the dank, closed in oxygen of her cage. How interesting the world seemed to be. It was much more painful than she remembered.

At the sound, Rogue had moved closer to ease her into a position that would not put pressure on her chest, but tumbled back when he did nothing more than hurt her more.

"What is it? Is it your ribs? Head? Everything?" He ran a hand violently through his hair. "I want to help you, but I don't know how. If I touch you, I end up hurting you when all I want is to heal you. This whole caring for someone is new to me and I'm not sure I like it but we're allies now. I feel utterly useless and yet you are the one in the worst of conditions." He closed his eyes. "At least the fever went down, there's one thing I've done right."

Mercy looked up at him for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. "I feel as though my chest is constricted and I can't move. Everything in my body is hurting."

She lifted a hand gently to shield her eyes. Did she mention the blinding fluorescent lights caused her head to spin? How did people live like this on a daily basis with bright bulbs blinding them?

"Is it the serum that Dr. Snyde injected me with that's causing this? Or is it my uncanny ability to adapt poorly to an environment that's not a cell for my undoing?" She paused and drew in a sharp breath before asking her next question.

Her chest ached at the sudden, heavy draw of oxygen. Her lungs wheezed in protest at the sharp quality. She had hoped it had been nothing serious, but the way it had affected her earlier had proved her faith wrong.

"Will it kill me?" The sound she heard as she said it was hardly that of grief or fear. It came out as more of an upbeat tone. If she was dead, then other men and women wouldn't be. The underlying question of her family's safety would still be a toss-up, though.

"Your knack for adaptation? Doubtful, give it a few days of freedom and your lungs and eyes will get used to the bright spaces and oxygen-rich zones. The serum on the other hand," Rogue paused, "is something not in my area of expertise."

Rogue shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Taking a breath, he replied. "I'm afraid I don't know. I couldn't get a good look at whatever it was he jabbed into your skin. I was more worried about getting us both out of there."

A sigh fell heavily through his lips. He knelt beside her. "I suppose these days have made me into a fretful old man who's terribly worried about you." He revealed, trying to ease the tension with a lighthearted joke. "I might wake up one day with a full head of gray hair and nagging grumbling each day for making me so withered."

Mercy shook her head, needing him to be serious for a minute. She had never liked jokes. "With all due respect, that's the least of my concerns."

Her voice took on an edge of fear. "If I can't move, the officials will catch up to us in no time and the only moments I've had of freedom are ones of pain and irritation. Last I checked, being free was supposed to be a good thing." She tugged the wet rag off her forehead and rubbed her eyes once more against the harsh lighting.

"Besides, who's to say we don't have any tracking devices in our system? If that's the case, you might as well leave me here to die. It'll buy you some time, at least."

She turned her head to look at the closed-off window paneling. The last time she had seen a window it was a shabby little pane-glass that didn't fare to well on stormy nights. Things had certainly changed since her last moments outside the walls of the compound.

Glancing around, she realized they were in what Mercy remembered to be a hotel room. As she scanned the furnishings, she noticed that the fabric upholstery was frayed and patchy and the walls were painted in a grimy green color that made Mercy feel sick. Rogue had probably found the nearest one he could reach on such short notice. It was a wonder how he had the money to pay for it.

"Where are we?"

Rogue grabbed her fist and rubbed his thumb against the ridges of her knuckles. She grumbled, but didn't withdraw her hand this time. There was only so much energy she could muster, and she didn't want to waste it on pushing him away again. Her heart jolted a little at the human contact.

If it was any other day and this pain was gone, Mercy might have liked the way it made her feel safe and calm. She shivered, but not from pain or low temperatures. Rogue grinned sheepishly at her like he was feeling exactly what she was.

"After everything we went through? I'm not about to leave you here." Rogue paused. "If the serum was going to kill you, it should have happened by now. I'm sure it's a concoction they made to get your heart stopping for a few minutes so they could capture you again." He sighed, moving on to another subject.

"You'll never believe where we were in the first place out there." He paused to gauge her reaction. "Phoenix, Arizona."

She detected the lift of a brow as her mind reeled back in wonder. Phoenix, Arizona? How far away was that? She had traveled to many places when she was on the run but she didn't have a clue about distances. "Is that where we are now?"

Rogue shook his head. "No, I wanted to put some distance between us and the confinement building. Apparently, it was on the complete outskirts of Phoenix. One might never know it was there unless you were desperately searching for it." He dropped her hand and walked to the other side of the room where a map at least three feet in length was spread out against the wooden corner desk. There were red slashes in areas of the map and Rogue had circled several other cities.

"I hope you don't mind," He smiled bashfully at her before returning to his previous thoughts, "I did a little research on you." His fingers glided over the frayed edge of the map. "You're definitely not from around here. I traced back your history and found school records from when you managed to be placed in a school system. Ten years old?" His eyes sought hers. "You were taken away from your family at ten years old?"

She shook her head and growled. "My eleventh birthday, actually." Mercy tried desperately to cross her arms at her chest. She wanted to look angry, but the motion provided more pain than anything else.

She was taken aback that he would go through such lengths to learn about it. It was oddly infuriating and nice. It spawned a new wave of hope in her chest. Her time at the facility made her angry about the whole ordeal, however. She had been studied all her life and she was sick of it. No one should have that kind of power over her. "You researched me? I'm not a test subject! You're just like the rest of them!"

Rogue's smile fell from his lips and he looked pained. "What do you think I could have done? I had no other options! You were in a comatose state. Clearly, I couldn't have asked you about it. So, I took action!" He growled. "I'm trying to help you and the only thing you can do is complain because I researched your past in hopes of finding your parents? Honestly, woman, I'm not some terrible person!" He cursed.

Mercy refrained from another sharp comment that would only elicit more arguing. She huffed, quickly realizing how spoiled and rotten she sounded. Mercy knew she was high maintenance, but being confined for that long didn't exactly make someone develop a chipper, happy-go-lucky persona.

"Sorry." She muttered under her breath.

She felt almost terrible. Mercy didn't know why she was taking everything out on this boy, who was trying to help get her back home to parents who may not even want her in their lives and here she was complaining.

"Did you find them?"

Rogue glared at her for another moment before turning away. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and sighed wearily.

"I did."