Very much NSFW fic continued from yesterday:
Fracture Twenty-Six: Faces of Fear
The pre-trial had demanded that only the survivors come to court. There were still people standing in the aisles, and crowding the rails of the upper gallery.
They all stared at Hess.
Lengthy research revealed that Hess was her true name. She used it, on and off, at various places where no-one had heard of her. She had a dozen other identities, at least. Both her nomadic nature and her personal habits ensured that everyone knew who she was.
Kitty, knowing that the bailiffs would keep her in her seat, watched Mr Murdock. She knew he had a mutant power to see without seeing, so his peculiar gavotte was for appearance’s sake only.
After being lead to the desk, he set up his papers with precision usually reserved for people with OCD. Then he got up and, stick in hand, felt out the dimensions of the court.
_The things we do to look normal…_
There was a solid barrier of adults between Hess and any children, four rows deep. The first row was made up almost entirely of men.
Hess just sat in her place and smiled.
There was a lot of formal blather about who did what to whom before the defence moved to rule Hess incompetent to face trial. On the grounds of insanity. Her lawyer claimed that Hess, too, had MPD.
The court filled with a roar of outrage.
It took ten minutes to get everyone to calm down enough for the court to be heard.
Mr Murdock stood up. “Your honour, I’d like to provide a small demonstration, if you will.”
“Proceed,” said the Judge.
“How many survivors present currently have Multiple Personality Disorder?”
A forest of hands went up. Kurt’s was amongst the multitude.
“Keep your hand raised if you are perfectly capable of acting as responsible as any other member of society.”
No hands went down.
“Just out of interest, your honour, how many hands are raised?”
“Let the record show that at least three hundred people afflicted with MPD here in this court consider themselves responsible for their own actions.”
“I think that’s pretty much blown Frau Hess’ argument out of the water,” said Mr Murdock.
The next argument in the case was that Hess was arrested under a mistaken identity, which was also blown to bits by some thousand-odd depositions from her victims about who, exactly, she was.
Thirdly, the defence tried to move that the survivors were too mentally unstable to stand questioning at trial, let alone with nothing between them and Hess but a few pieces of furniture. Mr Murdock kindly pointed out that all of the survivors were currently in the court, and only a few of the youngest ones were actively crying.
He couldn’t tell that Bluebelle was shaking like a leaf.
Nevertheless, he requested that those who didn’t feel brave enough to withstand personal testimony submit one by video.
The defence knuckled under and a date was set.
Evidence was still being gathered from her numerous homes. Bodies being identified, and so forth; so Hess wouldn’t be facing trial for a while.
That gave everyone plenty of time to make up their minds.
*
Hess gave an interview to the media. It was not as exclusive as Kurt’s, but it was certainly insane.
She claimed she was an artist, taking the unworthy from the world and showing them their true nature. Those who passed her tests were allowed to survive. Those who failed her - well, there were more than enough bones in her past homes, as well as her trophies - to testify to what happened to the ‘failures’.
She repeatedly referred to Kurt and Bluebelle as her 'pets’ or her 'property’. Once, she called Bluebelle a 'whelp’ that he 'sired’.
Kurt turned her and her ranting off. No-one objected.
*
Jamie looked up from his book and saw the little face vanish behind the doorway again. He had to smile. Bluebelle *was* kinda cute, despite the fact that she was both a girl and only seven years old. He wanted to take her out for ice cream. Maybe even a movie.
He ducked behind his chair before she peeked again, leaving his book on the arm.
She was a lot scared of people in general and him in particular. As far as he understood things, his new-found non-hatred of girls as a species had caused a couple of his clones to try something. Details were unspecified, but after Kurt, Scott, Ray, Roberto, the Professor *and* Logan had come by to tell him to keep his duplicates “under control” he got the idea that one or a couple of him had kinda scared her.
More than a bit.
Jamie risked a peek. Bluebelle was peeking back from behind a potted Aspidestra, her eyes sparkling. He instantly hid and he heard Bluebelle giggle. He had to stifle a snicker himself.
It was working. She was getting more confident.
He peeked again, and found her looking back over the edge of a couch. This time, they both giggled as they hid again.
Three potplants and a wing chair later, she was crouched on his chair and staring at the pages of his book with a confused and worried frown on her holographic face.
“Hello,” he risked, voice barely above a whisper.
The effect was electric. Bluebelle jumped back with a squeak, dropped the book, and bolted clear across the room for the safety of an ottoman for cover.
Jamie felt like tearing out his hair. _Stupid, stupid, *STUPID*! How dumb can I *get*? I should have waited until she saw me…_ Only his stupid lame mutant alleged 'power’ stopped people beating up on him for being such a dumbass. It still didn’t stop Ray playing 'dunk the squirt' in the boys’ bathroom if Jamie 'got annoying’, and he got it worse if he tattled.
Jamie sighed. What was he going to do *now*?
He risked a peek. He could see the edge of Bluebelle’s foot. Still behind the ottoman. He hid and counted silently to twenty. He had an idea.
He risked a little peek out from behind the other side of his chair, through the foliage of another potplant. She was watching his chair. Slowly, carefully, he crept out from behind his usual side and reached for the book. Then he 'noticed’ Bluebelle watching and retreated behind his chair with a whimper.
Jamie started counting to twenty again. He got up to fifteen before her face emerged around the edge of the chair. He shrank away. “You're not gonna hurt me, are you?” he asked.
Her hand hid a smile. “No,” she giggled.
“You’re sure?”
This time, it was a little chuckle. “Yes…”
“It’s only 'cause you’re awful pretty,” he said. “Dad always said pretty girls’d only hurt me.” Actually, that was a lie. Dad never said much, even when he was sober. When he *did* say something, it was usually to give him so many chores that Jamie often wished there was more of him. On the day it finally came true, Dad went kind of nuts, and Professor Xavier and Ms Munroe had picked him and a dozen of his clones up from the roadside, where they were huddled together for warmth. He'd really picked up most of his wisdom from television and movies, and made up a Pretend Dad who was wise and gentle and kind and gave good advice. It helped keep the nightmares away, sometimes.
Bluebelle covered her mouth with both hands and shrank back to where she’d come from.
Jamie risked a peek. She was sorta curled up and trying not to giggle, her holographic face was pink. Her eyes found him and she made a kind of mask over her mouth with both hands.
“If I come out,” he hazarded, “are you gonna run away?”
Bluebelle stared at him. Her face dropped, and then her hands did. She looked confused.
“Only - nobody wants to play with me, here. I’m kinda lonely…”
Her voice was real quiet and soft, like she was scared of making any kind of noise. “I won’t run away.”
“Promise?”
“Well…” Bluebelle scratched her arm. “I can *try*…”
That was good enough for him. Jamie grinned. He emerged by degrees. "I’m sorry about my duplicates. Despite what everyone thinks, we don't share thoughts or anything. I have no idea what they’re doing if I can't see them.“
"Oh,” Bluebelle was looking at the book again. “How can you *read* this? There’s no pictures. You can’t see what’s happening.”
“You sorta imagine what’s happening,” Jamie said. “Like a TV inside your head.”
Bluebelle was frowning. “Show me?”
*
Kurt relaxed the instant he heard Bluebelle laughing. She was safe. Someone was reading to her. Jamie. But he thought Bluebelle was *frightened* of Jamie after a tickle-fight with about thirteen of him… He listened, creeping closer.
Bluebelle seemed to be laughing at the voices he was doing than the actual story.
“’…it’s such a big bag,’ said Malicia calmly, pulling herself through the trapdoor and dusting herself off.
"Kieth sighed. 'How much did you give them?’”
Kurt grinned. Okay, he was kinda funny when he did voices.
“'Lots. But they should be all right if they don’t take too much of the antidote.’
”'What did you give them for the antidote?’
“'Cascara.’”
Bluebelle fell into fits of laughter as Kurt rounded the doorway. He could see her on the carpet, both hands hiding her mouth, and squirming with delight.
“Get a room,” said Kurt. He grinned.
“Daddy!” Bluebelle ran into his arms.
Jamie just kind of cringed.
“Ororo sent me to get to you two. Dinner’s on.”
“Whew,” said Jamie.