An Alternative Cure

[Jozua Cure]

Jozua Cure had spent some time on tip-toe, looking through the small window at the top of the door to her room, delighting in the fact that she knew a person's name as soon as they walked into her line of sight. This was more exciting than the hospital; she had gotten used to the names of the doctors - but those of the few scientists she had seen were more interesting. Every so often, she had become tired, and had to go and rest on her bed.

She recognised it now, the familiar feeling of aching in her legs, and settled her bare feet flat on the cold floor and padded back towards the bed. Perching on the edge of the sheets, rougher than those at the hospital - the facility wasn't exactly a hotel, but then, Jozua had never been to a hotel, so it didn't matter - she took in a few slow, shallow breaths, thin hands resting on angular knees. She had been thin and weak for most of her life, and it wasn't remarkable to the doctors any more; she found it difficult to eat, and that was that.



Despite this, hunger gnawed at her insides, and she gingerly rose, heading to the wall on her left where a basin, mirror and shelf resided. Upon the shelf rested a bowl of red jelly; due to the nature of the treatment she was due to undergo, jelly and water were the only things which wouldn't obstruct the doctor's work. She picked at the jelly with her fingernails, licking up its sweetness and smiling with an odd contentment. After taking what she needed, she washed her hands in the basin, glancing up at her reflection. The mirror showed a twenty-year-old woman with straight blonde hair that fell to her chin, and soft green eyes. Wiping her hands on her hospital gown - near enough the only garment she could remember wearing - she tip-toed back towards her bed and sat on its edge again.

She was in Warsaw, Poland. The trip had exhausted her and she had spend two, maybe three days drifting in and out of sleep, waking to use the bathroom and receive treatment for her ailment. She had been diagnosed with leukaemia just before her ninth birthday and after that, most of her days she found herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and needles and doctors. Her parents had told her she had always been sickly from birth. A premature birth, with a malformed stomach that stopped her eating, and a body so frail she required assistance if she was going outside for any length of time.

She was tired of the illness. Tired of the predictions of her life expectancy, the shock the doctors received when another birthday passed. Twenty years of sickness and sympathy, and the slowly fading love of parents that were supposed to do so unconditionally. They had four others to love and make them proud - Jozua would not be missed.

Yesterday she had told the man who administered her regular treatment that she felt strong enough to meet the doctor. Later that day she had been told that he would see her the next day. Today. Today everything changed.

'You have an X-Gene. A mutation of the genes that seems to be the next evolutionary step of our species.'

Jozua held those words in her mind. That was how she had her power. The doctor had made everything clear. As soon as he had expressed his interest in meeting her and finding out more, Jozua had requested to leave the hospital and travel to Poland. No more mundane hospital treatment - the doctor was talking about experimentation, possibly dangerous experimentation at that. It had sent electricity down Jozua's spine.

He had withheld his name. However, Jozua has realised that it proved no obstacle for her; her power would sort that. She trembled at the thought of meeting someone, with no mutation in his genes, with the ability to change her life. Any moment.

Dangerous. I have nothing to lose. If I die, it won't matter. But maybe, for once in my life, I will have helped somebody instead of burdening them.

She looked up as the door opened, lenaing forward in her eagerness and curiosity. A man she didn't recognise stepped into the room, however the determined look and the quiet thrill dancing in his eyes spoke his identity to her louder than if it had been broadcast over a megaphone.

She couldn't control the smile that her pale lips formed into, parting them as she knew his name, and gently murmured it:

"Doktor Klaus Heidegger."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus looked up from his medical charts and gave the girl a quick glance. "Yes, I am Doktor Klaus Heidegger. I see you have been brought to me due to a lifelong illness. That, along with the special gene that you carry has brought you to my facility for the purpose of finding a means to cure you."

Klaus sat on the edge of the bed by her feet. Klaus' bedside manner with most mutants was atrocious. Then again, most of the mutants in his care were there for his experimentation, not his medical advice. This one, however, seemed to be a harmless mutant. At least, given her frail body and the seriousness of her illness, it was highly unlikely that any ill should befall him.

He would play along for now. Until he could find a way to make her stronger. Then she would take her rightful place next to his other specimens.

"So you have been this way your entire life?" He asked. "We will see what we can do to end that soon."

Klaus tsked as he flipped through the other pages of the chart. "We have mapped out your genetic code and looked through it for any signs that would indicate your disease being hereditary. If your genetic code has somehow given you the predisposition for this illness, it will be uncurable. The best we can do is make it so you can live as close to normal as science can make you. Of course, I will be comparing the X-gene in your code to other X-gene carriers to check for any anomalies there."

Klaus hung the chart back on the foot of the bed and turned to look at Jozua.

"The tissue samples we have taken from your body are still being tested at this time. Until the results come in we will be monitoring you very closely."

An orderly entered the room with the girl's replacement IV bags.

Klaus smirked. He loved to see his breakthroughs put to use. "This bag," he said with pride, "is not your usual assortment of vital nutrients and antibodies. It also includes a serum I created myself with the research I have performed in this facility."

He hung the bag himself and set the IV drip to it. "The serum is based on a mutant I was given to study whose body secreted an oil with incredibly healing properites. As it courses through your body It will help to rid you anything that will hurt you and will help to restore any damage done to your internal organs."

The doktor then lifted what looked like a small oxygen tank from underneath the gurney. "This is the gas form of that substance. I have mixed it with the oxygen in this tank. You will be breathing through a mask for a few days while I complete my tests. It should do something for your lungs."

Klaus set up the tank and held the oxygen mask in his hand. "No doubt you will begin to feel better even after a few hours rest. But please resist the urge to get up from your bed. You will still need great amounts of rest and it is totally impractical to have you cured and walking around with these machines following you for the rest of your life."

Klaus picked up the girl's head as gingerly as he could and placed the oxygen mask over her head. He was greatly pleased with his work and took incredibly excitement at seeing his treatments in action. Anyone would have thought he was showing care and hope for his patient. Klaus only cared for his science.

"Now, sleep a while. I will return in several hours to check on your progress."

The orderly pushed the gurney out of the room and Klaus dimmed the lights a little more before leaving.

[Jozua Cure]

With a drip needle in her hand and a mask over her face, Jozua was easily reminded of the hospital. Trying not to let it upset her, she waited with her eyes open until they adjusted to the lessened light, and then wriggled a little on the sheets. But still, it was painfully similar to being in the hospital; she was in a room on her own instead of being in a ward, but the equipment that surrounded her and the summary by the doctor remained mirrored to her own experience.

I don't feel any better.

Still, the doctor had said that he wouldn't return for several hours - presumably that meant that he wouldn't be expecting any noteworthy results until that time. She had to wait, amuse herself until he came back. She inhaled deeply, trying to smell the mixed air that filled her lungs, and released it, breath steaming the mask's clear plastic. She moved her fingers, trying to feel the needle in her hand. Nothing.

Maybe it happens so much I can't feel it any more.

Sleep. Sleep would pass the time, and Jozua was rather good at it, but the excitement that made her whole body tremble prevented her from doing so. Soon something about her would change; if the serum had the planned effect, her body would become stronger, and the damage that the cancer had caused would be undone. A small smile played on her lips as she contemplated it. She would be able to do the things her sisters had told her about; playing, shopping, partying, meeting others ...

Bored now.

Her mind drifted to the doctor. The gentle touch he had used while placing the mask on her head seemed to be the kindest thing she had felt in a long time. The doctors in America were always careful to make sure that she was comfortable, but her new doctor ...well, having a European man speak to her was oddly comforting. Although he was little like the people she had known in her birth country, he was still distinctly un-American, and she tried to find out what that difference was. It was strange, implacable. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the feeling of his hands on her hair and face. Gentle, light, and ...

He cares for me. He believes I am special.

Something caught in her throat and she released it in a quiet squeak, a thin dribble of liquid escaping the corners of her eyes. With her unhindered hand, she wiped them away. He had not looked upon her with frustration or tiredness. His eyes had shown promise for her, confidence that she would get well. And he had told her to sleep.

And so I sleep.

*

When she next woke, her chest felt tight. A look around the room revealed that she was still alone, however as each increasingly panicked breath became more of a struggle, she wished she wasn't. Rolling from her back onto her side, she weakly groped at her face for the mask. It was still there, but the continuing fight to breathe quickly sapped away her faith in it.

I-It was supposed to help! What's happening ...?

"H-help ..."

Everything felt wrong, and a wave of feelings suddenly crashed down and brought a chilling sensation over her entire body, making her skin feel clammy as cold sweat beaded up on pale flesh. A pang of pain in her right side accompanied sickness bubbling in her throat, and her fingers feebly curled into fair, damp hair as she buried her face into the sheets.

Why isn't it ...I feel so sick ...why is this ...why --

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Just as the Doctor came back, he saw the girl go into fits.

"She's crashing!" The doctor said into a microphone. "Get me a crash cart, Now."

Klaus entered and held the girl down. He didn't understand. The Phoenix Tears and the Phoenix Gas was supposed to weaken the disease. Was it fighting back?

The Doctor removed the mask and hastily pulled the IV from her arm. "Bring me Sample 5YMB10T3."

There was chatter over the speaker and Klaus clenched his jaw. "Do not argue! I have no time to test it! If it doesn't work now, then we won't have the chance to see if it will work later. Regardless, this girl will die soon."

Klaus wrestled the girl down and injected her with a serum to calm her down She had to be still if the sample was going to take.

The orderlies rushed in with the crash cart. One of them had the sample with him.

Klaus motioned for it and opened his hand to receive it. It stood in a petri dish. Every so often it would ripple, bubble or pop. It was by far the most fascinating and frightening thing he had ever created.

Built out of an incomplete sample of Jozua's tissue, he had done a number of alterations to the genetic structure. The main idea was that the tissue, in an attempt to stabilize itself, would find on its own where it could replace itself into the girl's genetic coding. It could not live without the rest of her DNA to support it. With luck, it would do as Klaus had engineered it and replace the portions of her DNA where Klaus had isolated the source of her illness.

"This will be my greatest achievement, or my greatest downfall."

Klaus put on some latex gloves and opened the petri dish. The tissue sample reached up voraciously for his fingers. Resisting the urge to suddenly withdraw his hand, he scooped up the sample onto his fingers and smeared it on the girl's chest. The stuff latched onto her skin and started regenerating at a rate that Klaus found to be alarming.

Terrified, but fascinated he watched it makes its way up her neck and into her throat, nose, and ears. Had he not sedated Jozua it could have become violent.

Klaus dismissed his staff and stood by the bed. Within an hour the sample had covered the girl's entire body, and to the best of his knowledge, her insides as well.

He held up a recordable device. "Onset of Sample 5YMB10T3 one hour."

Then the sample receded into her skin and she looked normal again. "Sample is absorbed enirely into the subject. No noticeable outward change."

Then he checked her vitals. "Heart rate and blood pressure normal. Taking blood sample."

Klaus produced a syringe and drew a sample of Jozua's blood. "Here's to science."

He withdrew from the room with the blood sample to test his findings. With any luck, the disease had been removed.

[Jozua Cure]

Tenderly, Jozua cracked her eyes open. A sliver of light from the corridor outside played across her face, and tiredly she squeezed her eyes shut again, rolling away from the door, taking care to leave the hand attached to the drip outstretched, so it wouldn't pull.

In the next second she jerked up, backs of both hands before her face so she could study them. A tentative inspection of her fingertips tracing over unmarred skin was followed by a sharp, frightened gasp. No puncture or wound. No evidence that she had ever been linked to an IV. Thoughts of suffocating and sickness faintly splashed at the back of her mind, like a shy child with watercolours.

A sudden, sharp image.

"She's crashing! Fetch me a crash cart, now." Hands forced her thrashing body down onto the sheets, and a buzz of blurred words filled her ears ...

Then nothing. Jozua blinked, becoming more panicked by the second as she looked around the bare room. No IV stand, no mask and its tank with peculiar healing gas. Even the jelly was gone from the shelf. Another thought crept into her mind, like a child more confident with watercolours.

Am I ...dead?

Hurriedly, she got up from the bed, padding to the door and rising up onto tip-toe to peer through it. Nobody seemed to be around outside. She knocked on the cold glass, straining to see another human, find a name that she recognised. "Hello?"

No answer. She stayed there for many more minutes, flinching at the slightest sound and alerting herself in the hope that somebody would round the corner and explain why her hands were unmarked, why the equipment had been removed, if there was any possibility of getting some jelly and why she didn't feel tired at all after being out of bed for so long ...

At this thought, she sank to the floor and cuddled her knees close to her chest. She was still as thin and pale as she had ever been, yet somehow stronger. Was this what it felt like to be dead? What a cruel irony, to be sick and close to death throughout life and then feel more alive once she actually passed away. Her stomach growled, and she dug her hands into her hair, tapping her toes against the floor in an effort to divert her thoughts from jelly and fruit. Oranges. She said aloud to the walls, "I really would like an orange."

Even Doctor Heidegger was unable to help me. She let out a long sigh, burying her forehead onto her knees and feeling the bones press against once another. I wonder if I helped his research? ...If I am dead, and maybe a ghost, could I go and see?

She got to her feet, surprised by the ease with which she did so, and turned to face the door. She reached out and tried the handle. Locked. Maybe they don't realise yet. Her fingers spread, and she softly placed her palm flat against the door. It was cool to the touch. Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed against it. Nothing. Maybe I am not a ghost. Or maybe I cannot go through walls. Maybe I am a different kind of ghost. Maybe --

Her thoughts died as an odd sensation spread through her back. Reaching around, she felt the thin material of her hospital gown, and her heart rushed as her fingers found a lump. A lump that moved, pulsated and pulled at her skin, like something from the inside trying to escape. What is this?

Pain lanced through her body like lightning, driving out a shocked scream as she stumbled backwards, hands grabbing at her spine. A second lump had emerged, identical to the first, symmetrical at the blades of her shoulders. Something dark and grey leapt from her arms, bringing with it a spurt of blood which only served to heighten Jozua's terror. More appeared, shooting out only for a split-second before they disappeared back into her body, each leaving the same trail of crimson. Some ripped through the antiseptic coloured gown, staining the ragged holes they left behind, but more was the burning at her back, and Jozua crumpled to the floor with another scream, hands flying to her hair and elbows taking her weight.

Then, peace. It subsided and left only the stinging of the various cuts that laced her body. Gasping for breath, Jozua curled into a ball, head between her elbows as trembling accompanied her tears.

What is happening to me?

The tightness of her skin was released as the distensions tore free in a shower of red, shredding the back of her gown and delivering a bolt of pain so sudden that Jozua couldn't react to it. Hot blood spattered over the walls and ceiling, and in the middle of it all Jozua pulled herself to her feet, glancing over at the mirror which revealed the monstrosity attached to her back.

The two appendages were in the right place for wings, but these were long, bulky and not at all wing-shaped. They jerked and curled, and while they seemed to consist of spiky feathers, Jozua was not convinced that that was what they were. Turning, she saw that the bough-like additions attached to the blades of her shoulders in a spiky manner, one point on either side stretching down to the base of her spine. These were well rooted, it seemed, and would not disappear. Horrified and fascinated, she saw the web of dark lines that covered her back, and looking down realised they were extending to her limbs. Another glance at the mirror revealed that the vein-like marks were twisting upwards on her neck to her face --

She was consumed. Staggering towards the mirror, she grabbed the basin for support, peering closer to try and understand why her the blackness of her pupils seemed to be flooding out into the rest of her eye, until they were as pitch as an animal. A feeling of wildness filled her, a need to stalk and hunt, to defend against anything that might attack. To compete. To fight.

As quickly as the feeling had appeared, it vanished, along with the inky blackness in her eyes and the lines that traced her body. They faded back into chalk-coloured skin, until only the appendages remained. They twitched, and then suddenly reduced their size, shrinking fast until each spanned no more than a foot. The pain that her fascination had dulled swept through her again in full force, sending her crashing back to her knees and violently shaking. She let out a whimper, and searched the room desperately for somewhere dark. Somewhere safe.

The bed caught her eye and she dashed towards it, sliding beneath it and closing her body again, breath coming in shattered pants as the pain subsided. A moment of quiet.

It seemed that she was very much alive.

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus entered the room and noticed immediately that there was a lot of red spattered around the room and Jozua was nowhere to be found.

"Jozua?" He asked. He kept his voice soft in case she was in the room. He didn't want to scare her. Of course, it was also possible that somewhere during the time he was gone something had happened and she died. He'd have to reference the closed-circuit cameras later.

"Jozua?" He called again. "Are you ok? I brought some food and I wanted to ask you a few questions."

The food was on a cart in the hallway. Mostly oatmeal and other soft things. There was also fruit. An orange, an apple. There was also a peanut butter sandwich outside. Water, juice, and even a cola complimented the small feast.

"I would dearly like to see how you've progressed."

[Jozua Cure]

At the sound of the voice, Jozua froze, dark wing-like appendages flaring up before settling flat on her back. Her nose wrinkled as the reek of dried blood attacked in a wave, the crimson crumbling and flaking off her shredded gown, almost destroyed by her transformation. She traced her cheeks and forehead with trembling fingers, found more of it dried on her face, and curled up tighter.

The voice was soft, but she recognised it as the doctor's. It was odd, completely unlike his clipped, professional tone. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

I have questions. What happened to me? Is this my cure? Can you explain? Who am I right now? ...What will I become?

Tentatively, without knowing why, she sniffed the air, and picked up on the freshness of citrus fruit. Oranges. Crawling forward, she came close enough to see a pair of shoes, the legs attached to them and the snowy hem of a lab coat. She could see the dark rivers of her own blood, and something told her that she shouldn't feel as well as she did. Despite the hunger that made her stomach twist, feelings of faintness and sickness were non-existent. She glanced down at her forearms, and to her surprise they were smooth and unmarked. Again, no trace ...

"I would dearly like to see how you've progressed."

No. I am a monster.

Silence. The doctor seemed to have nothing more to say. He was just ...waiting. Hair falling over her face, she retreated back further under her bed, back into darkness and safety. He would not be pleased. Something beyond her knowledge and control had happened, and she couldn't expect anyone to understand or like it.

He knows of mutants, though. Perhaps he can explain. There is nobody else to help me now.

Slowly, noiselessly, she crawled forward, emerging like a butterfly from its cocoon. Trembling from anxiety, she got to her feet, pulling the tattered, stained gown around her willowy frame, trying to retain some modesty. From under her thin hair, she glanced at the mirror across the room in an effort to avoid looking at the doctor, and let out a cry of relief as she saw, between the streaks of dark blood, that her back was free of the appendages that had clung to it only minutes before. When had they disappeared?

The doctor cleared his throat, and her attention snapped back to him, fingers hurriedly pulling her hair out of her eyes. Now she thought of it, the gown, with its back all but totally torn up, and the various holes that streaked the material at regular intervals, left little for an onlooker to deciper as to the shapes of her body. She offered a shy smile, cheeks pinking in her vulnerability.

"Um, doctor --" She cast her eyes around the room, wanting to shrink from the mess, but knew she had to own up to it. Her smile widened as a small spark of happiness ignited inside her, "You've never called me by my name before."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

"Yes, well, we have not had much time for talking. When you first came to me, you were barely strong enough to answer the important medical questions I needed so I could help you feel better."

The doctor set the tray down on a small table at the foot of the hospital bed and went into one of the small closet areas and produced a fresh gown.

"Come now, let's you get you out of that tattered rag."

He decided not to ask her about the room or her clothes. Her body would answer his most important question--Was she hurt?

He unbuttoned the back of the gown and slid it off her in a professional manner. "I know it must be uncomfortable, but I need a chance to examine you like this for a moment."

He looked over her back first. No cuts, bruises or scratches.

"Arms up."

He positioned her arms straight out to her sides and checked her ribs and abdomen with his hands. Nothing seemed wrong. Satisfied that there was no external damage or broken bones, Klaus reached around Jozua and held the gown out for her to put her arms through.

Once Jozua was back in a fresh gown, he directed her to sit on the bed and rolled the table around to her so she could eat.

"Jozua," Klaus said. Apparently the girl took some ease out of hearing her name. Maybe she would be more willing to talk about what happened. "You certainly seem to be doing much better."

He motioned around the room. "But, what happened here? And why were you under the bed?"

There had been a small alert about a mutant trying to escape a laboratory several floors up. He had been assured that the public sector of the building--the part that looked like an average hospital--had not been breached by the mutant. Still, something or someone might have entered the room and given the girl quite a scare.

"Are you all right?"

[Jozua Cure]

She fought hard to remove the reddening of her cheeks, but failed miserably, even as she picked up an orange and picked at its peel in an effort to distract herself. The doctors in America had always let her change clothes herself ...

Her cheeks flared with a flush again as she peered up at the doctor from under her pale hair. She reached for the juice, took a small sip, and replaced it on the tray, licking her lips. The jelly caught her eye, and she took a spoonful of that, and then another, giggling in her delight. She was still hungry! Some of the food she hadn't even eaten before. A small smile played across her lips as she ran her fingers over the items, and then returned to slowly peeling the orange.

"I am doing much better." She murmured. "I used to find it difficult to eat. The doctors in Holland told my mother that my stomach hadn't formed properly because I was born prematurely. When I tried to eat something, I felt full as soon at it touched my lips. If I ate, I threw up. They had to keep giving me water so I wouldn't damage my throat by bringing food back up all the time. It was difficult for me to gain weight, and so as a baby they always thought I might die." She took in a breath. The doctors had always known, so there was no need to tell them. It was what she was.

It is what I have been. Now, I am different.

"They always thought I would die. They said I wouldn't live to my third birthday, then my fifth, then my seventh --" Her voice trembled as she ducked her head, "and then I became more ill. I was nine, and I had a little brother and sister that I ...I ..." A sniff. "I wanted to see them. I wanted to be with them. But I couldn't teach them anything. My childhood was fragile. I couldn't show them what it was like to be a child."

She lifted her head, tears streaming down her face as she locked eyes with Klaus, "And now, I am twenty, and I will never have a childhood. My parent's love for me has faded. Now I am well, will they want me back? I-I think, is that enough to make them love me again?"

A flare of pain in her right side, as before. Jozua winced momentarily, but didn't falter any more than that.

"You are the only one who believes I will live. That I am special and worth your efforts." She squeezed the orange, then placed it back on the tray, shoulders slumping. There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't move, and futilely she tried to wipe the tears away, only to have them swiftly replaced by more. A shaking hand reach out towards Klaus, finding his own hand and gently clasping it with cold fingers. "I want to live. For my whole life I have struggled to do that, and seeing others doing it so easily made me wonder why I was made so weak. Perhaps it was for this; so I would be led to you and you would see another reason to try for me."

Never before had she poured her heart out to any person, especially not somebody she barely knew. But yet, despite the little time they had spent in each other's company, she knew him better than the doctors that had tended her for years. It hurt, finally realising that she had nothing left to go back to, and that a murky future lay ahead. But now, her body was stronger, and she had to match it in will. A feeling of lightness played through her, like something heavy had been removed from her slender shoulders, and she managed a fractionally wider, but far happier smile.

She got to her feet, and smiled ruefully at the doctor, squeezing his hand gently. "I am all right. ...But I'm not sure I can describe what happened here. And ...I don't know when it will happen again, or even if it will."

A pause. She still held his hand in hers. She searched his face for any change, but he seemed to be content in listening. She looked past him, at the window in her door. "...Could I go outside, please? Just to look - I - I am curious to know what else is here. I promise I will not be any trouble. Please, doctor?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus ignored her blushing. He had seen plenty of bodies in all types and conditions.

He watched her eat the fruit and the bowl of jelly. Just before he could go outside to get the rest of the food, she took him by the hand and...well, confided in him.

It was a new experience for Klaus. Even before his work in the field of mutant biology, he had never once had a patient open up to him like Jozua had. Not knowing what to do, he simply sat across from her.

Once she was finished, Klaus let his hand out of hers and took some paper towels by the sink. "Dry your eyes."

He stepped outside for the peanut butter sandwich and the water, juice, and the cola.

Klaus set them in front of her and moved the rest of the fruit onto the new tray. "We will need some proper clothes for you to go outside."

The weather in Warsaw was cold. He would need a hat, scarf, long-johns, proper under-attire, and at least some pants, a shirt, a heavy coat, and some shoes or boots for her.

Given the randomness of the event she was unwilling to describe, he was not sure if letting her out of the hospital was a good idea. He chose deliberately to ignore her questions about her family for the time being. He had no plans to permanently release her to the outside world, given her mutancy, but he didn't need her to know that yet.

"I will see about making arrangements for you to go out soon. For now I need to see the security cameras about what happened to you and make my guesses on what happened. I will send my secretary to buy you some clothes to wear. She's about your size. When everything is settled, we will go out."

Klaus kind of wanted to see how she fared outside. The outside world was the best chance he had of seeing if his cure actually worked. He would need a containment team set up in the area where he would take her in case she had another incident like the one he suspected happened earlier.

"I need to make a call or two. I'll be just outside. Please do try to eat. If you are feeling brave, eat the sandwich. And there's a cola for you, just for fun."

Klaus stepped out into the hallway, dialed his secretary and made the arrangements for her to take an extended lunch to go shopping for Jozua's clothes. His second call was to his head of security. He spoke to the man in his own tongue. If Jozua came to the door, he didn't want her to know what he was planning. He needed her to be as relaxed as she could be. If she felt frightened or uncomfortable, it could trigger another incident.

[Jozua Cure]

Some of the words were similar to her own mother-tongue, but that was simply because the languages were Germanic; that was all they had in common. Jozua knelt at the doorway, supporting her weight with one hand as she leaned out into the corridor, her head tilted to one side, chewing enthusiastically on the sandwich. The savoury substance she identified as peanut butter (some of the healthier occupants of her ward had had interesting food brought from home by their families) stuck to the roof of her mouth, but she sucked it away with ease and continued to munch. Moments later, the sandwich ceased to exist, and Jozua padded back into her room, licking the crumbs from her fingers. She returned with the bowl of oatmeal, and although it was unflavoured, she ate it quickly, the odd specks dotting her mouth and flecking onto her gown and wrists.

Looking up, she found the doctor's gaze on her, and smiled sheepishly. "I am sorry. I suppose I am a messy eater." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and the dry blood that flaked onto her skin reminded her of her current appearance. Fresh clothes or no, blood was streaked up her face and limbs, and there was probably some in her hair, too. Heading back into her room, she found a paper towel and dampened it with water from the sink, and scrubbed at her face and arms with it. The blood washed off pink in the water. Casting a look over her shoulder, Jozua wondered for a moment who would clean the room she had coated in her own blood ...

Looking back at the mirror, she smiled at the fresh-faced, bright-eyed young woman that beamed back at her. Pale hair fell about features that to her were astonishingly pretty, and she had to poke at her cheeks to ensure that they were real, and really her own.

She turned, spied the doctor at the door and was unable to keep the smile from her face. "How soon?"

*

Warsaw was cold. The doctor had not been lying when he had warned her of that prior to stepping outside. Still, the synthetic fur that ruffled around her face kept most of the cold out, and her hands were enveloped in thick gloves. In fact, most of the clothing was thick. The cold bit at her cheeks, however Jozua was determined not to let it deter her as she looked over her shoulder at the institution they had just stepped out of. She hadn't spent any time observing it when she entered. And really, aside from the fact that any other form of habitable structure was absent from the area, it wasn't too remarkable. But then, she was sure that the doctor wouldn't want to advertise his work with mutants.

"Fry ...frid ...drik. Frydryk --" The scarf pulled up around her face hid the curve of her lips. In truth, the Poles had funny names.

You have a boy's name, Joshua. Remember?

She pulled down the soft scarf, and called over the growing wind, "Doctor? Where are we going?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

"There is a park nearby. I think we'll just go out there and see the sights. There is also a museum of art that we can go to. And once you've had enough sight seeing we can go stop for coffee on the way back to the Jericho Institute. Of course we will stop for lunch when you are hungry."

The doctor had left his professional attire in the building. He almost never left and only paid rent on an apartment when he decided he had time to do more than fall asleep in his office chair. Every so often he did return to the apartment to wash up and shave.

Today he wore a pair of khaki pants, his long-johns under that. He wore a a long sleeved shirt that buttoned down the front and a heavy coat with a hood. He wore a pair of earmuffs but let the cold greet his face unopposed. He never did like scarves.

He trusted his secretary to find a decent set of clothes for Jozua. His secretary brought them to him, describing them as warm, adorable, and in the most recent fashion. Heidegger never bought clothes for himself much, but when he saw the bill he forced himself not to look shocked at the price.

It was his fault. He hadn't specified a budget to the secretary, who only pursed her lips at him and said that girls will be girls--even the mutant ones.

Klaus nodded absently and arranged with payroll to have the amount reimbursed to his secretary along with her next paycheck.

The time outside served a number of purposes: to see how much Jozua had recovered in the past day or two, assess any intentional or accidental harm she might cause to her surroundings when/if provoked, and allowed the janitorial staff to take a solid crack at cleaning the hospital room Jozua had ruined.

"How do you feel today?" He asked.

She was excited about her outing. Klaus did not have time to see if the girl slept at all the night before as the first thing to happen would be the outing. She nearly lept out of the door all dressed to go.

She was indeed quite childlike and her curiosity knew no limit. Klaus never could quite see her for her age. She was just a little girl.

A potentially dangerous one at that.

The doctor checked his phone for the time. 1030. And he would be out as long as Jozua cared to. He felt irked at not being in his labs conducting his tests. He'd have to see the recordings and the data later on.

"Where to first? Anywhere that you can see, we will go."

[Jozua Cure]

Jozua couldn't believe her ears. "Anywhere?"

Never before had she been allowed so much freedom. Her gloved hands bunched into fists that she brought up to her chin, and she bobbed on the spot, letting out a delighted squeak. Turning to Klaus, she wiped her eyes, which were watering from the cold, and said gleefully, "The park, please! I've never been to one ..."

She fell into step next to him as he led the way, eyes widening as she tried to take in everything around them. The brown calf boots lined with pink synthetic fur crunched along the ground as she hurried to keep up with Klaus' more even pace, her half-skips causing her hood to fall from her head and reveal the fluffy white earmuffs that were wrapped over her hair. In her lack of attention, she bumped into the doctor's shoulder and bounced back with a mumble of apology, "I am sorry --" At his nonchalant look, she guessed she was forgiven and tried to quell her excitement.

It's so different. It's cold and big and the people have such funny names ...


"Um, thank you, as well. For the clothes - I really like them." Jozua beamed at the doctor, fingers pulling at the pink scarf around her neck. The secretary had been generous in her choosing, allowing Jozua to dress herself in black pants over thick woollen tights, which tucked into the chocolate and pink coloured boots. A large coat that swallowed her willowy frame provided protection from the chilly wind, and a pink scarf and gloves added to the splash of colour. She didn't give the doctor a chance to respond, however, as the park came into view and she started towards it with a zealous squeal, bouncing up onto the seat just inside its enclosing barriers, spreading her arms wide in the air as she peered up at the white sky.

It made her eyes water, so she squeezed them closed and let the liquid run over her cheeks. A smile of liberation played across her features, and as she heard the doctor approach, she took in a deep breath of chilled air, opening her eyes and releasing her breath in a stream of mist from between softly parted lips. "...Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?" More mist. "I used to look out of the window and watch the birds, and admire them. Envy them, even. I wonder if I could do it now?"

Stretching out a leg, she stepped forward, drawing in her breath again. Despite the heavy clothing, she tried to imagine being as light as a dove. She hopped off, gravity took its hold, and she landed with her feet together on the frosty ground. "Mm. Maybe not."

She turned to Klaus and held out one of her hands towards him. "Take me anywhere, doctor." She closed her eyes, but the beam on her face showed all the thrill she was taking from the trip: "This is much better than being in a hospital."

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus watched her play on the park bench. "I'm actually studying mutant flight. There seems to be no one way the mutants fly. Some have wings, others use the wind, some seem to do it by an unknown power. The theory is that they have some kind of personal telekinetic power that moves them. It's an interesting study."

Klaus had no love for notions of flying or being a merman.

Klaus reached out with a leather glove and shook the tips of Jozua's pink-clad fingers. "Very well. We will go to the center of the park and see what is there. There is a fountain and a statue. Maybe there will be people performing. Sometimes you can find a man playing guitar or a juggler."

He walked on with his hands clasped behind his back, admiring the deep chill of his country. So crisp. He loved the edge of the cold weather. To him it characterized something important for himself.

"Come, Jozua."

[Jozua Cure]

It was easy for her to obey, and not much of her life had been centred around rebellion. In fact, it was rare that the thought had even crossed her mind. Had she rebelled, her life would have faded, and the doctors would not be to blame. She tottered ahead of Klaus, stopping to watch a bird as it flew overhead or peer a little closer at the people who passed her by, trying to work out exactly how one was supposed to pronounce that odd combination of letters.

Surprisingly enough, the fountain had not frozen over as she was expecting, however she was not completely disappointed as she reached its edge, and found that the cloudy ice masked most of the water in the pool. Dropping to her knees, she pulled off a glove and reached out towards the ice, squealing as its touch froze her fingertips until they burned. Steeling herself, she briskly rapped on the ice with her knuckles, frowning as it didn't crack.

"It must be very thick, then." Wriggling her hand back into her glove, she managed to get halfway to her feet before being bowled over by a fluffy Husky, which eagerly licked her face and disappated the fear in an instant. Instead, Jozua giggled and reached up to bury her hands into the dog's thick fur, wrapping her arms around the dog's shoulders and feeling for its collar. Unlike with humans, she was unable to see the dog's name. She had discovered this was the case when seeing the birds outside and the cats that her family kept on the rare occasions that she went home. Before she could read the tag, however, the dog was whistled away by its owner, and Jozua got back to her feet. "Bye!"

Brushing herself off, she spied Klaus some feet away, silently observing her as usual. She headed back towards him, looking up at his face with a bemused expression on her own. "...Doctor Klaus? I-I've noticed ...you don't smile much. Um, at all, really." She brushed away stray strands of her hair, and looked up at him again, "Is something wrong?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus looked down at the petite girl, noticing that the big dog had managed to shed some hair on her clothes.

"Nothing is wrong." It was true. "I'm a private person, Jozua. My work is also my entire life. I don't spend much time away from the Jericho Center. In fact, this outing with you is the first time I have been outside the Center since before your arrival."

He paused a moment and watched the dog and its owner play with a frisbee. "Did you enjoy the fountain and the dog?"

[Jozua Cure]

Not going outside by choice?

Instead of showing her bemusement, Jozua put on the smile that had been nearly ever-present on her face since the evening before. So maybe Klaus didn't smile; she could do enough for both of them. "Yes - I've never had too much contact with animals - the doctors thought it would make me worse. And the fountain looks like the ice could be broken, but it's not ..." She trailed off as her thoughts wandered back to it, but she was interrupted by a quiet growl from her stomach.

"Doctor, you should go outside more. I have spent so much of my time indoors, so I have never realised how good the outside air feels." She pulled her hood up, and pushed some hair out of her face, "You're not being good to yourself, letting yourself stay inside. I didn't have a choice until now; but now I'm out here I want to stay outside for as long and often as I can."

Another growl, louder and ruder this time, wanting to be noticed. A small, brief stab of pain in her side accompanied it, however's Jozua's attention was already on her hunger. "Oh, excuse me." Her hands wrapped around her middle, "...I'm getting hungry. Can we go somewhere to eat?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus listened to her with patience. He did not have time to try to explain to her the nature of his work. He likewise chose not to comment on her vow to go outside at every available opportunity.

"You are hungry? There is a small place here just outside the park. We can get something to eat there."

The doctor started off towards the edge of the park closest to the place. The old couple who ran that store had been in charge of it for as along as Klaus could remember. It had been the site of many meetings for contracts and other important business deals.

The couple quickly learned his face and name. Even after the contracts had been made, Klaus still visited the restaurant from time to time when he needed to change his environment and think. His phone indicated no messages when he checked the time. It meant things were running smoothly back at Jericho. The lunch hour was soon to be in full force. A perfect time to see how Jozua handled very large crowds.

"Come along, Jozua, or we will have to wait to eat."

[Jozua Cure]

"I'm coming!" Jozua set off after the doctor at a brisk pace dotted with half-skips. At his side, she peered out towards to park exit where people were numerous, the names swarming through Jozua's mind. As Klaus stepped out of the park and into the crowd, she could not match his confident stride and quickly found more than a couple of bodies separating them. "Doctor - please wait!"

She started after him, trying to keep her eyes locked on the back of his head, and reached out to grasp his elbow: "Wait --"

The man turned, and it was not the doctor she had become so fond of. He let out a string of words that she didn't understand, and she shrank away, mumbling apologies in both the tongues she knew. She bumped into another, a woman who seemed only a few years older, who looked irritated at Jozua's inability to stand steadily. Bowing her head, Jozua apologised again, and then desparately swept her eyes around, searching for Klaus.

Where did he go? He has disappeared ...

She darted forward, squeezing herself between the crossing paths of the people, trying not to skid on the frosty ground. A moment later she collided with another person, and worriedly began stuttering apologies: "Droevig --excuseer m --"

Looking up, her face flushed with embarassment as her wide green eyes met Klaus', and without hesitation she flung her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder, "Mijn verontschuldigingen ..."

She drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves, then loosened her grip. "I am sorry - I got lost ..." She closed her eyes, smiling up at him, "But I am safe now."

Grabbing hold of his upper arm with both hands, excitement spread through Jozua again as she grinned at the matrix of people. "This is wonderful. I've never seen so many ...please, can we go to that place to eat now?"

[Doktor Klaus Heidegger]

Klaus heard her in the crowd falling behind. He turned and waited until she finally bumped into him. When Jozua found him at last he hardly had time to say a word before she wrapped her arms around him tightly and pressed her face into his shoulder.

At a loss of what to do with his arms, Klaus finally managed to give her an awkward pat on the head.

"Yes, you're all right."

The girl took him by the arm and leaned against him. It was closer than he liked most of his test subjects--or anyone for that matter--but he managed not to pull himself away.

"Yes. Stay close. We will get to the restaurant soon."

Klaus elbowed his way through the people, towing Jozua along behind him. At last they reached the end of the crowd and crossed the street to a small place.

They entered together, Jozua still holding onto him despite the extra room and lack of crowds. An old, heavyset woman came up to them and smiled. "Klaus, it has been so long."

Klaus nodded. "Indeed. Most of our contracts for the Jericho Center are argued out in a conference room now, rather than your small restaurant."

The old woman smiled. "I believe your table is still open. Come, and we'll seat you there."

They followed the heavyset woman to a table in the back. "I always said you looked like members of the mob sitting at this table," she chuckled. And who is this lovely young lady you have with you?"

Klaus took his arm back from Jozua and introduced her. "Mother Durski, this is Jozua Cure. Until yesterday she has been living with leukemia. Now this is her first day of being well."

Klaus gave his signature prideful smirk. "I cured her yesterday and now we are seeing how well that cure holds."

Klaus seated Jozua at the table and took his own seat on the opposite side. "Mother Durski, tell Chef Durski that we will have perogis today."

The old woman smiled. "Of course. How many would you like?"

Klaus paused a moment. "Six with beef, six with potatoes, and another six with potatoes and cheese."

The old woman nodded. "And to drink?"

"Two glasses of water. Jozua, is there something you would like special to drink?"