just can't forget about me [ narrative ]
There was no medical reason for Manuel de la Rocha to linger in his coma. The reason for it was entirely psychic - thank you, Martinique Wyngarde, for that little parting gift. He'd been left to the mercy of a group of people that had no reason to look fondly on him, let alone to keep him alive the way that they were. But they were, and despite telepathic probes from both Jean Grey and Madeline Pryor, he remained in this coma.
Until something else called to him. Not the resident telepaths, not even the cacophony of emotions that he'd enjoyed toying with once upon a time. No, what called to him was the empathic curiosity of another resident, nosing around the level on which he was being held. It lulled him from his false sleep, calling him back to consciousness.
* * * * *
Later, he'd wished it hadn't. When he'd awoken all he'd wanted to do was follow the call, but the people holding him captive had different ideas. He was poked, prodded, questioned, his mind raided and his motives questioned.
"He doesn't consciously remember anything," a red haired woman said, as the group discussed him. It was quite a large group - a tall blonde with wings, two redheads, a dark haired woman with strange facial tattoos, a great hulk of a man and a tall dark haired man in red sunglasses. Any and all glances tossed his way were hostile, or at the very least suspicious. They all knew him - knew more about him than he did.
It wasn't a feeling he liked very much.
"Is he likely to do it again?" The winged man asked, arms folded across his chest.
"Who knows? He's such a blank slate right now, it's hard to tell."
"And he really has no memory of who he is? Or anything?"
"His last memory dates back to Spain. He doesn't remember anything of America, let alone of this hotel."
"I do hate to play the devil's advocate in a case such as this, but I do hope we are not considering turning him out into the street. For all his crimes, at this present moment he is a young man quite in need of our help. A young mutant in fact."
There was a long silence as the group digested this.
"He'll have to stay here for now," the angel finally said somewhat reluctantly. "Madeline, Jean, Scott, you'll keep an eye on him? I don't want a repeat of last time."
Who were these people? Manuel wondered, his gaze quickly darting away when the doctor came over to unhook him from the IV. And what had he done to make them so suspicious of him?