A Golden Egg In Her
Arms
By Nadja Lee
English
is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.
Disclaimer: “X-men”
and all the characters here belong to Marvel, 20 Century Fox and I intend no
infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make no money of
it.
Disclaimer: “The
Golden Goose” series belong to Min. I was just kindly given permission to play
around a bit.
Only the original idea
contained within this work is the property of the author. Please do not copy
this story to any website or archive without permission of the author.
Timeline: Set in the
Ultimate comic world. Sometime before the comics begin.
Universe: Set in the
Ultimate comic world.
Romance: None
Summary: Maddie thinks
about her past and the child she holds in her arms.
Archiving: Want, ASK,
take, have.
Feedback: Yes, please.
My e-mail address is neh@post10.tele.dk <mailto:neh@post10.tele.dk>.
Rating: PG
Sequel/series: Prequel
to Min’s “The Goose Who Laid The Golden Egg”.
Dedicated to Min; for
letting me play in her sandbox. Thanks, hon!
Part 1:
God, he looks so tiny. What a strange thing to think when I’m finally
alone with my baby, but it’s true. He looks so small and fragile -- doesn’t
much resemble the images of babies Victor showed me. He’s still reddish in the
face, has no hair, and his skin seems wrinkled. I’m not sure if he’s supposed
to look like he does without clothes on. I’ve never seen naked babies before.
Maybe he’s sick? Should I call someone? A doctor? No, I'd better not. What if
they hurt him?
I try to remember how that lady from the tapes held her child, and hold
my own precious bundle with one arm so I can caress his cheek with my free
hand. He opens his eyes and looks up at me . . . and smiles. I can’t help but
smile back. I wonder what he’s thinking. Can he even think? Does he know what
he is? What I am? Where we are? I wish Victor had told me more, showed me more
pictures.
I rock my baby in my arms as I’ve seen other women do. He begins to cry
and I try to quiet him down. I have to think. What did the women in the videos
do when the baby cried? They changed his diaper, feed him, or sang for him. I
just changed his diaper and fed him, so maybe singing? What shall I sing? I
don’t know any songs, but try to remember one from the tapes that Victor showed
me some months ago. In it, people sang
for a boy. They were all smiling and looking happy since it was his birthday.
The boy got lot of nice things that he'd wanted, and they ate this strange food
with writing on it and drank some hot brown liquid. It had looked like it
tasted good. It’ll be my birthday soon; I’ll be one year old. Maybe I'll get to
taste what they had?
My baby’s cries tear me back to reality. Yes, the song . . . . How did it go again? Oh, yes: “Happy
birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear, Remy . . . Happy
birthday to you.”
The song must work for he quiets down and falls asleep in my arms. I
stroke his cheek again. My little Remy. At first when Victor said I had to give
the kid a name I said he should be named 108777 because that’s my name. Victor
said a number is no name so I wanted to call him 'Remember' so that then when
he grew up far from me, he’ll always remember me. Victor didn’t like that
either. Then I remembered a strange show that Victor had showed me on that big
thingy -- the TV -- in which people had talked nonsense like I did when I was
first born. But I heard one of them say
'Remy' and it reminded me of Remember, so that was the name I gave him. Victor
even gave me a name; he said it was because he couldn’t remember all the
numbers in my original name. He said my name was now Madelyne Pryor; or Maddie
for short. I like that I now have a name the same as he does. I once asked him if my name couldn’t be
Victor like his, but he'd just laughed at that and ruffled my hair. I still
can’t see what would be wrong with the name Victor, but I like Maddie, and he’s
right; it is easier to remember than 108777.
Part 2:
As I hold my boy, I think of his future. Dr. Essex has already told me
that he’ll be taken from me. I don’t like that, but maybe someone will show him
all I haven’t seen. Victor once showed me images from the outside. I don’t
think he was supposed to do that because Dr. Essex got very mad, and Victor was
removed for punishment but at least I got to see what it was like out there.
There are so many things, so many beings. I love the forest, it seems so
peaceful and quiet. Here, it is never quiet. I can always hear someone’s
screams. I would like to see those big things, which grow in the forest . . .
what are their names? They are big and green and very tall. I wonder if they
speak? It must be nice to be so big, for then no one would order you around.
I’d also like to see all the animals out there. I’ve never seen animals. Victor
showed me an image of a rabbit once and it looked sweet. I think it was a girl
rabbit for she looked like she wanted to say something and Victor says girls
talk a lot.
If Remy gets the chance to see all those things, then I’ll gladly give
him up. I can’t care properly for him here. Victor showed me this tape and they
said that a baby needs a father and a mother. I asked Victor where I could get
a father and a mother for my baby so he would have all he needed. Victor said
that a father is a cold-hearted son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve to live. I’m
not sure what that means, but he sounded so mad, I didn’t ask again. Instead, I
asked what a mother is and he said it's someone who takes care of you and
protects you. I wonder if Victor is my mother?
Now that my baby is born Dr. Essex told me that Victor would not be my
mentor anymore, that I won’t see him or the images that he bring again. That
made water come out from my eyes. I don’t want him to go; I’ve
not even lived for one whole year yet. There's so much I still need to learn,
so much I still want to ask him. Dr. Essex also told me that I’m a clone --
made to breed. I’m not sure what that means but from Victor’s expression, I
gathered it isn’t something nice.
I look at Remy again. I can’t get over how small he is. I've never seen
a human so small before and I wonder if there's something wrong with him.
Humans are usually bigger. In the tapes I’ve seen the babies get big very fast,
but Remy still looks the same and it’s been almost 24 hours since I gave birth.
Maybe I should call the doctor. No, Victor says doctors are bad -- no doctors.
Still, it doesn’t make sense. I was born a few months ago and I’m big now. I
can’t remember ever being small. I remember Victor, he taught me everything
from talking to walking and also what I can and can’t do. At first I didn’t
like to have clothes on and kept taking them off; they felt strange against my
skin. But Victor told me that they had
to be left on. I’m still not sure why but I keep them on now. He said it was
something about embarrassment and lust. I wonder what that is. So many words
have little meaning to me. Like love. They say that a lot in that thingy -- the
TV -- they say 'love' a lot. I love you or I don’t love you. They get sad when
they say I don’t love you, so love must be good. Love makes people happy. I
would like to have love; maybe when it’s Victor’s birthday I can give him love
as a present. Maybe that’ll make him smile.
He so rarely smiles, and I’ve learned that people smile when they are
happy.
I press Remy closer to my heart. He looks so small and fragile. I want
to protect him from the coldness of this place . . . from the coldness of me,
for I’m cold inside. I have no memories to give him, no “when I was young”
stories to tell. My baby smiles in sleep and I smile back. He is beautiful.
Well, not that I really know what that word means, but I know it's something
good. I asked Victor about it a few weeks back and he said beauty was like me.
I wonder what he meant by that but his voice seemed strangely gentle when he
said it, so I knew it was something nice.
I can feel that I’m falling asleep. I’m exhausted after the birth and
everything feels . . . strange. I'd barely gotten used to my body and how it
had looked when it began to change and grow. It was like having something . . .
alien . . .inside me. I wanted it out of me, I didn’t want my body to change,
but it did. I ached all over, was often sick, and Victor had to put me to bed
several times. Everything on me grew:
my belly, my breasts . . . even my feet. The last month that I carried
Remy, I couldn’t wear shoes. I remember how I asked Victor about the smallest
things; if I was supposed to feel this or that, until he finally said that he
plain didn’t know. But I have no one
else to ask. No one talks to me, no one tells me anything. Sometimes Dr. Essex
comes and says something and checks on the baby but that’s all. He never really
talks to me and what he does say rarely makes sense to me, and besides . . . he
frightens me. But Victor -- he's always been there. I know now that it's
because they assigned him to teach me, but still, he’s all I have. He tried to
tell me how my body was changing by showing me tapes about others who looked
like me, or by pictures in books where I could see what was growing inside me.
It's very strange to think that something too small to see can become a human. I
asked Victor why his body didn’t change and he said he couldn’t have babies,
that his body were different from mine. I wanted him to show me how, but for
some reason that comment made him angry. That’s strange, for he rarely raises
his voice at me. I wonder what I did wrong? I’ve never seen a man without
clothes on, I only know from Victor's words that all men are different from all
women; so all women are like me and all men are not. That’s confusing. Why make
people differently? Wouldn’t it be easier if we all looked exactly the same?
I look at Remy again and smile, for it was all worth it; all the months
of pain and confusion about what was happening and why. No more thoughts
tonight. Now, I’ll just . . . be. Just be a woman and her baby. All else can wait
till morning.
And I fall asleep, a golden egg in my arms.
The End