I DO NOT OWN LOGAN
A/N: Hey guys! So, this is the rewrite of my story "The Legend of Laura". As you'll soon see, a few things about the story are gonna be different from the original story. Most notably Laura's age. Originally I made her fourteen, but in this she'll be about twenty-five. And as you'll see in a few chapters, she'll be going farther back in time than she did in the original story. I imagine Gina Rodriguez as Laura.
Laura's P.O.V.
I slowly get out of bed, careful not to jostle the mattress as I stand up and reach for my clothes. It's almost midnight and nearly everyone at Eden is asleep. I woke up five minutes ago in the arms of Violet, a girl I occasionally hook up with whenever I need to get away from whatever plagues my mind. Violet and I have had this… agreement, I guess, for a few years now. She showed up at Eden shortly before my friends and I did. She was homeless and on the run from the police because of her mutation. Her skin is like poison to whoever touches her, and could kill you if you touch her for more than a few seconds. And so I guess we're perfect for each other, at least for sex. She's poisonous, and I heal fast enough that I'm not bothered by her mutation.
I put on my clothes and quietly slip through Violet's bedroom door and into the hallway. Eden is based in "Anderson's School for Troubled Youth", which is an abandoned sleepaway school for delinquents that ran in the early nineteen hundreds and closed down in the fifties. Luckily the leaders of Eden found this place or else we wouldn't have enough room for everyone. Over the last fourteen years a lot of mutants have arrived here. When I first got to Eden, there was only about thirty of us. Now there's over a hundred.
I walk down the hall, on my way to the bathroom before I head to the gym. I can't sleep and need to blow off some pent up emotions that sex couldn't release. But as I pass the room that used to be the headmaster's office, I hear someone call my name. I pause in the doorway and look around the room. There's a wooden desk placed by a large window facing the front of the school. There are several pictures hanging up of various landscapes from various countries. And several people stand around the room: Jean Grey, one of the two surviving X-Men left, Brad Holmes, the leader, Angie Martin, Paul Johnson, and Tina Weiss.
"What do you need?" I ask them. I cross my arms against my chest, not having the patience to deal with them right now. I just want to punch the shit out of something, and I know that they would be mad if it was them.
"We need to speak with you about something. It's very important," Paul starts. He looks exhausted, like he's been up for days. I know the feeling. I feel like I've been up for a hundred years. I sigh loudly and rub my face.
"Look, I don't have time for this right now. It's the middle of the night and I just want to be alone," I tell them. I run a hand through my shoulder-length hair and rub my face again.
"We're sorry about that," Jean apologizes. "We were originally going to get you in the morning, but since you're up…" I sigh again. I know that they're not going to leave me alone until I listen to them, so might as well not fight it.
"You have five minutes of my attention, and then I'm leaving," I warn them. Brad rolls his eyes, annoyed. He acts like I should feel honored to be in his presence. He can be such a dick sometimes. Jean bites her lip and looks me up and down, taking me in. I find that odd, as we've known each other for more than a decade and yet she chooses now to really notice me.
"We know you're his daughter," she confesses. I frown, not quite understanding where she's going with this. I must be really tired if I can't understand a simple sentence.
"What? Whose daughter?" I rock back on my heels and try to figure out what she's gonna say next.
"We know you're Wolverine's daughter," Tina cuts in. Her already pale skin seems a few shades more white than it normally is. When she says that, my heart skips a beat and the air is knocked out of my lungs. I haven't heard that name in nearly ten years—after I got tired of my friends trying to bring him up all of the time. When my friends and I arrived at Eden, I had chosen to keep my lineage a secret from everyone else. I had been hurting so much from my dad's death that the thought of anyone else knowing who I am would kill me. I wouldn't be able to take the questions I would no doubt be asked and the sad looks I'd get when they found out what happened to him. So, I decided to start over. I stopped speaking Spanish, worked on dropping my accent, worked out in the gym almost all day everyday in order to get out that pent up anger that seems to be growing into a mountain each time I dig a hole in it. I also changed physically when puberty hit. I didn't choose the changes of course, but they were welcome. My hair and skin darkened over the years. My hair—I was told by Angie—darkened most likely because of the hormones released during puberty. My skin darkened because of the amount of time I spent outside. And I grew taller. I'm by no means the tallest person in this building, but I'm taller than I was, so that's good. And I even grew boobs. They're small, but they're there.
And because of all of this, I'm surprised that they found out. I don't even share a last name with my father. Anger runs through me as I realize that one of my friends must have told them. Nobody else knows about my lineage, so that's the only possible way Jean and the rest of them know.
"Who told you?" I growl at them. I swear I'm going to kick the ass of whoever it was.
"It doesn't matter who told us," Brad states. I give him a menacing look.
"It does matter because it wasn't their secret to tell. I didn't want you guys to know and yet they told you anyway." I shake my head and bite back the urge to beat the information out of them.
"What matters," Jean continues, "is that we know now. And we need your help." I shake my head.
"No. I'm not going to help you guys. I just want to be left alone. My father did everything for everyone else and he ended up dead because of it. So you can understand why I'm not eager to hear your proposition." Jean's wrinkled face goes pale at that moment, and I realize what I said. And the face that she's giving me right now—full of remorse and sadness and empathy—is the exact reason why I didn't want anybody to find out. I hate it when people feel remorse towards me. I'm not familiar with it and I'm not comfortable with it. It makes me feel weak.
"Logan is dead?" Jean whispers. I can tell that she doesn't want to believe it. That she doesn't believe me. Doesn't WANT to believe me. But deep down she knows that it's true.
"Yeah." Is the only thing I give her as an answer. "And he died trying to get me here. And I'm the reason why he's dead. So you can see why I'm not up to helping anybody. I'm not my father. I refuse to die the same way he did." I take one look around the room, back out of the door, and walk back down the hall, leaving them behind.
I spend the next few hours lifting weights, running on the treadmill, and punching the punching bag. I get out all of the energy I have, until I get bored with every piece of equipment in the room. After, I go to the girl's shower room and stand under the scalding hot water until I'm fully relaxed and feel like I'm clean. And by the time I finally make it back to my room, it's around five-thirty in the morning, and while everyone else is waking up, I find that I'm finally able to fall asleep.
A/N: What did you guys think? I hope that the rewrite will be as popular and liked as the original. Please review!
~Gina