A/N: XD One AU element to this fic: I tried to find out what happened to Laurie's father, Dr. Sean Garrison, in New X-men Academy X (yes he is Julian's
therapist here), but for the life of me I couldn't find the spot in my graphic novels. Must be the 4-day chemistry cram I just came off of. Annd yes I nearly
spelled that chram, like Borat does...a word for...um...ok NVM! Trust me it had me snickering for a few minutes. "HAHAHA she said chram!" Anyways...in this
fic, the events with Laurie did happen...but Dr. Garrison just never got caught (regardless of what actually happened). It's just more fun if he's still floating
around, a loose cannon waiting to go off! Blam. OK I've said too much. XD
ANOTHER NOTE: If you're a fan of Joss Whedon's Angel, you'll recognize Lorne, who I decided to add to this comic. No worries--it's not going to become a
crossover. He's a tertiary character. Just added him for shits n' giggles when I was thinking of who would look really crazy. Two other OC characters of mine are
in the group as well, Psyche and Catfish (you'll meet him later, and then in another fic). They all play small roles, the spotlight goes to you-guessed-it!
-2-
fifteen floors down
"Julian, this is Dr. Garrison," Emma said, smiling slightly, even though she wasn't happy to be here, obviously. "Dr. Garrison…this is Julian Keller."
Julian warily eyed the man in the crisp business suit with the light smile lines. He was fairly young—about his early thirties, with blond hair swept back. He
obviously cared about his appearance.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Julian," the doctor said, smiling. Made for TV. Julian wrinkled his nose, irritated. What did this man know about helping him? Had
he watched his friends die, unable to help them? Had he fought Nimrod?
The answer was no. Julian wanted to go.
"Let's go to my office," Dr. Garrison said. "I want to ask you some questions…before the group session."
"GROUP?" Julian's head swiveled; he glared at Emma. "What the—"
"I thought it would be best," Emma said. "For you to be with people who can relate."
"I'm not an alcoholic!" Julian sputtered. "I agreed to come thinking this was just counseling! What the—"
"Now, Julian," Emma's eyes glowed briefly. "Please watch your language in front of the doctor. He has been kind enough to allow you to join a fully loaded
group—he's quite popular, and successful. He will help you."
"Yes," Julian droned. "Wait—no! Stop—"
"In here, Julian," the doctor said, beckoning him to follow to his office.
…
"Ms. Frost told me a bit about you before you actually came to see me, Julian," the man said, now behind his desk, considering him. His patient. Julian folded his
arms, now in a chair across from him.
"…" he refused to speak.
"She told me good things about you," the doctor said encouragingly. "You were one of her most promising students—your powers are amazing, and you have a
wonderful personality. She thought very highly of you, and promoted you to lead other mutants, wanting to give you an opportunity to grow. How do you feel—
right now? Compared to the analysis she gave me?"
"Pissed the fuck off!" Julian sat up. "She lied to me, to get me here! I'm not sick. I don't know what she told you…but I'm not. I'm fine. All I am is a little stressed
out…I only agreed to come 'coz she said it was private…and it would just be like talking on the phone for a while. Or something. She didn't mention the group thing!
I would have said no!"
Dr. Garrison smiled slightly. "Anger is good—"
Julian glared at him; the pens on the man's desk, in the cup, rose into the air, clicked all at once, then slammed into the wooden surface around his fingers so hard
that they sunk in about an inch.
"…" Dr. Garrison removed his fingers carefully. "Julian—the group is only a bonus. I'm still going to be talking to you privately. But there are some wonderful people
in my group who—"
"Are bat-shit crazy!" Julian finished for him. "I don't give a fuck about meeting them! You can take them away and lock them in a closet, do your shock-treatment
thing on them for all I care!"
Dr. Garrison touched his fingers together. "Julian—"
"Shut up, before I play target-practice with the lines on your forehead," Julian hissed.
"Threats will not be tolerated," Dr. Garrison said calmly. "Julian—there is nothing more pathetic than a man that won't help himself. No one can help a person like that.
Is that who you want to be?"
"Sure. Whatever. Can I leave?"
"No." Dr. Garrison glanced at his watch. "The group should be here already. Let's go to the meeting room. There's free food."
"Free? Oh wow. After the 300-bucks-an-hour counseling fee? You can't be serious."
Dr. Garrison did not comment, but smiled again and led Julian out.
…
"…" Julian folded his arms, in the doorway. He would not, would not, join that circle full of crazy people. Hell no. Dr. Garrison pointed to a chair; Julian summoned a
donut from the buffet table and caught it with a belligerent look.
"Julian. Sit down."
"Make me," Julian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I will!" a girl said, standing up suddenly.
"No, Laura…please, sit down," Dr. Garrison said.
Reluctantly, she did as he asked. Julian snorted in derision. Pussies. And a flatscan. His annoyance towards Dr. Garrison increased as he realized he was a human.
Human, like the people who had killed his friends.
"Julian, sit in the chair," Dr. Garrison said, his voice firm.
"No!"
"Julian—"
"Shut up, I'm eating," Julian said, licking icing off his fingers and whirling the donut around his other hand's index finger. He knew he was being a complete asshole,
but he was in the mood to annoy someone to death. This man was, after all, making three hundred dollars an hour on him…might as well make him earn it.
"Julian…please, sit in the chair. We're not starting without you."
"Gonna be a long session, then," Julian said.
WHAM! He flew backwards, completely shocked. The donut sailed through the air and landed on someone's horn (a green guy, sitting in the circle).
Now Julian was on the ground, and the girl was on top of him, her fist pulled back, about to hit him in the face.
"No! Laura! Stop!" Dr. Garrison sounded afraid. Julian blinked, seeing double—his head had hit the floor on impact. The girl moved like a viper. She turned to look over her
shoulder at the doctor, uncertain. "But…I can make him sit in the chair," she said. "I thought that's what you wanted."
The green guy was pulling the donut off his horn with an annoyed look.
"Yes, but not through violence!" Dr. Garrison sounded frantic. "Laura—you're here to correct your problems, not enhance them."
The girl frowned, then stood up, a fluid motion. "Fine. He better sit in the damn chair then, so I can get what I paid for." She walked back to the circle, her boots making
clomping sounds on the floor; she pulled the chair out and sat down.
Julian pushed himself to his elbows, still blinking. How…how…
"Are you alright?" Dr. Garrison asked him, sounding worried. He was crouching over Julian. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
Julian glared at him. "One, and it looks like this," he said, flipping the man off.
"GET IN THE FUCKING CHAIR!" the girl screamed, her voice terrifying. Julian scrambled to his knees and ran to the chair, then sat down. He didn't care about Dr. Garrison—
but the girl was quite frightening.
"Good," Dr. Garrison said. "Why don't we go over our roster again and introduce ourselves?" He sat down on his own leather chair. "Lorne, do you want to start?"
The green guy with the horns nodded. "I'm Lorne...people call me the Host. I have a long story…basically, I'm from another dimension called Pylea. My real name is
Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan. I didn't like it there. One day I found a portal…"
"I'm done," Julian announced, standing up. The girl snarled, and he sat down almost immediately.
"Sylvia? Do you want to take a turn?"
A girl with a big cape and a hood that had been rocking slightly in the corner looked up. "D-did you say my name?" she asked.
Dr. Garrison nodded. "Go on, Sylvia," he said.
The girl straightened, suddenly very fierce looking. "I don't need to be here! I'm a god amongst ants! I could crush you all with my fist!" She was actually pretty, with
purpleish black hair, and violet eyes.
Julian looked away.
"Sylvia…" Dr. Garrison said, rebuking.
"I am Sylvia Rockefeller-Black," the girl said. "Psyche. I am Magneto's daughter…I don't need to be here."
"Yeah, right," Julian coughed.
She glared at him.
"Julian, your turn," Dr. Garrison said.
"Absolutely not. I don't want these people knowing anything about me."
"That is your choice," the doctor said. "Laura?"
The girl who had ambushed him before straightened. She, too, had black hair—it was quite long and straight; her skin was pale, and her features were quite nicely proportioned.
Boobs counted as a feature to Julian.
She rubbed her nose and Julian twitched, afraid.
"I'm Laura," the girl said. "X-23. I'm a genetic clone of—of someone. I was created in a lab, in test tubes. I was bred and trained to be the ultimate weapon." She smiled, parting
her very red lips over her white teeth. "I'm an assassin. I've killed hundreds of people—I killed my mother."
Julian stared at her, believing.
"What the fuck are you doing here then?!" he gasped. "You should be on death row!"
Laura tilted her head. "Go on. Try it."
"This is a group for help," Dr. Garrison said firmly. "Laura, I asked you to tone down your introductions."
"I'm paying him a lot of money to figure out what's wrong with me," Laura said. "I almost cried last time I killed someone. He's very effective."
"Laura!"
Julian leaned back in his chair and tried to concentrate on breathing. He had to make it back…to the mansion…and she couldn't be serious anyway. All the people here were lunatics.
Of course she hadn't killed anyone.
Right?
…
Julian froze as a hand shot between the closing elevator doors and yanked them open. It had black fingernails, and there were heavy, spiked bracelets on the wrist.
It was that girl. She was…he was about to be trapped in an elevator with her…for fifteen floors…he panicked as she stepped in and started to rush out.
"Yeah, you're staying, you little fucker," she said, grabbing his jacket and yanking him back in. The doors closed in front of his eyes, and he swallowed, then turned to
face her. "I forgot my keys," he lied.
"Like hell." Laura folded her arms. "You're about to wet your pants…please don't. I hate the smell…especially when it's old. Eww."
Julian backed himself into the corner, as far away from her as he could manage.
"So, yeah. You're going to treat the good doctor better," Laura said. "You were being rude to the poor man. All he's trying to do is help."
"…" Julian glanced at the elevator numbers, on top. Fourteen. Why did it seem to be moving so slowly?! Why did the man have to work in a skyscraper?!
"And it's rude not to answer," Laura hissed. Between one breath and the next she was across the elevator, holding Julian by the collar. "Listen to me, you idiot!"
"Leave me alone!" he shouted, trying to push her away. She was so strong, and fast.
"Not until you promise me you'll do what he says, from now on," Laura said. "And I make people keep their promises."
Julian stared at her. "…"
"PROMISE!" Laura twisted his collar; he couldn't breathe suddenly.
"AHHHCK! OKAY OKAY!" he gasped, his throat burning.
Laura tightened the collar, then slammed him back into the wall. "Good," she said, her voice normal again.
"You're crazy. You're completely insane," Julian said, rubbing his neck. He glanced up—eleventh floor.
Laura grinned, showing him her rows of white teeth. "And?"
"And—you do kill people, don't you?" he asked.
"Yup," she said. "I make a lot of money. Hundreds of thousands. You should see my place, it's awesome."
"No thanks," Julian mumbled.
"I wasn't inviting you!" She snarled. "God! I'd have to fumigate! You're disgusting, and I'm upset that Dr. Garrison let you in the group…I paid a lot of money to participate,
and now he's gone and spoiled the lovely atmosphere."
"Get him to take me off his 'roster'," Julian said blandly.
"No. You need help," Laura said. "Badly. You need to start by cutting your hair. I hate when boys try to pull off the rock star look and grow long hair."
Julian made a fffpt noise and rolled his eyes. Here was bat-shit crazy girl—in the flesh—telling him that he needed help.
"I can cut it for you," Laura said suddenly.
"WHAT? Stay the fuck away!" Julian pressed himself into the corner again. She'd—oh god, she'd popped metal claws. Like Wolverine's. He wanted to start hyperventilating, but he
was past that point. He'd been wrong—completely wrong. He wasn't going to die at the mansion.
He was going to die in this elevator.
"Just stay still! I know what I'm doing!" she snarled, advancing.
Julian remembered his powers at that moment and slammed her against the other wall of the elevator, upside down. How could he have forgotten them? She made a
snarling noise and struggled.
Seventh floor.
"Ground rules. You don't touch me, you don't talk to me, you don't talk in my presence…you don't kill people. UNDERSTAND?" Julian said, shaking his finger at her. She bared her
teeth and snapped at the air centimeters away. "And you DON'T TOUCH MY HAIR!"
He backed away and leaned against his corner again, watching the numbers count down as he held Laura against the other wall. She was silent now, watching him
with her creepy green eyes.
"You're just a scared little boy," she said, at the third floor. "I've killed people like you. You act all big and tough…and when it comes down to it…there's nothing there. I enjoyed killing
those ones the most." She gave him that grin again.
Bloodthirsty.
Main floor.
"Oh thank god," Julian burst out of the elevator, dropping the girl roughly as he raced across the lobby of the building. His shoes made squeaking sounds on the marble floor.
"Hey—wait!" the girl ran after him and caught his wrist. "I didn't say you could go!" Julian turned to look at her, and was vaguely surprised to see that she didn't look angry. Actually, she
looked normal—friendly, almost. "I mean—do you want to, uh, talk? About what brought you here?"
"Hell no!" Julian snapped in her face, twisting his arm to free his hand. "I don't want to breathe the same air that you've been in, you little psycho bitch. Go hug one of your
corpses or something." He pushed open the glass door with his mind—TINKLE. The glass shattered, but he didn't care; he let it swing shut behind him, straightening his
jacket as he stomped out.
The air was fresh—it was good to be outside. Julian looked around the street—it had just rained. He felt—he felt something. Happy to be out of there, that was it! Ignoring Emma's
request that he take a cab home (on the mansion's expense), he took to the air, becoming a green comet in the sky.
The girl watched him go, having stepped through the broken glass door carefully. She shrugged to herself, then moved down the street a bit, stopped beside a motorcycle, then
hopped on and revved the engine.