The new clothes felt good and soft against her skin, and despite the claws jutting from her hands she felt comfortable enough to ease back into the seat and watch houses go by. The truck bounced as they rolled into a gas station. As Jude watched him head inside to pay, she became aware of all the tension leaving her shoulders. She couldn't put a finger on it, but something had her feeling more relaxed. Perhaps it was the miles growing between them and the grisly scene in the forest that morning, or that on the long open sections of road, he'd taken to leaning back and letting his elbow hang out of the open window, giving the impression he was a little less guarded. Whatever it was she found herself enjoying it and elbowed the door open for him when he returned bearing cups and a newspaper.
"Hey, you're in the news," he said and grinned, passing it to her.
'Pharmaceutical Storage Facility Destroyed by Fire,' read the headline.
"Many items were lost in the blaze last night," she read aloud. "Including highly valuable testing equipment and tissue samples, the exact nature of which are classified and rumoured to be Office of Biohazard Containment and Mutant Safety property."
"'Rumoured' is right," he said and snorted, passing her a styrofoam cup. The coffee was warm and fragrant, and she took it eagerly, peering down at a blurry picture of a wasted building on the front page.
"Thanks. So, I assume I'm the tissue samples they're talking about?"
"Nope," he said between swigs of coffee. "You're the testing equipment."
"Mmm, great," she said, looking at him over the rim of the cup and taking a slow sip. "Hey, this doesn't taste like regular coffee. What is it? It's nice."
"They got some flavoured cream things in there, I dunno."
"You know, I really get the impression I'm not the first person you've dragged out of a place like that," she said, leafing through the paper.
"Nope. You're not," he replied, starting the engine.
"So is that your job? Is that what you do?"
"It's more of a hobby," he replied. She smiled, turning her gaze from the pages out onto the road again.
"I see."
"It's not like this happens every weekend or something, though. Most of the time they remember a lot more than you seem to, too."
"What's in Westchester again?" she asked.
"It's a place for mutants. Kind of a school. Charlie's the guy who owns the place."
"Do you think he can fix my claws?" she asked, staring down at the blades, still locked in place.
"Depends what ya mean by fix," he said, shifting in his seat. "But probably. We'll be there in about an hour, so you can find out then."
"You must be tired," she said. He did not answer, instead winding down his window.
"You know, I don't really know how to introduce myself. It's sort of awkward."
"What, Jude the Expensive Piece of Testing Equipment doesn't do it for ya?" Logan replied at last, leaning on the open window.
"Not especially. I'd like to have a kind of identity. I assume I had one once."
Logan drew breath as if about to speak, but seemed to think better of it. He pointed up past a series of fields, where modern buildings appeared on the horizon. Sunlight gleamed off the many windows of the tallest structure.
"Just keep trying things until you find what you like," he mumbled. "Or until you remember something."
"Hey, nothing beats being kicked in the head while a building burns down around me as a first memory, though right? I guess that's an icebreaker."
"You forgot the glass, the shotgun and the dead guys," he said, grinning at her wry remark.
People in uniforms dotted the landscape, enjoying the sunny weather. She watched a couple throw a frisbee to and fro as they passed by, a sharp contrast to their night of blood and violence.
"Yeah. I'd sort of like to leave those bits out."
"Seemed like you had all that under control. You got nice form," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "You don't move like that without a lot of practise, is all I'm gonna say."
"You're starting to sound like you know something."
"Nah. I've just been in this game a long time."
Parking in front of a brick wall next to tall wrought iron gates, a brass plaque set in the wall caught her eye and Jude hopped out onto the pavement to get a closer look. It read, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
"Gifted youngsters, eh?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Logan.
"Yup." He tapped some numbers on a keypad and the gates swung open. Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets he ambled towards the central building, staring straight ahead. People in black and grey uniforms sat on the grass reading books and chatting loudly amongst themselves, none looking up from their activities at Logan and Jude's arrival. More than a few were obviously mutants and she couldn't help but glance a little longer at a young woman with red hair as she manipulated a ball of fire in her hand, talking with a man covered in green scales, his tail lashing.
Distracted as she was, Jude walked straight into Logan's back having stopped suddenly. Muttering under his breath she followed his gaze towards as a tall man in a different, darker uniform and wearing a visor, waving them over. Ignoring him, he yanked on the door handle. It didn't budge. Looking in the direction of the other man, now striding towards them, he snorted.
"Typical."
"Just a minute now, Wolverine. You don't have clearance," he said. He was huge, well over six feet by Jude's estimation and towered over her and Logan both.
"I'll give you 'clearance' in a minute, bub," he snarled. The sharp scent of aggression hit her hard and Jude took a step back, drawing her fists flush with her hips as she appraised the situation. Wolverine? I thought his name was Logan? Is that some kind of codename? Who is this guy? He's not going to attack us, is he? As if in response, the tall man turned his head, appearing to study her a moment - she couldn't be sure as the visor blocked his eyes - but he turned back towards Logan.
"I'm sick of you just disappearing for days without notice. If there'd been a situation and the team had needed you-"
"I was busy," Logan snapped, his fingers still resting on the door handle.
"That's irrelevant. Your communicator is supposed to be on at all times."
"Um, Logan? Is something wrong here? Is this guy your boss?" she interjected, her gaze flicking from one to the other, confused. Both looked at her.
"No, Jude, this boy scout ain't my boss," Logan replied through his teeth before glaring up at him. "And you'd better remember that real quick, Cyclops."
"Who is this person you've brought with you unannounced?"
"Xavier knows we're comin'. I got a lot of things to do. Get out of my way," he said, his voice dropping lower, becoming more threatening. Jude looked down to see his claws poking through the skin between his knuckles. Cyclops tapped his visor in what looked like a nonchalant gesture, but she guessed better, her breath catching in her throat. This really isn't going to end well.
"Oh, any time, prettyboy," Logan said, taking his hand from the doorknob. As he and Cyclops took a step towards one another, Jude opened her mouth in protest. Before she could speak, the door opened and both men stopped in their tracks, watching as a bald man in a grey suit and sat in a wheelchair rolled out into the sunshine.
"Good afternoon, miss," he said, addressing Jude first and folding his hands in his lap. "I'm glad to see that you arrived in one piece."
Logan brushed past Cyclops, his hands in his jacket pockets as he stalked off down the hall, disappearing around a corner and leaving her with the two unfamiliar men. She cleared her throat, looking from one to the other. This is suddenly very awkward, she thought. I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting though. A warm welcome?
"Uh, hello. I'm, uh, Jude. Pleased to meet you, sir."
"I am Professor Charles Xavier, and of course you've already met Scott Summers," he said, nodding towards Cyclops as he gave some kind of signal, excusing him from the conversation. "I believe you have some questions? If you'll follow me to my office, I shall address them as best I can there."
Jude looked at her reflection in a brushed steel section of the hallway. The place felt like a little fortress and she had a suspicion the building served as more than a simple school. Passing into a much older looking section, they rounded a corner before finally coming to a stop in front of large and ornate wooden doors. Jude blinked in surprise as Xavier's chair floated into the office - the wheelchair hadn't any actual wheels at all! He settled in behind a large oak desk and folded his hands, seeming to radiate calm.
"Please, take a seat," he said, gesturing towards one of the many chairs.
"Alright…" she said, trying to position her hands so as not to slice into the leather seats with her claws. Placing her palms flat on the armrests, she let them hang free in the air, frowning.
"Please, do try and relax. Chairs are easily replaceable. You, however, are not."
Taking a deep breath, she tried to follow his suggestion. Feeling the blades pull together and slip back, she looked down in surprise. Cold metal sliding up into her arms, Jude rubbed at the unpleasant sensation and the persistent ache began fading at once.
"Oh wow, that feels so much better. They really shouldn't be stuck like that. It hurts having them out for so long."
"Perhaps it is a reaction to stress? Logan tells me you have been fearing for your life since he found you," Xavier suggested, watching Jude as she flexed her fingers, feeling returning to them.
"I thought his communicator was off?"
"It was, however I am able to reach most people when I need to. I am a mutant, like you, and I was born with the gift to detect thoughts and communicate telepathically."
"So you can read my mind?" she asked.
"Yes, that is correct... Though I do not intrude upon unwilling minds. You, however, need no intruding. The confused thrashings of your psyche would be apparent, perhaps even overpowering, to even the most latent of telepaths. With your consent, I may be able to shed some light on your situation."
"What do I need to do?"
""Merely open your mind to me, and I shall do the rest."
Bugs erupted from under her skin, swarming over every inch of flesh and Jude leapt from her seat. Her whole body tingled with the sensation of billions of tiny legs scratching, biting, eating her. As quickly as it arrived, the feeling disappeared and left her staring down at herself in disbelief. There were no trace of insects anywhere. It wasn't real.
"Wh-what the hell was that?"
"That," said Xavier, leaning back in his chair, folding his hands on the desk as his brows came together in consternation, "is the hallmark of a very skilled telepath. Whoever buried your memories so deep in your mind has left mental blocks behind them, evidently as a countermeasure against other telepaths. It may be possible to undo what has been done and see what they were so desperate to keep from you, but it will take time."
"I want to find whoever did this to me, whatever it takes. I need to know how I ended up in that place."
"The X-Men and I will do all we can to help you, Jude. You will be safe here for as long as you wish to stay."
"The... X-Men?" she asked, returning to her seat.
"The X-Men are a group of specially trained mutants who work with me here to realise the dream of peace between us and humans. We work to train young mutants how to use their gifts for the benefit of humanity. Most of the X-Men teach as professors here in the institute."
"I see," she said. "Does Logan teach? Is that what he does?"
Xavier hesitated a second before responding, taking care in choosing his next words.
"Very occasionally, he will offer combat focused training to students, but he has a strong preference for solitude and that makes teaching classes on a regular basis difficult for him."
"Yeah. I understand. I thought I'd ask because he's just, well. The only person I know, really." She cleared her throat. "Well, sir, I have no place else to go, and I'll help you if you help me. Since I don't remember anything at all, it makes sense that I take some time to try and learn about myself."
"Indeed. A wise decision."
"Where am I, you know, going to stay?" she asked and scratched the back of her neck. Being able to do so felt nice, and she smiled in silent appreciation.
"I'll have Logan show you. I think it's best that you do try and rest for now. We shall hold a formal introduction for you to the others whenever you are ready. He'll be here momentarily."
"Thank you," she said, hoping her tone conveyed the humble gratitude she felt.
I'd better not fuck this up. "Before I go I wanted to ask as well, on the way here when Logan and I stopped to rest for a while, we were attacked. Do you know -" As she spoke, the door opened behind her. Jude's hands quivered and she looked down just in time to see her claws crunch into the desk. Pain burned through her forearms, the ache returning with a vengeance.
"Wha-! Why?" she cried in alarm, yanking back in reflex.
Go away, go away! she willed, but nothing happened. Looking first at her hands, blood streaming between her fingers, then back at Xavier, her eyes wide with confusion, she stammered, "I-I didn't mean -"
"I know," he said. "I understand," He blinked in surprise, but was otherwise unfazed.
"Dammit, your desk," she said staring at the holes, dismayed. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened."
"I am not concerned with the desk," he replied, gesturing for the figure at the door to step in. "I am far more concerned with you. That you could not control what just happened would seem to indicate that perhaps whoever is behind your repressed memories also saw fit to leave some post-hypnotic suggestions or subconscious mental conditioning there too. Something I'm afraid to say that I see all too often," He said, and shook his head, sighing. Xavier looked up and nodded in greeting to Logan before returning his attention to Jude. "In the interest of making your life a little easier whilst you try to adjust to your situation, would you be willing to allow me to try something?"
"Uh, sure?" Seconds later, her body relaxed seemingly of its own accord, and she found herself slumping against the back of the chair, her eyelids heavy. It felt as if someone was tugging on the tendons inside her arms, and looking down she watched her limp wrists pulled straight as the claws slid inch by inch back under the skin. Her pulse throbbing behind her eyes as she sat up, she murmured,
"How did you do that?"
"Until we are able to fully examine the problem, I was able to isolate the area of your brain responsible for controlling the blades' extension."
"That doesn't sound healthy," she replied, shifting in her seat.
"Trust ol' Charlie, Jude. He knows what he's doin'. Besides, now you're not going to go around punchin' holes in the wall every time you get excited," Logan said, standing a few feet behind her. Xavier gave him a look she couldn't read.
"It is easy to reverse," he went on to assure her. She nodded.
I don't like being without them, but... she thought, her gaze coming to rest on the six holes in the wood. He's right.
"Come on. I got things to do," Logan said.
"Yeah. Thank you, Professor Xavier, for everything."
"Think nothing of it, miss. I shall see you tomorrow."