Chapter 10

I woke up roaring, claws out and slashing wildly at the dark figure hovering over me. The jolt of metal against metal sent a shock up my arm and stopped my swing mid-arc, but I was still caught up in the nightmare. Kill the bastards! My mind screamed, although I had no memory of whom I was fighting against, except the stranger leaning over me. In blind fury, I struck out with my other hand only to be met again with jarring opposition and a loud metallic CHANK! The intruder now had control of both my fists, his own set of gleaming adamantium blades crossed with mine.

What?!?!

I sat bolt upright in bed, bringing my face within inches of my adversary's. His nostrils were flaring widely, shadowed eyes lowered and flashing dangerously. Now fully awake, my pulse was still racing. What the hell is going on? Where am I? Who the hell IS this guy? My thoughts were in utter chaos. The intruder's fiery eyes locked with my terrified stare, and suddenly I could feel him in my head, calming me, bringing me down from my panic state.

"Logan!" Recognition hit me full force. With great relief I withdrew my claws and realized I was in my bed at Xavier's. The room was pitch black except for the rectangle of soft light that shone through the open door from Logan's room. He sat on the edge of the mattress, clad in nothing but a pair of jeans and looking for all the world like an irritated grizzly bear. "I woke you up, huh?" I asked sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I don't sleep much anyway," Logan replied, claws already retracted, his fingers running through his sleep-tousled hair. He fixed me with a puzzled look. "You said you didn't have the nightmares."

"I don't! At least, not until tonight." In the seven days I'd been at the mansion, Logan and I had spent almost as many nights in this same situation, but usually I was hovering over his bed as he thrashed about in the throes of a terrible dream. Tonight was the first time he had had to come and quiet me. Was this was an indication of long-buried memories starting to surface, or was our empathic connection so strong that I was experiencing Logan's nightmares as my own? Both thoughts were worrisome, but the second option made me a bit queasy. You can't get THAT involved! my self-protective inner voice warned, but it was very faint as Logan's strong arm found its way around my waist and drew me next to him. As always, it seemed only natural to rest my head on his broad, warm shoulder and feel safe. We sat this way, in silent communion, until the sun began to lighten my curtains.

"Alright, Brianna, we'll go over what we covered last time," Professor Xavier instructed. "But this will be another non-Logan session." He gave a small, secretive smile.

The day after I had discovered my new power, the physical force that had manifested itself in the encounter with Magneto, Xavier and I had spent the first of many hours figuring out exactly how it happened and what I could do to control and use it. At one point, the Professor had had me sit on the floor and try thinking of something very pleasant, to see if different emotions produced different types of physical energy. I closed my eyes and, of course, the first thing that came to mind was the Wolverine. I could feel myself grinning like a silly schoolgirl as I thought of riding behind him on the bike, how his sideburns scratched softly when we stole kisses in the hall…

"Well, I must say I've never seen Logan have THAT kind of effect on anyone," Professor Xavier's voice broke through my reverie. My eyes popped open to find myself hovering about three feet off the floor, floating like a genie in the old stories. Concentration broken, I fell, landing unceremoniously on my rear end.

"How'd you know what I was thinking about?" I said irritably, refusing to rub my sore behind, even though it hurt like hell. My eyes narrowed. "You weren't reading my mind, were you?"

"My dear," Xavier had smiled, "It would have been less obvious if you had a neon sign attached to your head." This was the first of several incidents that prompted the Professor to admonish me NOT to think of Logan unless instructed to do so. We had discovered that fear, anger and determination produced the strongest energies, while softer emotions like joy and love manifested themselves more delicately. Happiness, for example, caused me to glow from inside like a dim light bulb. Of course, adding thoughts of Logan to the mix amped the brightness up to near halogen strength. I had almost blinded the Professor one day, much to my chagrin. That was an odd sensation, indeed. It felt like the deepest possible blush you could ever experience, times ten.

The amusement that rang in his mind now made me growl, "Could we just forget about that, PLEASE?" My irritation was enough that I could give his wheelchair a little mental shove. Professor Xavier seemed pleased by my reaction. I spent the next hour pushing things around the room and working on the subtleties that let me hold an object in place without repelling it. It was an odd, bending sort of sensation, almost like containing my emotions in a Lucite bubble.

A soft knock came at the door, announcing the afternoon physics class. I excused myself as a couple students, one with shockingly blue hair, poked their heads in the big double doors to the Professor's study. Xavier stopped me with a hand on my forearm. "Brianna, I believe your unique mutation would be a great asset to our cause, and I would like to extend the offer to you to become an X-man."

My brain froze up. Be one of the X-men? I couldn't. I could. I'd be stuck here. I'd have a home. I don't want to worry about anyone but Vixen. There are people here that care about me. I'm just a freakin' mutant. I could actually do some good for a change. I stared at Xavier and couldn't say a word.

"You don't have to give me your answer right now, think about it for a little while. But, please, do think about it?" he calmly requested. "I believe you belong with our family."

Family. Something I'd been without, and desperately searching for, for more years than I could remember. Could I really hope to find a home here, and belonging? I thought of Logan, could feel him being angry at something, as always, and the idea of being apart from him now sickened me. This was going to be the hardest decision I'd ever made.