Did you guys know that you're all awesome?
Gosh, this is so much fun to write!
I was awake long before I opened my eyes. My mind was aware of what had happened to me, my body was aware of where I was, and every sense was acutely tuned in to my surroundings. I felt the cool hardness of plastic beneath my back, masked by the touch of cotton on my skin. I smelled the sharp, clean scent that lingered in hospitals. The sweet, cloying taste of sedatives mellowed on my tongue. I could hear the rustling of fabric and the soft chink of metal somewhere to my left. Even my suppressed sixth sense was active, and I could feel the emotions of one. . . no, two individuals in the room with me.
My eyes flickered open, and above my head I saw the bright white of a fluorescent light bulb. Where ever I was, they certainly were eco-friendly. No way this was the MCA. I blinked, hoping furiously that the last few days hadn't been a dream, that I wouldn't open my eyes and find myself back in the isolation tank, the Captain's grimacing face looming above me. The fluorescent light bulb kept shining. So it hadn't been a dream. I had made it to Xavier's school. Presumably, I was in the medical center. I was safe.
I sighed, a heaving, relieved sigh. "Oh," I heard a small, surprised voice exclaim from my left. I turned my head to the side, realizing it rested on a surprisingly comfortable pillow that seemed to have the consistency of Jell-O. It was a woman who had made the exclamation. Her long, black hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail, and a single streak of white ran across her brow. She looked way too young to have white hair, though. Her face was smooth and smiling slightly down at me. A small diamond glinted on her left hand. She was dressed in a long white lab coat over a deep purple sundress. The dress protruded slightly away from her figure, giving hint to the swollen belly underneath.
I twitched my lips in to what I hoped was a reassuring smile. The woman grinned widely at that, and she set the hypodermic needle in her hand down before walking over to my bedside quickly. "You've been out for a while now, sweetheart. We were starting to get worried," she said. Her voice had a soft accent to it.
"How long?" My own voice surprised me. I sounded deceivingly calm, but inside my heart was trembling. How long had I been out? How long had I left Tacy, Orion, Millie, and the others alone?
"You've been out almost 3 weeks. Gave Logan and Storm a bit of a scare when you collapsed in the office like that," she explained. My heart sank slightly. 3 weeks, There was no telling what the Captain or John could have done in 3 weeks. Any number of them could be dead by then. "My name is Rogue, by the way," the woman smiled kindly.
"Rogue," I said slowly. Anything to distract me from the tortured thoughts in my head. Rogue nodded.
"Actually, my name is Marie. But 'round here, we get to choose what we're called," Rogue explained. "What's your name?"
"It's Carmen," I said. "My name is Carmen." I repeated, slowly, as if I could figure out who I was in those three small words. Who I was, and why I had left like I had. How could I have left them alone like that?
Rogue looked sympathetic. "It can be confusing, and I can tell you've been through a lot. But Logan and Storm've been dying to talk to you. We all have. Do you think you're up to come to the office and tell us your story?" she asked. I nodded. Rogue held out a hand, and I took it. My brown skin stood out against her paler tone. I swung my legs around the edge of the cot I had been laying on and raised my back from the cool plastic. I was dressed in a plain white tank top and jean shorts. My toes were bare, and I wiggled them slowly. Mom had always told me to take my time in getting up; it kept the head rush away. I slid my legs down the side of the cot until I was firmly planted on the floor. I swayed slightly as I stood up, but I didn't feel the rush of blackness return again. Rogue led me out of the medical center slowly, into a pristine white hallway. Doors etched with a gleaming letter 'X' lined both sides of the halls.
"So, you guys are really the X-Men?" I asked, my tone impressed. Rogue chuckled, pressing a hand to her distended stomach.
"Yes," she smiled, but then her face darkened slightly. "I used to be one."
"What happened?"
Rogue grimaced ruefully. "You remember the Cure?"
I nodded. The Cure had been a huge deal a few years back. A formula that could suppress the Mutant gene permanently, and allow mutants to live their lives as normal human beings. I had only been in high school, but I had sent in several highly opinionated letters of protest to the government surrounding the issue. Comprehension dawned on me as I looked at Rogue. "You got it?"
"Yes," she nodded. "My mutation was too dangerous. I couldn't touch people without hurting them. I thought it was for the best."
"Was it?" I surprised myself by asking the question. Rogue looked startled as well, but she blinked a few times and appeared to ponder the question.
"Yes," she decided finally. "I'm not a true mutant anymore, but I'll always be one at heart. I can stay here, with my friends, all the people I love, and I don't have to worry about hurting them. I can have my baby, and not have to worry about what might happen if I hold him." Rogue smiled brightly. I nodded. I could understand.
We stepped into a rounded elevator made of polished wood. With a mechanical buzzing, the door slid shut, and the elevator quivered slightly as we rose up several floors. "This basement floor is for the X-Men. All of the private functions of our facility our located there," Rogue explained. The paneled door slid open. "This main level is the school."
I stepped out onto the gleaming floors. The walls were a deep reddish wood, spotted with windows that overlooked a lush green lawn. Currently, the school was between classes, and dozens of student were walking down the halls or milling about outside of doorways. I watched as one student suddenly slipped out of a wall, manifesting into the corridor. I stared at Rogue in amazement. Her eyes echoed mine. "You never really get used to it," she said.
Rogue beckoned me with her hand, and we walked along the charming corridors. As we passed, students murmured greetings or gave nods of respect to Rogue, which she promptly returned. Then their eyes turned to me, and I was met with stares of burning curiosity, full of questions. I felt twinges of emotion here and there: resentment, fear, excitement, resignation, anger. I squelched them all back, pushing those thought away to the back of my mind. Nothing else mattered but helping my friends. The feelings went, but there was a strange reluctance about it, and a greater strain to force it away.
Rogue stopped outside the office whose doors I had tumbled through 3 weeks prior. She inclined her head towards me, smiling in encouragement. I pushed firmly against the gold inlaid door handle, and the door swung open. On the other side, the tall, animalistic man with the grumpy face and the bronze-skinned, white-haired woman from the other night were waiting. She sat in the leather wheeling chair behind the mahogany desk, he leaned up against the large bay window overlooking the front drive. They were accompanied by several others people that I assumed were the rest of the X-Men. A short girl with dark brown hair and a round face was absent mindedly poking her finger into the table next to the couch she was sitting on, her finger slipping in and out of the metal as she phased. A tall, hot, and muscular young man stood against the wall, with his large arms folded intimidatingly across with impressive chest. Another, slightly smaller man stood next to him, with kind blue eyes and soft brown hair that was carefully arranged into a disarray. Rogue crossed to that man, and he wrapped one arm protectively around her. I assumed that was her husband.
I stood awkwardly, not certain if I was to introduce myself first, or wait to be spoken to. My decision was made for me, however, when the grumpy-man spoke up. "So, who the hell are you?"
"Logan!" The white-haired woman said indignantly. The man named Logan rolled his eyes at her, waving his hand dismissively.
"Ah, cut it out, Storm. You know you were wondering the same thing, you're just too polite to ask," Logan said gruffly. Storm's face reddened, although I could sense it was with something other than embarrassment. Rogue saw this, and stepped in.
"Logan, this is Carmen," she introduced me hurriedly. "Carmen, this is Logan, also called Wolverine," she gestured towards Logan, who just grunted, and reached into his pocket to pull out a cigar. "That's Ororo, but we call her Storm," Rogue pointed to the white-haired woman. Storm's face had somewhat returned to its normal colour, and she smiled kindly at me. I liked her. "This is Katherine, but you can call her Kitty," Rogue pointed out the girl who was phasing through the side table. "That's Pete, or else Colossus." The hot buff dude smiled and nodded.
"Tin man," Logan muttered under his breath as he puffed his cigar. The thick, noxious smoke had started to create a cloud about his head. Rogue ignored Logan, and I caught Pete rolling his eyes when Logan wasn't looking.
"And this is Bobby, my husband," Rogue finished, staring adoringly up at the man on her arm. Bobby grinned down at her, before raising his eyes to my face.
"Call me Iceman," he said.
"Pleased to meet you," I said to the room. "So, all of you . . .?"
"We make up the X-Men team," explained Bobby. "There's a few of the older students that we keep in rotation, but essentially, it's the seven of us." I nodded slowly, trying desperately to contain my excitement. Here I was, in a room with some of the most powerful and best known mutants on the globe. . . My thesis adviser would kill to be where I was now. If only I could interview them all, get some good insights for my thesis . . . I saw Logan glaring at me. Well, maybe I could do all of that later.
"So, now that we're all cozy and friendly, we can return to my original question," Logan growled. He seemed to growl a lot, I mused. It wasn't for nothing they called him Wolverine. "Who the hell are you?" Storm pursed her lips, as if to protest, but said nothing.
"My name is Carmen, like Rogue said. Carmen Dracoll," I introduced myself. Logan scoffed.
"Dracoll? What kind of mutant name is that?" he rolled his eyes. "Like Dracula? You some kind of vampire mutant? 'Cause I swear to God, if you start sparkling in this office-"
"Logan," Storm hissed, and Logan shut up.
"No, not like Dracula," I grimaced. "And sparkling . . . ew, dude. No way."
"What do you call yourself, Carmen?" Storm asked kindly in her gentle tone.
"Just that. Carmen," I said. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm not a mutant."
"Then what are you doing here?" Storm asked. Her question wasn't harsh or unkind, just curious. I took a deep breath. This was it. It was now or never, and i had to help my friends.
"I escaped from a top secret facility known as the MCA," I explained slowly. "The Mutant Control Agency. It's run by at least two individuals that I know of, one human and one mutant. They perform tests and experiments-" saying those words sounded like a bit of an understatement "- on mutant children. The youngest of us is just 10. They torture us, experiment on us, to force us to expose and use our powers. If we don't, or if we prove not be powerful enough, they terminate us," I shuddered, thinking of the memory I had shared with Orion about Jame's death.
The X-Men were silent. Everyone of them stared at me with varying degrees of shock and horror. Even Logan had something like terror and rage struggling to free itself from the indifferent mask on his face. "Not powerful enough?" Rogue whispered her question, her eyes searching mine.
"John only took the best," I said morosely. "Class 4 or 5, or anyone with the potential to be." I saw Storm mouthing the words 'Class 5' with a shocked expression. I could empathize with that look. Based on my studies, Class 5 mutants were so rare, only one had ever been documented in America. Then again, John collected his mutants from all over the world.
"John was the mutant, right?" Bobby asked quietly. I nodded and his face fell. "Brown hair, slicked back. Ability to manipulate fire?" he asked. Again, I nodded. Rogue squeezed Bobby's hand as he looked down at the ground. Around the room, the other X-Men gave him sympathetic looks. Pete uncrossed his arms to place a sympathetic hand on Bobby's shoulder.
"Do you know him?" I asked, confused. Bobby nodded without looking up.
"John used to be one of us, before he joined the Brotherhood. He and Bobby were best friends," Logan explained brusquely. Beneath his gruff demeanor, I could sense a pain that differed him from the others. His own thoughts seemed to be at war with themselves, present thoughts and ones long forgotten. Then I shook myself. I didn't want to feel what Logan felt. I just wanted to save my friends, and go back to writing my thesis. I wanted the insanity to stop.
"I'm sorry," I told Bobby. He raised his head, and though his eyes were still sad, he smiled at me.
"Carmen, why did John - " Storm glanced at Bobby in apology before pressing on "- why did John keep you at his facility, if you're so sure you're not a mutant?"
"I'm not even sure it was John who wanted me there," I said. "There was another man, we called him Captain. He was convinced I was a mutant; he took extra time with me to force me into showing him my powers. He hated my guts," I half smiled and lifted my borrowed tank top up above my stomach to expose the puckered burn scar that ran diagonally across my abdomen. "This one was made with a hot fire poker," I explained, and Rogue and Kitty flinched away from the wound. The others remained stony faced, as if they had seen such a thing far too many times before. I dropped my shirt back down. "Anyways, I came here because I had met Professor Xavier once before when I was young, and I thought that he and his X-Men would be able to help us," I spoke in a rush.
"Xavier died several years ago," Storm explained sadly. "He left the school in my care."
I hadn't heard about Xavier's death, but if was several years ago, it must have happened around the time that the Brotherhood made a stand against the makers of the Cure at Alcatraz island. "I'm deeply sorry for your loss," I said sincerely," but I do need your help. We need your help," I heard a note of desperation creep into my voice.
Part of me, the pessimistic part, half-expected them to say no, to send me away from the school to search for my own way to help- my friends. Logan spoke first. "Well, your story checks out with the others."
Others? "What others?" I asked.
Whoosh! Suddenly in front of me, there appeared a small, smiling faced boy of about 14, one that I recognized. "Hey, Carmen," Garan said, grinning at the surprise on my face. I swooped down and pulled Garan in to a fierce hug. He laughed. "Ease up, Carmen," he chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere, and you're kind of strangling me."
I let go, and pulled back so I could look him in the eyes. "The others?" I asked. Garan looked past my shoulder at the office door. I turned my head, and the door swung open to reveal Gabrielle. Gabrielle took one look at my face and she started crying, flying forwards into my arms. I held her close with one arm, the other still resting on Garan's shoulder. I looked at the door again, and Mark walked in, his hair a deep, dark shade of blue. He tried to conceal his excitement at seeing me, but I could see the tips of his hair pale slightly with happiness.
"Carmen," he said with mock severity. I had to stifle my laughter.
"Hey, Tonks," I smiled, and he did too. I pulled away from Gabrielle so I could look seriously at the three of them. "Where are the others? What happened after I left?"
"It was 'orrible," Gabrielle said in her throaty accent. "Captain was so angry. 'e brought us in for questioning every day." She shuddered. " 'e was determined to find you." Her face brightened with sudden pride. "We never told 'him anything."
"Eventually, a few of us decided we would try to escape, so we could come and find you," Mark explained. "We broke out maybe two weeks after you had left."
"Just you three?" I asked hopefully. Mark shook his head sadly.
"Diamond and Tyler were caught." Mark choked on the name of his best friend. I felt tears swimming in my eyes. Diamond, and Tyler. . . I would never ever see them again.
"Tacy?" I whispered, afraid of what I would hear.
"She's alive."
I felt like sinking to the floor in relief. My best friend was alive, she was safe. Diamond and Tyler were gone, however, and who knew who else? Who knew how angry John would be after four of his mutants had escaped? I turned towards the X-Men, all of whom had been watching the scene before them with mixed expressions of sadness and curiosity. "How long have they been here?"
"They arrived about 3 days ago. We cleaned them up, heard their stories," Storm explained. "They were quite keen to see you, but we thought it would be safest to hear your side of things before we reunited all of you."
I nodded, understanding. "Then will you help us?"
Logan answered. "Not like we have much of a choice, do we?" When I looked at him quizzically, he continued. "When someone threatens one of us, they threaten all of us."
"We'll do everything in our power to help," Storm confirmed.
I looked at Gabrielle and smiled. "You hear that?" I said to no one in particular. "We're going to save our friends."