Disclaimer: This f*cked up story belongs to me; the X-Men belong to Marvel. Rabid pixies will be sicced on anyone who feels like trying to sue me.
"How are they doing?"
"Ah, Head Nurse Drake." Hank gave a wide and toothy smile. "With your benevolent and skillful assistance at the scene, all the patients are doing well. One in particular," he indicated Kitty, who was awake, and looking bored. "is doing so well she feels the need to inform me of her progress and the superfluous nature of continued treatment. She is not, however, getting away for at least a few more hours, so she may as well lay back down, and shut up."
Kitty snorted. "At least give me a book or something."
Hank just turned back to his work; Bobby tried to look over his shoulder – a particularly difficult process.
"What are you fiddling with?"
"I am not fiddling. I am making some minor adjustments to Scott's visor."
"Oh." Bobby took a look at the newcomer, sleeping peacefully. "You sedate him?"
"Both Scott and Remy have received a mild sedative; Scott should wake in a few hours – hopefully he will have calmed down by then. Perhaps, if Kitty promises not to overexert herself, she can show him around at that point."
"Yay. Excitement all round." replied Kitty.
Bobby noticed someone else was missing. "Jean out of the med-lab already?"
"She discharged herself last night, against my wishes."
"And her, you let go." snarked Kitty.
"Have you ever tried arguing with that woman?" asked Hank.
Kitty grinned. "No, I'm smart enough to leave that to Remy."
Just then, the aforementioned Ms Grey rushed into the med-lab.
"Is Remy awake yet?"
"No, as I have stated previously, the sedative will not wear off for approximately" Hank checked his watch. "Three hours, fourty-five minutes."
She sighed, flipping a lock of red hair away from her face.
"I have to go on a mission."
"I really would not recommend it, Jean."
"Oh hush, Hank. I know what I'm doing. It's nothing big, just trying to bring back some kid Xavier found on Cerebro. Besides, I have Wolverine as my self-appointed bodyguard." She rolled her eyes. "A whole mission with just Wolverine for company – have pity on me."
She left the med-lab, after taking one more look at Remy.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much." said Bobby, eliciting giggles from Kitty and a confused look from Hank.
"Whatever do you mean."
"Puleeze, Hank." giggled Kitty. "Half the mansion can see those two have the hots for each other."
"Oh, my stars and garters!"
"Relax." said Bobby. "Nothing's going to happen. Jean's too tightly wound, and Wolverine's too wrapped up in the 'I'm a big macho man and I have no feelings whatsoever' gig."
"He has feelings!" exclaimed Kitty "Anger, rage, fury…" The two of them exploded into giggles again.
"You two are going to give me a headache." complained Hank. "Bobby, out. Kitty, get some rest."
"Yessir!"
Betsey was whining about her broken leg and the loss of Puppy; Mystique and Rogue were arguing about where they were going to move to next; Storm ignored them all.
Stepping over the whimpering form of Kitten, who'd come back at dawn and received the full brunt of her fury at the actions of the X-Men, she growled, looking out the window. She wondered what he was doing, the man with the devil eyes. She rather hoped he was getting better; it would be no fun hunting him until he was at full strength.
Besides which, he owed her a scream.
She sat down on her bed; a stream of sunlight came in through the many windows of her room and she luxuriated in it, reveling in her perfect, natural nakedness. Clothes were so… binding. Kitten came nuzzling up to her, looking to be forgiven; she smiled, a wicked, sunlit, smile, and gently wound her hands through his hair, guiding his head.
Not that he needed much guidance. Kitten was very talented. Minor irritations and annoyances – like the X-Men, and Puppy dropping a ceiling on her, quickly drifted away. She smiled down at her pet.
"Good Kitten."
Scott woke up, and panicked. They'd taken his visor away. Betsey must be really mad at him.
He was feeling around the edge of the bed, trying to work out where he was.
Then a calm voice came, trying to sooth him.
"Everything will be fine, Scott. Here."
The smoothness of the visor slipped round his head again; taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. A large, furry man smiled at him.
"You are at the Xavier-Lensheer Institute for the Gifted. Do you remember what happened?"
He nodded, looking around. The man who'd called himself Remy, who Rogue had brought back, was in the room as well. His thoughts were swirling, remembering Remy's words ~t' a good place. No one hit y' dere, Scott~
"…so of course, you are welcome to stay as long as you like…"
"Huh?" He realized the furry man was still talking.
"I know this is all a lot to get used to, Scott. But do not fear, I am sure that soon."
"Hey, he's awake!"
Scott's eyes widened as an angel – there could be no other explanation – emerged through the wall, smiling at him.
"Indeed." replied the furry man dryly. "Did I not ask you to refrain from phasing while you were recovering, Kitty?"
Kitty, her name was Kitty.
She shrugged. "Going round the corridors is, like, the long way round, Hank. I haven't got the patience."
"Well you'd better, because I wouldn't suggest phasing poor Scott through all the walls."
"Whatever." She held a hand out to Scott. "Hi, I'm Katherine Pryde. People 'round here call me Kitty, though. The big blue guy with no sense of humor is Henry McCoy, in case he forgot to introduce himself. Just call him Hank." She grinned. "Or Blue, although now with Kurt around that might get a bit confusing. You're Scott, right?"
Bemused by her rapid-fire introduction, he just nodded.
"Kay. Come on, I'll show you around, introduce you."
She kept up her constant commentary as she showed him around; he was introduced to so many people he couldn't keep his head straight.
"So anyway, you'll be sharing a room with Kurt. Most people have a roommate – I'm with Jubilee, and she has the most god-awful taste in music, but it's pretty cool. Only person I can think of with their own room is Logan – he's out on some mission or other – you'll meet him later – and that's just because no-one in their right mind would share with him. The Prof's share a room up at the top, and so do Remy and Jean – be glad you're not near their room; they get kinda loud. Poor Hank's gotta share with Bobby – he's such a joker. Hank's cool as long as you don't interfere with his Twinkies. I think he's got some kind of fetish – oh, here we are!"
She banged loudly on the door. "Wagner, you in there? Open up, Elf!"
"Vas?"
His roommate peered round the corner; he reminded Scott of Mystique for some reason, but he was smiling.
"The Prof's tell you Scott was coming here?"
"Ja. Come in."
Kitty sniffed. "You might have cleaned up a little." Books were scattered all over the room.
"This is clean!"
She sighed. "Kurt, this is Scott, Scott, this is Kurt. I'm going to go steal some of Bobby's clothes to tide Scott over till we can get him to the mall."
She disappeared out through a side wall, and Kurt smiled, clearing a couple piles of books off the bed that was apparently supposed to be Scotts.
"Kitty give you the whistle-stop tour?"
"Uh, yeah."
Kurt grinned wider, revealing his fangs. "The day Katzchen stops talking, I think the world will probably end. She's cool, though."
Scott just nodded. Talking to people was a skill he'd long ago lost, if indeed he'd ever had it. His eyes rested on the piles of books.
"What are you reading?"
Kurt's eyes lit up. "Ach, this and that. Religious texts, a little medieval history. They're mostly in German, but…" he dug around in a pile at the foot of his bed. "Ah!". He held out a relatively thin tome; Scott just stared at it. "It's in English. Very good version of the story of Christ. Makes an excellent starting point, if you're interested"
Scott took the book, and stared at the cover. He'd learnt to read at the orphanage, at least some, but it had been five years since that time; the words blurred and made no sense.
"I'm… I'm not very good at reading" He shrugged, flipping through the pages.
"Keep it." said Kurt. "They'll teach you that stuff here – you might want to read it later. I've read it so many times I know the damn thing off by heart, anyway."
Scott lay the book carefully down on his bed, not knowing what to say. His stomach growled.
"Thanks for reminding me!" laughed Kurt. "Come on, it's lunchtime. If we hurry, we might get there before Jubes eats all the sugar in the house." He held out his hand. "Here, I'm not meant to do this, but we can take a shortcut."
Kitty coughed when they suddenly appeared in the kitchen. "Kurt!"
"Vas?" he said innocently, grabbing two chocolate chip muffins and handing one to Scott.
"Here, hold on to that before Jubes gets everything." To Kitty he said. "There any pastrami left?"
"Bottom left, behind the ham."
"Danke. Pastrami and tomato on white bread okay with you, Scott?"
What, did they think he'd complain about food? "Sure."
Kitty patted the seat beside her. "Sit down already."
He sat down next to her; the next thing he knew, a large sandwich landed in front of him and Kurt was back rummaging in the fridge.
"Kitty, did you drink all the orange mango?"
"No" she said, poking out her tongue. "Bobby helped."
"There's plain orange, grapefruit, a couple cans of pop…" Jubilee walked past and snagged the cola.
"Okay, so there's plain orange and grapefruit. You like grapefruit, Scott?"
"Uh…"
"Me neither. Orange it is, seeing as Kitty is a selfish, orange mango stealing brat."
The accused laughed. "Can it, Wagner."
Scott took a cautious bite of his sandwich, then a sip of orange juice. Kitty and Kurt were still arguing over the ethics of drinking the last of the orange mango, while Kurt defended his chocolate muffin from Jubilee, who was complaining loudly about having to settle for blueberry. Scott just sat quietly and watched them.
"You alright, Scott?" asked Kitty. "You seem kinda quiet."
"Not everyone can be blessed with your big mouth, Katzchen."
Kitty pulled a face at Kurt, then turned back to Scott.
"Yeah." he said. "I'm fine."
Logan growled softly as they got closer to their target, looking over at the young woman sleeping in the passenger seat. Jeannie. Red. LeBeau's girl.
He called her Jeannie, or Red, but inside his head she was always 'LeBeau's girl.', a sort of self-command. She is taken. She is not interested. She is at least three hundred years younger than you.
There were some days when he really just wished he couldn't remember his life. The friends and family lost; to accidents, to war, to damn blind fate, to age. Sometimes it was just a scent, and the memories would come back in a rush. Pine was Fox, memories of sneaking off into the forest together, young love, young hope. Plum blossom was Mariko, teaching him to love again, to care again, even if she'd had to drag him kicking and screaming. Sometimes it was taste – tamarind reminded him of peace found in a temple in India almost a hundred years ago; apple of a dark-eyed gypsy girl whose name he'd never known.
He was just too damn old, that was the problem. Seen too much, done too much. Too much blood on his hands, too much knowledge, too much sorrow. Too many times seeing history repeat itself. And then he'd been fooled into taking on a boy who reminded him of his son, then into helping a bright-eyed bunch of optimists.
He hated caring. It made the inevitable so much more difficult.
He poked Jeannie in the side, as the sign 'Egarton City Limit' rolled past.
"Huh?"
"We're here. Get ta work."
Jean let her mind soar, searching out the one they'd sought. Suddenly she connected, and she was pulled in…
Amanda stood on the roof, looking out at the world. Examining herself. She hadn't felt any different, when she'd woken up two days ago.
Then she'd placed one sleepy hand on the alarm clock and it had crumbled into dust.
They'd talked about this in church, and she knew what it meant. She was a mutant, a demon, a sinner.
She was damned.
Somewhere inside her head, Jean cried out, trying to reach her. Her thoughts spilled over to Wolverine, who sped along even faster than the double-the-speed-limit he was already doing.
~Amanda, we can help you~
She stared out, waiting for the dawn. ~No one can help me~
Wolverine took a screeching turn; the urgency in Jeannies thoughts was apparent.
~It doesn't have to be this way. You can learn to control this, with us. We are just like you, Amanda~
~No.~
It was like her father had told her. She looked down at her hands again. Didn't look any different, didn't feel any different.
Didn't change a thing. Like they had told her, she was better off dead.
The suns first rays slipped over the horizon, and Amanda closed her eyes, and jumped.
Wolverine slammed on the brakes as Jean cried out, her mind again in his, chaotic, sorrowful.
"Come on, Jeannie. We're too late. We have to go."
She wept.
He shrugged, and turned the car around. If he let himself still be bothered by the death of strangers, he'd have no time for anything but crying.
They stopped off to get some food; Jean, her eyes still red, sat out at the 'scenic point', swinging her legs.
"How ya feeling, darling?"
She shrugged, her burger lying discarded beside her.
"I don't know. It's just… I've never felt anything like that. God, she wanted to die so very much, and nothing I said seemed to make any difference."
Awkwardly, he crouched down and put his arms around her.
"Then maybe it wasn't ta be, Jeannie. Let it go."
At some point, she twisted in his arms, her scent changing, and then all of a sudden she was kissing him, with a kind of desperate passion.
LeBeau's girl, LeBeau's girl, LeBeau's girl. She smelt like strawberries, and he was suddenly reminded of a summer in Prague, long ago.
He broke the kiss, and she gasped, as if only now realizing what she'd done.
"Wolverine.. I didn't mean.. I mean… I don't know why I…"
He stalked away. "Forget it ever happened, Jeannie. Come on, we've got a long way ta go."
He drove nine hours straight to get them back; she slept, and he listened to the rhythm of the road and sighed.
LeBeau's girl, LeBeau's girl, LeBeau's girl. Stopped once to fill up – scent of gasoline always brought him back to his first bike, the feel of the wind, the feel of freedom. Bought an air freshener, trying to cover the scent of strawberries; it made the car smell like vanilla, and he thought of Paris the rest of the way home.
Remy LeBeau opened his eyes slowly, stretching experimentally. Christ, he felt like shit. Hank was pottering around in the other room; so he sat up slowly, wincing at the pain.
There was a little folded piece of paper left by his bed, marked 'Remy' in Jean's unmistakable script, written in pink.
He opened it, and smiled.
Dear Remy,
Hope you are feeling better; I had to go on a mission, and you weren't awake yet. Hank says you'll be fine, though, and I believe him. You look so peaceful when you sleep, you know that? Almost makes me forget what a pain in the ass you are when you're awake.
Anyway, I have to go now.
Yours Forever,
Jean
A/N: And the evilness keeps on coming g. Next, among other things, Kitten thinks about his mate, Scott tries to cope and gets closer to Kitty, and Jean and Logan… do nothing, probably. ;)