LeAnna sat cross-legged on a metal table in the infirmary, an e-book reader open in front of her. Larger than the average electronic organizer, the large color screen lit up her face. She hummed along with the instrumental sax playing from the MP3 player at her side.
Syrus, the large malamute laying on the floor at her feet, lifted his head.
"Hello, Gambit," she said, not bothering to look up from her reading.
"Your awareness of your surroundings never fails to astound me, cher, " the Cajon said, leaning on the door frame, "are you sure you are not a telepath?"
LeAnna snorted, "Not even. I can smell your aftershave a mile away."
"Do you like it, mon petit?"
She shot a glare at him over her e-book before pretending to return to her reading. Just because he topped six-foot-three, didn't make her five-foot six-inch frame small. And she definitely wasn't his. At 20, he couldn't exactly be called an orphan, but his childhood on the streets of New Orleans had left him short of boyfriend material. Or so she kept telling herself.
"It's great," she said airily, "for Wal-Mart."
"You wound me," he said, putting his hands over his heart in mock pain. LeAnna rolled her eyes and went back to her reading.
Letting his hands fall, he walked up to her. Resting his hip on the edge of the table beside her, he reached up and tucked a length of auburn hair behind her ear with the middle two fingers of his hand. Leanna stiffened but didn't flinch. She saw him look down at his hand out of the corner of her eye, mostly covered in a thin glove with the index, thumb and pinkie cut off, with a mixture of self-loathing and resentment.
Before she could say anything to make him feel better, he turned away from her to half sit on the table.
"How is he?" he asked, staring at the man on the med-bed in front of them. Laying on his back, with an ultra light blanket from his neck down, he looked extremely pale, and vaguely familiar.
"Still unconscious," LeAnna replied. "Maranda fixed him up as best she could, but that electric shock ran through his entire body along his metal skeleton. Fried him up pretty good."
"There you are, mate," the voice from the doorway said. LeAnna looked up to see Peter leaning his head into the room. The Aussie gestured to Gambit, "Come on, we got work to do."
Gambit sighed and pushed himself away from the table. "Till later, cher."
LeAnna watched as Gambit walked around Peter and down the hall. Peter gave her a wink before pushing himself off the door jam to follow Gambit. LeAnna shook her head and returned to her book.
The moan was just loud enough to be heard over her music.
Dumping her e-book on the table, she jumped to the floor. Hitting the ground at a run, she was at his side in three long strides.
Leaning over him, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and out of her way. His eyes blinked half open.
"You're OK," she said gently, "You're at the Mountain Side Clinic. We found you on the side of the road. You're going to be fine."
He groaned, trying to say something. She leaned closer, her hand resting on his shoulder.
He swallowed and wet his lips. "Red…"
Confused, she turned her eyes back to his face, her eyebrows pulling together, but he had already slipped back into unconsciousness.
Still trying to figure out what he meant, she took a step back, her eyes still on him.
The door in front of her slammed into the wall, making LeAnna jump.
Maranda hurried into the room, her blond hair flying behind her. "Has he regained consciousness?"
"Yeah, for just a sec," LeAnna said, "he just slipped out again."
"Did he try to hurt you?"
LeAnna's eyebrows knit closer together; this wasn't like Maranda, "Why would he try to hurt me?"
Maranda visibly relaxed, "I just got off the phone with Charles-"
"He knows Uncle Charles?" LeAnna asked, looking down at him. It looked like he hadn't shaved in a week, definitely not the type of person her Uncle normally hung around with.
Maranda made an affirmative sound, "And apparently he can be rather violent when he wakes up in a strange place."
"Well, considering his last memory is probably being electrocuted, would you blame him?" LeAnna said, looking back up at Maranda.
"True," Maranda said as she studied his vital signs. "He's resting comfortably now. I'll stay with him until Charles gets here."
"He's coming here?" LeAnna brightened; she hadn't seen him in months, "When?"
"Soon," Maranda said, a small smile playing at her lips. "Soon."
Alex turned the key and pulled it from the ignition, listening to the engine tick down. Crossing her arms over the wheel, she rested her head on them, ignoring the belt cutting into her shoulder.
She sat there for a moment, letting herself relax. It was just after six-thirty; she'd made good time. Maranda would be serving dinner in about an hour, just enough time to have a nice long bath and get changed. With luck, she'd be in bed by ten.
She straightened up and threw open the door, swearing to herself for the hundredth time that this would be her last ten day run as she undid the seatbelt. She climbed down from the cab and trudged around in the snow to give the rig the once over before heading for the house. Long-hall trucking may make big money, but the hours sucked.
Trisha was waiting for her just inside the heated sunroom. She sat in a straight-backed chair, her suit jacket folded neatly over the arm of the chair beside her. She stood as Alex came up the steps.
"Been waiting long?" Alex asked out of politeness, already knowing the answer. Trisha didn't disappoint her.
"No," she said, making no move to pick up her jacket. Something was wrong. As warm as the sunroom was, it wasn't very comfortable in the middle of winter. She wanted to talk, alone. Great.
Alex liked Trisha, had since she had found her sitting on the step of her rig six years earlier. In a real way, it had been Trisha who had found her. Trisha had said that she had seen Alex save her life and decided that the best way to stay alive was to stick to Alex's side until she did. Alex still wasn't sure she understood this logic, especially since it was her own presence that had eventually put Trisha in the position of needing to be saved. Trisha said that she survived the pre-cog, so why should she have wanted to risk changing it. Messing with temporal dynamics always gave Alex a headache.
Alex knocked the snow off her boots, waiting for the younger woman to start. At twenty-six, Trisha was one of their little groups most accomplished members. Having received her accounting designation only two years earlier, she was already a partner in a CGA firm. It never failed to amaze Alex how far she had come, especially at times like these, when she stood there, calm and collected, in her business skirt and blouse, waiting.
"Spill, Trish," Alex said, giving up waiting, the thought of a bath was just too tempting.
"The boys interrupted a kidnapping this morning."
Alex stopped her stomping. "Are they all right?"
Trisha nodded, "Peter and Gambit got away without even a scratch. The kidnapers escaped. Their victim is still unconscious."
Alex swore.
"Charles is on the way-" Trisha said.
"Charles?" Alex asked, "Why?"
"Apparently he knows the victim."
"Great," Alex said, kicking the leg of a chair. "One of his students."
"I don't think so," Trisha said, a smile touching her lips for the first time. "He's a little old for that. Anyway, Charles should be here…"
Trisha paused and Alex heard the thump of the helicopter blades. "...now."
"I'll grab a quick shower and be down in ten."
So much for a bath.
Alex got to the bottom of the stairs just as Maranda greeted Charles at the door.
"Hello, Charles. I was wondering when you would get here."
Charles smiled, "I couldn't get away as quickly as I would have liked. Is he awake?"
"No." Maranda said. "He regained consciousness for a few moments but is sleeping peacefully now."
"Did he try to hurt you?"
Maranda shook her head. "I was on the phone with you at the time, but no, he made no move to hurt anyone."
At 58, Maranda was a beautiful woman, and totally taken with Charles. For a telepath, who was attracted to her too, he wasn't being very smart about the whole thing. Alex had approached them both. Maranda had said she was too stuck in her ways to change, and Charles just smiled and changed the subject. But then, love never did anyone any good anyway.
Alex accepted the apathy in that statement and stepped out into the hall.
Charles looked up at Maranda, hearing the muted echoes of her thoughts at the edge of his awareness. She was stressed. Worrying, not only about Logan, but everyone else as well. Trisha was overworking. Kat was spending more time in the computer then in the real world. Peter had taken Gambit, the newest edition to their little 'family' under his wing, and she was just waiting for him to be burned, figuratively of course, it was the only type of fire he couldn't control. LeAnna was withdrawing from people her age, especially the boys. And Alex, well Alex was trying to deal with, and fix, all of this, and she was working her self into the ground trying to keep the struggling clinic running.
And Maranda? he pushed gently.
That got a wry grin. Maranda was trying to deal with the fact that no one came to her clinic because they didn't want to be labeled a mutant.
You could always come and work for me.
That got a light chuckle.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Charles turned towards the voice and for one heart stopping moment, he saw Elizabeth standing before him. Her red hair falling in waves about her shoulders. Her welcoming smile. Her warm green eyes. But as quickly as it had come, the vision faded, and his sister slipped back into his memories. "Hello, Alexandra."
Her laugh echoed her mothers in his mind. "Your never going to call me Alex, are you Uncle?"
He suddenly realized that he could not read her. He pushed gently, but still nothing. "You're blocking."
"Even this old dog can learn new tricks," she said, her smile growing.
"You had to say that in the face of your elders, didn't you?" Maranda said, feigning annoyance.
"Yeah," Alexandra said, "the only two here."
Alex leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek, "Is that better?"
She lowered her defenses and welcomed him into her home.
"Maranda," Kat's voice filled the hall, "he's awaking up."
"Hello Katrina."
"Hi, Uncle X, how ya been?"
"Good, and yourself?"
"Can't complain," Katrina paused, "You might want to get a move on. He might not be so polite this time."
"After you," Alexandra said, stepping out of the way.
Alex followed them down the hall, Charles's wheelchair keeping up with Maranda's brisk doctor walk. Alex trailed behind.
Just outside the double doors to the clinic, she heard the sound of footfalls behind her. Turning, she saw Scott jogging up to her with a wide smile.
"Hi, Alex. How are you?"
"Can't complain, you?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the double door open, before Charles greeted their guest, "Hello, Logan."
Alex froze, no longer hearing Scott, before turning slowly towards the clinic. Sitting on one of the beds, looking at her, was him.
Hot fury worked its way up her throat, and she fought the desperate urge to throw up. Every cell in her body screamed to kill him. Kill him for what he had done to her.
Syrus, the large malamute laying on the floor at her feet, lifted his head.
"Hello, Gambit," she said, not bothering to look up from her reading.
"Your awareness of your surroundings never fails to astound me, cher, " the Cajon said, leaning on the door frame, "are you sure you are not a telepath?"
LeAnna snorted, "Not even. I can smell your aftershave a mile away."
"Do you like it, mon petit?"
She shot a glare at him over her e-book before pretending to return to her reading. Just because he topped six-foot-three, didn't make her five-foot six-inch frame small. And she definitely wasn't his. At 20, he couldn't exactly be called an orphan, but his childhood on the streets of New Orleans had left him short of boyfriend material. Or so she kept telling herself.
"It's great," she said airily, "for Wal-Mart."
"You wound me," he said, putting his hands over his heart in mock pain. LeAnna rolled her eyes and went back to her reading.
Letting his hands fall, he walked up to her. Resting his hip on the edge of the table beside her, he reached up and tucked a length of auburn hair behind her ear with the middle two fingers of his hand. Leanna stiffened but didn't flinch. She saw him look down at his hand out of the corner of her eye, mostly covered in a thin glove with the index, thumb and pinkie cut off, with a mixture of self-loathing and resentment.
Before she could say anything to make him feel better, he turned away from her to half sit on the table.
"How is he?" he asked, staring at the man on the med-bed in front of them. Laying on his back, with an ultra light blanket from his neck down, he looked extremely pale, and vaguely familiar.
"Still unconscious," LeAnna replied. "Maranda fixed him up as best she could, but that electric shock ran through his entire body along his metal skeleton. Fried him up pretty good."
"There you are, mate," the voice from the doorway said. LeAnna looked up to see Peter leaning his head into the room. The Aussie gestured to Gambit, "Come on, we got work to do."
Gambit sighed and pushed himself away from the table. "Till later, cher."
LeAnna watched as Gambit walked around Peter and down the hall. Peter gave her a wink before pushing himself off the door jam to follow Gambit. LeAnna shook her head and returned to her book.
The moan was just loud enough to be heard over her music.
Dumping her e-book on the table, she jumped to the floor. Hitting the ground at a run, she was at his side in three long strides.
Leaning over him, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and out of her way. His eyes blinked half open.
"You're OK," she said gently, "You're at the Mountain Side Clinic. We found you on the side of the road. You're going to be fine."
He groaned, trying to say something. She leaned closer, her hand resting on his shoulder.
He swallowed and wet his lips. "Red…"
Confused, she turned her eyes back to his face, her eyebrows pulling together, but he had already slipped back into unconsciousness.
Still trying to figure out what he meant, she took a step back, her eyes still on him.
The door in front of her slammed into the wall, making LeAnna jump.
Maranda hurried into the room, her blond hair flying behind her. "Has he regained consciousness?"
"Yeah, for just a sec," LeAnna said, "he just slipped out again."
"Did he try to hurt you?"
LeAnna's eyebrows knit closer together; this wasn't like Maranda, "Why would he try to hurt me?"
Maranda visibly relaxed, "I just got off the phone with Charles-"
"He knows Uncle Charles?" LeAnna asked, looking down at him. It looked like he hadn't shaved in a week, definitely not the type of person her Uncle normally hung around with.
Maranda made an affirmative sound, "And apparently he can be rather violent when he wakes up in a strange place."
"Well, considering his last memory is probably being electrocuted, would you blame him?" LeAnna said, looking back up at Maranda.
"True," Maranda said as she studied his vital signs. "He's resting comfortably now. I'll stay with him until Charles gets here."
"He's coming here?" LeAnna brightened; she hadn't seen him in months, "When?"
"Soon," Maranda said, a small smile playing at her lips. "Soon."
Alex turned the key and pulled it from the ignition, listening to the engine tick down. Crossing her arms over the wheel, she rested her head on them, ignoring the belt cutting into her shoulder.
She sat there for a moment, letting herself relax. It was just after six-thirty; she'd made good time. Maranda would be serving dinner in about an hour, just enough time to have a nice long bath and get changed. With luck, she'd be in bed by ten.
She straightened up and threw open the door, swearing to herself for the hundredth time that this would be her last ten day run as she undid the seatbelt. She climbed down from the cab and trudged around in the snow to give the rig the once over before heading for the house. Long-hall trucking may make big money, but the hours sucked.
Trisha was waiting for her just inside the heated sunroom. She sat in a straight-backed chair, her suit jacket folded neatly over the arm of the chair beside her. She stood as Alex came up the steps.
"Been waiting long?" Alex asked out of politeness, already knowing the answer. Trisha didn't disappoint her.
"No," she said, making no move to pick up her jacket. Something was wrong. As warm as the sunroom was, it wasn't very comfortable in the middle of winter. She wanted to talk, alone. Great.
Alex liked Trisha, had since she had found her sitting on the step of her rig six years earlier. In a real way, it had been Trisha who had found her. Trisha had said that she had seen Alex save her life and decided that the best way to stay alive was to stick to Alex's side until she did. Alex still wasn't sure she understood this logic, especially since it was her own presence that had eventually put Trisha in the position of needing to be saved. Trisha said that she survived the pre-cog, so why should she have wanted to risk changing it. Messing with temporal dynamics always gave Alex a headache.
Alex knocked the snow off her boots, waiting for the younger woman to start. At twenty-six, Trisha was one of their little groups most accomplished members. Having received her accounting designation only two years earlier, she was already a partner in a CGA firm. It never failed to amaze Alex how far she had come, especially at times like these, when she stood there, calm and collected, in her business skirt and blouse, waiting.
"Spill, Trish," Alex said, giving up waiting, the thought of a bath was just too tempting.
"The boys interrupted a kidnapping this morning."
Alex stopped her stomping. "Are they all right?"
Trisha nodded, "Peter and Gambit got away without even a scratch. The kidnapers escaped. Their victim is still unconscious."
Alex swore.
"Charles is on the way-" Trisha said.
"Charles?" Alex asked, "Why?"
"Apparently he knows the victim."
"Great," Alex said, kicking the leg of a chair. "One of his students."
"I don't think so," Trisha said, a smile touching her lips for the first time. "He's a little old for that. Anyway, Charles should be here…"
Trisha paused and Alex heard the thump of the helicopter blades. "...now."
"I'll grab a quick shower and be down in ten."
So much for a bath.
Alex got to the bottom of the stairs just as Maranda greeted Charles at the door.
"Hello, Charles. I was wondering when you would get here."
Charles smiled, "I couldn't get away as quickly as I would have liked. Is he awake?"
"No." Maranda said. "He regained consciousness for a few moments but is sleeping peacefully now."
"Did he try to hurt you?"
Maranda shook her head. "I was on the phone with you at the time, but no, he made no move to hurt anyone."
At 58, Maranda was a beautiful woman, and totally taken with Charles. For a telepath, who was attracted to her too, he wasn't being very smart about the whole thing. Alex had approached them both. Maranda had said she was too stuck in her ways to change, and Charles just smiled and changed the subject. But then, love never did anyone any good anyway.
Alex accepted the apathy in that statement and stepped out into the hall.
Charles looked up at Maranda, hearing the muted echoes of her thoughts at the edge of his awareness. She was stressed. Worrying, not only about Logan, but everyone else as well. Trisha was overworking. Kat was spending more time in the computer then in the real world. Peter had taken Gambit, the newest edition to their little 'family' under his wing, and she was just waiting for him to be burned, figuratively of course, it was the only type of fire he couldn't control. LeAnna was withdrawing from people her age, especially the boys. And Alex, well Alex was trying to deal with, and fix, all of this, and she was working her self into the ground trying to keep the struggling clinic running.
And Maranda? he pushed gently.
That got a wry grin. Maranda was trying to deal with the fact that no one came to her clinic because they didn't want to be labeled a mutant.
You could always come and work for me.
That got a light chuckle.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Charles turned towards the voice and for one heart stopping moment, he saw Elizabeth standing before him. Her red hair falling in waves about her shoulders. Her welcoming smile. Her warm green eyes. But as quickly as it had come, the vision faded, and his sister slipped back into his memories. "Hello, Alexandra."
Her laugh echoed her mothers in his mind. "Your never going to call me Alex, are you Uncle?"
He suddenly realized that he could not read her. He pushed gently, but still nothing. "You're blocking."
"Even this old dog can learn new tricks," she said, her smile growing.
"You had to say that in the face of your elders, didn't you?" Maranda said, feigning annoyance.
"Yeah," Alexandra said, "the only two here."
Alex leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek, "Is that better?"
She lowered her defenses and welcomed him into her home.
"Maranda," Kat's voice filled the hall, "he's awaking up."
"Hello Katrina."
"Hi, Uncle X, how ya been?"
"Good, and yourself?"
"Can't complain," Katrina paused, "You might want to get a move on. He might not be so polite this time."
"After you," Alexandra said, stepping out of the way.
Alex followed them down the hall, Charles's wheelchair keeping up with Maranda's brisk doctor walk. Alex trailed behind.
Just outside the double doors to the clinic, she heard the sound of footfalls behind her. Turning, she saw Scott jogging up to her with a wide smile.
"Hi, Alex. How are you?"
"Can't complain, you?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the double door open, before Charles greeted their guest, "Hello, Logan."
Alex froze, no longer hearing Scott, before turning slowly towards the clinic. Sitting on one of the beds, looking at her, was him.
Hot fury worked its way up her throat, and she fought the desperate urge to throw up. Every cell in her body screamed to kill him. Kill him for what he had done to her.