Charles stared at the place Alexandra had disappeared. Still in shock from the feelings he had felt wash from her. It was palpable, Charles could still taste it. It had been so intense that he couldn't pinpoint who it had been aimed at, but there was really only one possible target.
Scott appeared in the doorway, rubbing his shoulder, What was that about?
Charles got a quick flash of Alexandra running into Scott and not even stopping to apologies.
Since he didn't have an answer, he didn't try to give him one.
Instead, he turned his attention to Logan. He sat on the med-bed, his arms resting in his lap, glaring at Scott. Scott's cocky grin wasn't helping.
"Hello, Logan."
Logan pulled his gaze from Scott. The look he gave Charles was a little less easy to read. But Charles knew he was confused, and not just by the attack.
"What are you doing in this neck of the woods?"
"Maranda called me-"
"Maranda?"
"This is Doctor Maranda Jones. She saved your life."
Logan chuckled, giving the slim doctor the once over. Her gently smiling face didn't look old enough for the gray that peppered her hair. "Thanks for the help Doc, but I doubt you-"
"You're right, you probably would have recovered from the massive, and probably sustained, shock that coursed through your entire skeleton, in time. But in the future, Mr. Logan, you should probably stay away from high voltage electricity."
"I seem to be alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. She gave a light laugh, and Charles smiled, giving Logan the impression that he was missing something.
"She's a healer, Mate," the large man who had been leaning on the wall by the door said. "A Mutant like the rest of us."
Logan simply lifted an eyebrow.
"Peter MacAllister." He stepped forward, extending his hand, "But you can call me Kindle."
"Kindle?" Logan asked. The man's grip was strong and warm. He released Logan's hand and stepped back. He curled his fingers up and almost instantaneously flames consumed his hand. Fire licked his fingers to spiral up almost two feet, each of the five flames distinct. Just as fast as they appeared, the flames vanished.
Kindle tossed something at him with his other hand. The soft bundle hit Logan in the chest, his arms instinctively closing around it. He looked down at the bundle then up at Kindle.
"I thought you might want some clothes," he said, and smiled, "It's a bit chilly to be sitting around in your boxers."
Logan laughed, realizing he was right. Pulling the bundle apart, he got of the bed and began to pull on the pants. As he pulled the sweatshirt over his head he did a quick check of the room. Besides Kindle, who he had a feeling he was going to like, Summers, who he didn't, Charles, and Maranda, there were three other females and another male. All appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties. Great, another school.
"Let me introduce you, mate. That there is Gambit," Kindle said, gesturing towards the boy.
"Nice to meet you, mon amie," the Cajun said, saluting him with a playing card. The card glowed bright for a moment, before fading back to normal. Gambit shuffled it back into the deck in his hand.
"This is the Oracle," Kindle continued the introductions, "Trisha Delaine."
She gave him a warm smile. She was pretty, if a little on the short side, her looks enhanced by the well-cut suit-skirt and blouse.
"That is Kat Walker, Lynx, and her little sister, LeAnna."
Though both girls were extremely beautiful, they looked nothing alike. The older had short black hair and high cheekbones, the younger was pale, with long red hair, and looked oddly familiar. It had to do with her hair, with Red.
"What's the dress for dinner?" Kat asked, shattering Logan's train of thought.
"Semi formal, as usual," the doctor answered, not surprised by the sudden interruption. She smiled down at Xavier, "You're welcome to join us, of course."
"Great," Logan said, pushing away from the bed, "I'm starved."
"Good," she said, stepping up to him, "Back on the bed please."
Logan looked at her.
"You can join us, but you're* not leaving this room until I examine you again."
Logan saw Xavier and Kindle over her shoulder, by the amused looks on their faces he figured he better do as he was told. Though he doubted she could stop him, the rest could probably do some damage before he could get anywhere. Not that he had anywhere to go.
He expected everyone to leave, they didn't. OK, so he wouldn't undress.
Before he could even lie down, She stepped up to him, holding her hand less than an inch over the center of his chest.
"Good, the remaining damage to your heart has been repaired," she said, her eyes closed. She moved her hand over his torso, "As has the rest of the damage."
"Like I said, I'm fine."
She arched an eyebrow but didn't open her eyes. "You should stop smoking."
"Why? I can heal-"
"Yes you can, but it doesn't mean that you can expel tar from your lungs like air," she said, opening her eyes, "Sooner rather than later it's going to effect you."
She closed her eyes and began to move her hand over his abdomen, then lower.
It was Logan's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Your lucky that the male genitalia is located outside of the body."
Logan's jaw dropped, but she continued in her detached clinical voice, "It avoided the worst of the electoral arcing. I'm not sure that even your remarkable healing abilities would be able to help a woman who sustained the same trauma."
Not that it matters, Logan thought, I can't have children anyway.
After quickly running her hands over his on the table, she placed her hands on either side of his head, much like Jean had.
Who do you think Jean was mimicking? he heard Xavier's voice followed by a chuckle in his head, Me?
Logan's eyes locked with Xavier's. He had forgotten how powerful a telepath he was, and he was uneasy about having him poking around in his head.
Xavier made no reply.
"Charles tells me that you are suffering from amnesia."
Logan grunted an answer.
"Well, I can tell you the original physical cause."
That got Logan's full attention.
"What? How?" He didn't ask what he most wanted to know: Can it be fixed?
"From what I can tell, it was another sustained electrical burst, coupled with the infusion of adamantium. The alloy reacted with the myelin sheath. It was only your recuperative powers that saved you from being totally paralyzed, even your heart, causing death. But, unlike the rest of your body, and even most of your brain, that was able to replace the incapacitated neurons, the areas related to declarative memory have remained coated. The amount is insufficient to be picked up by even Charles's equipment. Anyway, as the brain does when it is damaged, it quarantined off the area with glial cells-"
"In English, Doc." Kindle cut in.
"Basically, when the adamantium was infused onto his bones, it left lasting damage to the part of the brain responsible for remembering personal history. He could still walk and talk, but had lost all memory of personally experienced events.
"The braid cornered off the damaged area and it was never repaired."
"But he's experienced brain damage since and not been effected," Summers interjected.
"It had to do with either the electrical charge or the adamantium, or a drug he was on at the time."
Logan took a deep breath, "Can it be fixed."
"Yes, I could remove the adamantium and the quarantine cells."
For the first time Logan could remember, he could honestly say he was on cloud nine.
"But even I can't make neurons grow."
Logan hit the ground with a thud. He remembered why he hated to fly.
"Would trying do any more damage?" Logan's voice sounded toneless even to himself.
Maranda shrugged, "At the moment, your memories are perfectly preserved. If we could maintain cognitive connection, they would be as clear as the day of the experiment. And besides having to deal with the unavoidable psychological damage that event would cause, if we could not get reconnection, there is a good chance that the memories would fade, the space in your brain being taken up by other memories."
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Logan muttered.
"Logan," Maranda said, forcing eye contact, "If Charles and I can't help you, there's no one that can."
She stepped away from him, "Think about it."
"Perhaps, he think better on a full stomach, no?" Gambit put in.
Maranda laughed and shook her head, "Go get changed."
Logan watched as everyone left, not sure what to do. He couldn't go to a semi formal dinner in sweats. Well, he could, but he doubted it would go over well.
"Come on, mate," Kindle said, the last to leave, "I think we should be able to get you something to wear."
Five minutes later, Logan stood in one of the house's guest rooms, staring at a large closet of clothes of every description. All he could manage to ask was "Why?"
"We're sort of a halfway house for mutants on the run," Kindle said, shoulder deep in shirts, "Most of the people who stay with us can't bring anything with them, or they can't take it when they go. Alex likes them to feel at home while they are here."
"Alex?"
"Yeah, she's the leader of this brumby mob. You haven't met her yet." He pulled out a shirt. "Here it is."
It was frosted black silk to go with the black dress pants. Definitely not what Logan would have chosen for himself. He looked at Kindle.
"It's not my idea, mate." Kindle tapped the side of his head.
Logan lifted an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you didn't get one?"
"One what?"
Kindle just sighed and moved away from him. Logan turned and watched him rummage around in the top drawer of one of the night stands.
"The whole house is rigged for sound, sight, too, for that matter, but she prefers not to use the overhead speakers if it isn't an emergency, says it's impersonal. Ah," he said, pulling a box from the drawer, "here it is."
He flipped open the lid and pulled something out. Dropping the box back into the drawer, he squinted down at the piece of black plastic between his fingers. "Sarah, love, could you please rig number 25 for Logan here."
"Sarah?" If there were many more names his head was going to explode.
Kindle just smiled and handed the piece of plastic to Logan. It appeared to be a small hearing aid. He looked up at Kindle, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
"She ain't going to hurt you, mate."
What the hell, Logan thought and slid the ear piece into his left ear.
"Hello," a female voice purred.
"Logan," Kindle said, a smile playing on his lips, "let me introduce you to our AI, the Security and Environmental Regulating system, Archetype: Habitat. She knows exactly where you are and hears everything you say. If you need anything, just ask. And if you want to talk to any of us, she can patch you through. That's how LeAnna chose your attire for the evening."
Great, Big Brothers-Are-Us.
"I'll see you at dinner," Kindle said moving towards the door.
Before Logan could ask where the dining room was, Kindle was gone.
"Great, just great."
"You are distressed," the voice in his ear purred.
"How am I going to get to dinner?"
"When you are prepared, I will guide you there. I could of course tell you how to get there now, but I have found that organics tend to forget directions quickly."
Arrogant too. Logan paused as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, But of course, it's female.
Logan took the last turn into the dining room. He rolled his shoulders under the black shirt. It felt good to wear silk again...except he couldn't remember ever wearing silk.
They were all there, Xavier, Summers, Kindle, and he fought to put names to the rest of them. LeAnna and her 'sister' Kat/Lynx. The Doc, Gambit, and...what's her name, the business type, the Oracle...ah, Trisha. God, these people had too many names.
A door opened at the far end of the room. All he could do was stare.
Her legs grew out of suede black pumps and seemed to go on forever. Her black skirt brushed her knees. Her emerald green angora sweater hugged her curves. Her smooth skin would smell of peaches, her full lips would taste of watermelon. Except her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her inviting green eyes were shooting daggers that Summers unfiltered gaze would be hard pressed to match.
One of the men in the room whistled and Logan's first instinct was to deck him.
This all left one huge question: Who was this beautiful stranger?
Scott appeared in the doorway, rubbing his shoulder, What was that about?
Charles got a quick flash of Alexandra running into Scott and not even stopping to apologies.
Since he didn't have an answer, he didn't try to give him one.
Instead, he turned his attention to Logan. He sat on the med-bed, his arms resting in his lap, glaring at Scott. Scott's cocky grin wasn't helping.
"Hello, Logan."
Logan pulled his gaze from Scott. The look he gave Charles was a little less easy to read. But Charles knew he was confused, and not just by the attack.
"What are you doing in this neck of the woods?"
"Maranda called me-"
"Maranda?"
"This is Doctor Maranda Jones. She saved your life."
Logan chuckled, giving the slim doctor the once over. Her gently smiling face didn't look old enough for the gray that peppered her hair. "Thanks for the help Doc, but I doubt you-"
"You're right, you probably would have recovered from the massive, and probably sustained, shock that coursed through your entire skeleton, in time. But in the future, Mr. Logan, you should probably stay away from high voltage electricity."
"I seem to be alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. She gave a light laugh, and Charles smiled, giving Logan the impression that he was missing something.
"She's a healer, Mate," the large man who had been leaning on the wall by the door said. "A Mutant like the rest of us."
Logan simply lifted an eyebrow.
"Peter MacAllister." He stepped forward, extending his hand, "But you can call me Kindle."
"Kindle?" Logan asked. The man's grip was strong and warm. He released Logan's hand and stepped back. He curled his fingers up and almost instantaneously flames consumed his hand. Fire licked his fingers to spiral up almost two feet, each of the five flames distinct. Just as fast as they appeared, the flames vanished.
Kindle tossed something at him with his other hand. The soft bundle hit Logan in the chest, his arms instinctively closing around it. He looked down at the bundle then up at Kindle.
"I thought you might want some clothes," he said, and smiled, "It's a bit chilly to be sitting around in your boxers."
Logan laughed, realizing he was right. Pulling the bundle apart, he got of the bed and began to pull on the pants. As he pulled the sweatshirt over his head he did a quick check of the room. Besides Kindle, who he had a feeling he was going to like, Summers, who he didn't, Charles, and Maranda, there were three other females and another male. All appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties. Great, another school.
"Let me introduce you, mate. That there is Gambit," Kindle said, gesturing towards the boy.
"Nice to meet you, mon amie," the Cajun said, saluting him with a playing card. The card glowed bright for a moment, before fading back to normal. Gambit shuffled it back into the deck in his hand.
"This is the Oracle," Kindle continued the introductions, "Trisha Delaine."
She gave him a warm smile. She was pretty, if a little on the short side, her looks enhanced by the well-cut suit-skirt and blouse.
"That is Kat Walker, Lynx, and her little sister, LeAnna."
Though both girls were extremely beautiful, they looked nothing alike. The older had short black hair and high cheekbones, the younger was pale, with long red hair, and looked oddly familiar. It had to do with her hair, with Red.
"What's the dress for dinner?" Kat asked, shattering Logan's train of thought.
"Semi formal, as usual," the doctor answered, not surprised by the sudden interruption. She smiled down at Xavier, "You're welcome to join us, of course."
"Great," Logan said, pushing away from the bed, "I'm starved."
"Good," she said, stepping up to him, "Back on the bed please."
Logan looked at her.
"You can join us, but you're* not leaving this room until I examine you again."
Logan saw Xavier and Kindle over her shoulder, by the amused looks on their faces he figured he better do as he was told. Though he doubted she could stop him, the rest could probably do some damage before he could get anywhere. Not that he had anywhere to go.
He expected everyone to leave, they didn't. OK, so he wouldn't undress.
Before he could even lie down, She stepped up to him, holding her hand less than an inch over the center of his chest.
"Good, the remaining damage to your heart has been repaired," she said, her eyes closed. She moved her hand over his torso, "As has the rest of the damage."
"Like I said, I'm fine."
She arched an eyebrow but didn't open her eyes. "You should stop smoking."
"Why? I can heal-"
"Yes you can, but it doesn't mean that you can expel tar from your lungs like air," she said, opening her eyes, "Sooner rather than later it's going to effect you."
She closed her eyes and began to move her hand over his abdomen, then lower.
It was Logan's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Your lucky that the male genitalia is located outside of the body."
Logan's jaw dropped, but she continued in her detached clinical voice, "It avoided the worst of the electoral arcing. I'm not sure that even your remarkable healing abilities would be able to help a woman who sustained the same trauma."
Not that it matters, Logan thought, I can't have children anyway.
After quickly running her hands over his on the table, she placed her hands on either side of his head, much like Jean had.
Who do you think Jean was mimicking? he heard Xavier's voice followed by a chuckle in his head, Me?
Logan's eyes locked with Xavier's. He had forgotten how powerful a telepath he was, and he was uneasy about having him poking around in his head.
Xavier made no reply.
"Charles tells me that you are suffering from amnesia."
Logan grunted an answer.
"Well, I can tell you the original physical cause."
That got Logan's full attention.
"What? How?" He didn't ask what he most wanted to know: Can it be fixed?
"From what I can tell, it was another sustained electrical burst, coupled with the infusion of adamantium. The alloy reacted with the myelin sheath. It was only your recuperative powers that saved you from being totally paralyzed, even your heart, causing death. But, unlike the rest of your body, and even most of your brain, that was able to replace the incapacitated neurons, the areas related to declarative memory have remained coated. The amount is insufficient to be picked up by even Charles's equipment. Anyway, as the brain does when it is damaged, it quarantined off the area with glial cells-"
"In English, Doc." Kindle cut in.
"Basically, when the adamantium was infused onto his bones, it left lasting damage to the part of the brain responsible for remembering personal history. He could still walk and talk, but had lost all memory of personally experienced events.
"The braid cornered off the damaged area and it was never repaired."
"But he's experienced brain damage since and not been effected," Summers interjected.
"It had to do with either the electrical charge or the adamantium, or a drug he was on at the time."
Logan took a deep breath, "Can it be fixed."
"Yes, I could remove the adamantium and the quarantine cells."
For the first time Logan could remember, he could honestly say he was on cloud nine.
"But even I can't make neurons grow."
Logan hit the ground with a thud. He remembered why he hated to fly.
"Would trying do any more damage?" Logan's voice sounded toneless even to himself.
Maranda shrugged, "At the moment, your memories are perfectly preserved. If we could maintain cognitive connection, they would be as clear as the day of the experiment. And besides having to deal with the unavoidable psychological damage that event would cause, if we could not get reconnection, there is a good chance that the memories would fade, the space in your brain being taken up by other memories."
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Logan muttered.
"Logan," Maranda said, forcing eye contact, "If Charles and I can't help you, there's no one that can."
She stepped away from him, "Think about it."
"Perhaps, he think better on a full stomach, no?" Gambit put in.
Maranda laughed and shook her head, "Go get changed."
Logan watched as everyone left, not sure what to do. He couldn't go to a semi formal dinner in sweats. Well, he could, but he doubted it would go over well.
"Come on, mate," Kindle said, the last to leave, "I think we should be able to get you something to wear."
Five minutes later, Logan stood in one of the house's guest rooms, staring at a large closet of clothes of every description. All he could manage to ask was "Why?"
"We're sort of a halfway house for mutants on the run," Kindle said, shoulder deep in shirts, "Most of the people who stay with us can't bring anything with them, or they can't take it when they go. Alex likes them to feel at home while they are here."
"Alex?"
"Yeah, she's the leader of this brumby mob. You haven't met her yet." He pulled out a shirt. "Here it is."
It was frosted black silk to go with the black dress pants. Definitely not what Logan would have chosen for himself. He looked at Kindle.
"It's not my idea, mate." Kindle tapped the side of his head.
Logan lifted an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you didn't get one?"
"One what?"
Kindle just sighed and moved away from him. Logan turned and watched him rummage around in the top drawer of one of the night stands.
"The whole house is rigged for sound, sight, too, for that matter, but she prefers not to use the overhead speakers if it isn't an emergency, says it's impersonal. Ah," he said, pulling a box from the drawer, "here it is."
He flipped open the lid and pulled something out. Dropping the box back into the drawer, he squinted down at the piece of black plastic between his fingers. "Sarah, love, could you please rig number 25 for Logan here."
"Sarah?" If there were many more names his head was going to explode.
Kindle just smiled and handed the piece of plastic to Logan. It appeared to be a small hearing aid. He looked up at Kindle, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
"She ain't going to hurt you, mate."
What the hell, Logan thought and slid the ear piece into his left ear.
"Hello," a female voice purred.
"Logan," Kindle said, a smile playing on his lips, "let me introduce you to our AI, the Security and Environmental Regulating system, Archetype: Habitat. She knows exactly where you are and hears everything you say. If you need anything, just ask. And if you want to talk to any of us, she can patch you through. That's how LeAnna chose your attire for the evening."
Great, Big Brothers-Are-Us.
"I'll see you at dinner," Kindle said moving towards the door.
Before Logan could ask where the dining room was, Kindle was gone.
"Great, just great."
"You are distressed," the voice in his ear purred.
"How am I going to get to dinner?"
"When you are prepared, I will guide you there. I could of course tell you how to get there now, but I have found that organics tend to forget directions quickly."
Arrogant too. Logan paused as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, But of course, it's female.
Logan took the last turn into the dining room. He rolled his shoulders under the black shirt. It felt good to wear silk again...except he couldn't remember ever wearing silk.
They were all there, Xavier, Summers, Kindle, and he fought to put names to the rest of them. LeAnna and her 'sister' Kat/Lynx. The Doc, Gambit, and...what's her name, the business type, the Oracle...ah, Trisha. God, these people had too many names.
A door opened at the far end of the room. All he could do was stare.
Her legs grew out of suede black pumps and seemed to go on forever. Her black skirt brushed her knees. Her emerald green angora sweater hugged her curves. Her smooth skin would smell of peaches, her full lips would taste of watermelon. Except her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her inviting green eyes were shooting daggers that Summers unfiltered gaze would be hard pressed to match.
One of the men in the room whistled and Logan's first instinct was to deck him.
This all left one huge question: Who was this beautiful stranger?