Note: School sucks. I mean that literally. It just sucks all the energy and creativity out of you. Well, finally updating.

Ch. 2

Leave it to me to get lost! Of course I could always write myself there, couldn't I? Yeah and pop up right in front of Wolverine. Can you say dead?

Coyote sighed in frustration. That was the third taxi that had whizzed by her in the last half hour. One had actually stopped, that is until some guy in a rumpled suit pushed her back and got into the cab himself. Jerk!

*Thwack!* Coyote's head met the awesome force of a brick. Her last conscience thoughts before the darkness claimed her were these: Aw crap.

"Nice going, Rogue."

"Aw, shuddup Bobby. It's not like Ah did it on purpose. Ah was just puchin' a wall and there she was," replied an exasperated Rogue.

"You could have broken her head open. Rogue, you must be more careful," Came Beast's deep voice.

"I know, I know! Jeez, just help her, okay?" Rogue sounded as if she was going to burst. Just then a moan erupted from the bed.

"Where, where am I?" croaked the girl.

"You're at the MedLab of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters," came Beast's soothing voice.

Slowly the girl opened one eye and promptly shut it exclaiming, "Too bright! Too bright!"

"Yes, well, sorry. I do need you to open your eyes though. I must check if you have a concussion."

Another groan. "Ohhh, my head!"

"Now, open your eyes. That's it, slowly. Now follow the light, that a girl."

"Oh, please Hank. I'm sure she's fine. She's young, her head's as hard as mine." As if to prove his point, Bobby knocked on the girl's head. He was rewarded in a likewise manner.

Bobby found himself on the floor with a huge pick spot on his face. The girl had a look of pain and utter hatred for Bobby.

"I kill you if you do it again," she said coldly.

Picking himself up and brushing off the imaginary dust (Hank would kill if so much as a speck got in there) he replied, "No problem Doll. I won't."

"And don't call me Doll, Booby!"

"It's Bobby. One O."

"I know. That was supposed to be an insult."

Before the fight could escalate, Hank interrupted, "Well, it seems your mental faculties are working just fine. Now, a few more tests and you should be up and out in no time." Hank paused, "Now, what is your name?"

". . . I, uh, don't know."

"Puh-lease!" exclaimed Bobby.

"Really, I don't!" In truth, she couldn't remember, nothing at all. Not her name, her age, not even her favorite T.V. show. Nothing came to mind when she tried to think of who or what she was or liked.

Guilt trip time. "Ah'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean to hurt you," Rogue babbled on and on and on.

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Okay, what anybody think? Alright, must find a plot!