A/N
Hey everybody!! Thanks so much for all the reviews...they're greatly appreciated- I feel so special!! I hope you like this chapter- I know that this story might be confusing, but just tell me anything that y'all don't like, and I'll make the changes.
Happy holidays, everyone, and please review- what can I say, I'm a review whore...I need my fuzzlies.
Luv ya!
Molly Jeane
Hallway, Professor Xavier's School for the Gifted.
"So, what's this new girl like?" Rogue asks, panting after running to catch up to John.
"Completely deranged." he says immediately, though he can't quite help the smirk that falls on his face. "She's really hot, though." he says, and Rogue rolls her eyes.
"Completely deranged how?" she asks, and John shrugs.
"Was wielding a pair or surgical scissors as a weapon when Bobby and I walked into the room." he says, and she grimaces. He quickly defends the girl though, while not really knowing why he's coming to her aid. "I guess it's not her fault, though..." he starts, but Rogue interrupts him.
"Not her fault how?" she asks incredulously, and John gives her a knowing look. "Oh."
"The professor said that she was pretty roughed up when she got here." he explains to her, not letting her in on how close to death the girl was. "Someone really didn't like her much." he tells her, and she shakes her head sadly.
"God, that's horrible. How old is she, anyway?" Rogue asks, flicking a strand of white hair out of her eyes as they continue down the now-deserted hallway.
"The Professor's not really sure," John says, and she laughs.
"How can the Professor be unsure? He can see into everyone's mind, and know their deepest, darkest secrets." she tells him, and then pouts. "Hey, I wanna read people's minds....you could own people!" John laughs, but then she gives him her 'you better tell me now, or you'll be sorry' look.
"She has a barrier that he can't break through. Someone trained her well." he says, and Rogue nods. "She looks about our age, but she we can't quite be sure." he says, and she nods, brightening up.
"Wanna go visit her?" she asks, already heading towards the infirmary. John groans.
"You know, I've already had one too many near-death experiences, so I think I'm out." he lies, trying to play it cool.
"Please John?" she asks him, puppy dog pout firmly in place...Damn that puppy dog pout, John thinks to himself.
"Fine, but I'm bringing her chocolate..." he mutters, and Rogue looks at him, completely puzzled. He smiles sweetly. "I've learned that women are a lot less moody when there's chocolate within arm's reach."
"That's nice, really nice." Rogue says sarcastically, swatting him on the arm.
"Ow! Abuse!" he yells, grabbing where her gloved hand hit him.
"Oh shut up." she tells him, smiling softly.
Girl's room
Logan walks down the hallway, tray full food for the girl, who must be famished. He pauses outside the door, listening to the one-sided conversation between the girl and Bobby.
"And the people are pretty nice here, too. Everyone knows what it's like to feel alone, so we all feel alone together." Logan hears Bobby tell her. Hmm, pretty damn eloquent, kid. Logan thinks, smiling a little to himself, but then plastering his grimace back on. "The teachers are nice too, and they understand what we feel like, because they went through the same thing. Even Logan's pretty nice- he's always pretending he's broody and stuff, but he's really pretty cool."
Logan knocks on the door at that precise moment, and the girl looks down, hiding a smirk. Her emerald eyes flash to Bobby's reddening face, curious to see what he'll do. "Hey Logan," he says, and Logan hides a smile. "Uh, thanks for bringing the food." he says lightly, taking the tray and putting it in the girl's lap. Her face turns green.
"You've been asleep for an entire day, darlin'." Logan says in his gruff voice, "Aren't you a little hungry?" he asks her, worried that she doesn't want to eat. She shakes her head, pushing away the tray full of food.
"Come on, you have to eat." Bobby tells her, and she shakes her head indignantly. He sighs, not really knowing what to do, and looks helplessly up at Logan.
"Come on, darlin'. You have to eat. It's just chicken noodle soup and toast, there's no drugs or anything in it." he promises, and she eyes the soup momentarily, but then shakes her head again. "We really wouldn't like having to feed you through a tube, you know. And I don't think that you'd like that, either." he says, and she nods, pulling the bowl to her slowly and tentatively taking a tiny bite. She looks up hopefully and pushes the bowl away.
"Not so fast. Can you try to eat half of that bowl?" Logan asks her, and she nods, rolling her eyes. God, I'm starting to think like a parent. I need a drink. He thinks, sitting down on an empty chair next to her bed.
She eats slowly, her stomach not used to having food in it. She only ends up eating a quarter of what's in the bowl, but she also eats a piece of toast. She looks up at Logan, and he nods, taking the tray. "Do you feel all right?" he asks her, knowing that a person can get sick the first time eating solid food after nearly starving. She nods, and lays back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Bobby, why don't you go get some sleep. You look tired." he says, as Bobby leans on his palm, dozing off. The girl smiles, but it's gone in an instant.
"Well, ok, but I'll be back later." he promises the girl, while stifling a yawn. She nods, then makes a shooing motion. Logan moves to the chair nearest the bed.
"He was pretty worried about you. We all were." he says, but gets no response. She keeps staring at the ceiling, her fists clenched at her sides. "I know how you feel." he tells her, and receives the expected 'oh, really?' look. He smirks, liking this girl already. "A couple of years ago, I woke up here, too. I didn't remember anything, either, but it came back." he says, and she turns from the ceiling to give him a once-over.
She lifts up her shirt and points to the gauze-covered stab wound, and sends him a look that just dares him to top that one. "Touche." he says simply, and she nods, and returns to counting the holes in the ceiling.
Logan watches her stare at the plain white ceiling, and can't help but wonder what she's thinking of, what's behind those eyes. "So..." he starts, and she gives him a look. "Yeah, I'm not really one for small talk, either."