Disclaimer: All the X-Men and the universe this fic is set in are owned by Marvel. No profit is being made from this work.
Chapter Four
Storm didn't head upstairs but down. She'd heard Wolverine arriving on his bike, which really was his now, and wanted to tell him about Butcher. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen and the Danger Room was active.
Still trying to tire yourself out?
She wrote him a brief note, saying she'd agreed to try someone as a new teacher and would explain in the morning, taped it to the inside of the elevator where he'd see it and left him to work off his nightmares.
Butcher meanwhile was writing an e-mail. I love broadband connections. Jimmy might not get it for a few days, but he'd want to know about the scratch marks she'd seen. Wish I could go downstairs. Might be more to see…
She tagged a postscript on to tell him not to come south just yet, sent the email, did her stretches out of habit and tried to sleep.
Next morning dawned right on schedule, to the sounds of overenthusiastic birds and teenagers who would rather sleep. Butcher was up, dressed and ready in plenty of time for the excitement of dorm inspection.
"We only do the girls," explained Storm, "A colleague does the boys, you'll meet him later. The rules are simple: beds made, floors clear and clean, everything put away."
"Even schoolwork?"
"Schoolwork they can leave on their desks. And do, without exception. Ready?"
"When you are."
The dorms were in the state one might expect. Almost everyone had something unfinished, most of them stopping work only when the door was opened, but only one room was actually required to do the job again.
"Rogue, what part of 'do your room before you go out' did you fail to understand?"
"Sorry, I was in a hurry…" Matching actions to words, she tidied like lighting. Clothes into drawers, books onto shelves – small plastic box inside glove?
"Rogue, what's that?"
"It's nothing, Storm, it's just – it's nothing."
"Just what, Rogue?"
Rogue bit her lip as Storm retrieved the object.
"Rogue, this is what they were using in the cure guns."
"It's insurance. Just in case."
"Where did you get it?"
Rogue said nothing.
"Fine. I shall destroy it."
"You can't!"
"If I don't know where it's from, I can't be sure it's safe."
"Peter gave it to me, last night, he brought it back from Alcatraz. I didn't ask him to! He said the cure works like a vaccine, and lots of vaccines need boosters or they stop working, and he said – he said he understood why I needed the cure, so he got me that so it wouldn't ever wear off. I'm only supposed to use it if my powers come back."
Storm looked at Butcher. "You're the scientist. Is she right?"
"The cure is an artificial antibody. It's certainly conceivable that a second dose might be needed eventually. In a drawer, however, is not the place to keep it."
Storm nodded. "I'm taking this, Rogue."
"No – Storm – please…"
"It isn't safe, Rogue! What if someone found it, what if one of the kids found it? You may have chosen to be human. That doesn't give you the right to put other people in danger!"
She sighed, realising how frightened her student was. "I'll put it in the lab. It was your choice to make, I guess I have to respect that. If your powers come back, you'll get your injection."
Rogue nodded wordlessly.
"Meanwhile, young lady, your room is still not tidy."
In the boy's wing, Wolverine was concluding his own inspections. These were done to the same standard as Storm's, but involved more sarcasm. But, as he was more lenient than Cyclops had ever been about mess between times, they didn't complain.
Breakfast was a lively affair, as it was every Sunday. It was the one day when all the children were properly awake. Wolverine sat with Storm and ate bacon sandwiches.
"So who's this new geek then?"
"You mean the new teacher?"
He rolled his eyes.
"She appeared on Friday. She picked the lock to my room and announced she was here to, well, volunteer, I suppose."
"What's her name?"
"Sophie Taylor, but I'm fairly certain it's fake – Hank couldn't find any records of her anywhere."
"What's she look like?"
"She looks eighteen, says it's her mutation and she's thirty seven. She's white, has blue eyes and wears her hair in a braid. The little ones love her already, mostly because she let them have a waterfight in the grounds."
"What about the older ones, what do they think?"
"I don't know. It might bother them that she looks their age."
"We'll soon find out. You hired her?"
"I told her she was on probation."
"Fair enough." He stood, brushed crumbs from his lap and grabbed his jacket.
"Where are you going?"
"To talk to her, where else?"
Butcher was at that moment halfway up a willow tree. She'd thought she saw more scratches, but it was just the way the bark had grown. She looked down at the sound of footsteps.
"You wanna come down so I can see you?"
Ice drenched her spine. What if he remembered her? What if he didn't?
Logan.
She swung herself off the branch and dropped neatly onto the grass.
Wolverine stared as she straightened. He knew her. He knew he knew her.
"You must be the Wolverine," she said, white-faced.
Logan paled as the sound of her voice, the sight of her, opened a door in his mind, and suddenly he knew who she was, who he was, he remembered all he had lost as if he had never lost it and he held her as though she were a part of him.
"Sophie!"
A/N I know, it's a mean place to finish the chapter. It will all make sense eventually. Long talks, math lessons and the Danger Room coming up, although possibly not immediately. Reviews would be much appreciated.
