Chapter Six Playlist:

•Medicine ~ Daughter

Note:

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When Johanna finally came to, she had discovered almost immediately that she was paralyzed; unable to move, open her eyes, or speak. And for the next few minutes, she was able to hear everything and everyone —Logan being the most animated and... loud. Too loud for Johanna's senses. Which were now heightened, to say the least.

"You have to do something, Furball!" the voice that sounded like Logan, demanded harshly. "She needs to wake up!"

Johanna then heard a quick, warning growl.

"Watch yourself, Logan," a man ordered; still remaining calm. "I am doing the best I can. What she needs now is rest and time. Then, and only then, will she regain her strength."

"But—"

"Logan, please, listen to his counsel," another voice —a woman— interrupted.

Wait. Who was this woman? Johanna thought. She didn't like the way she sounded. Too... throaty? Too... flirtatious? As if the woman had ulterior motives behind her "kind" demeanor, that was just a little too friendly.

"Just butt out, Red," Logan said coldly. "You don't understand."

"I may be able to understand, Logan, if you would just let us do our job! Just... don't worry," the woman —Red— then said soothingly, "we can help your friend—"

"You know she's more than just a friend, Red," Logan growled. "Get it through your damn skull! Now if you two would just hurry up with whatever the hell you're doing... then maybe—

"For the love of God Almighty! Your major flaw, young man, is your lack of patience!" the man snapped.

After a brief moment of awkward silence, Logan began to chuckle. "Young man? Y'know that I'm older than you, right Hank?"

The man Logan called Furball —or more formally, Hank— let out a deep sigh.

"It is dire, Logan, that you remain patient. Not for me. Because I'm certainly not your mate. She is. Be patient... for her."

Oh God. There it was again! That word.

Mate.

Kind of romantic —in a primal sort of way— and extremely rare to hear on a normal day basis, Johanna had remembered her mother uttering that exact four letter word; just moments before she "woke up". It was a word —so uncommon, yet so unforgettable— that Johanna would file away in the depths of her mind.

And apparently... Johanna was Logan's "mate". Whatever the hell that meant.

Too stubborn and curious for her own good, Johanna would get some answers —oh, she would make sure of it— about everything, when she was strong enough. Just like Furball —Hank— had encouraged.

But... what if it took too long to recuperate? What if this was it? An endless state of unconsciousness, making Johanna a permanent carrot that could comprehend but never communicate. Oh God! This was one of Johanna's worst nightmares —often seeing it on the news, and feeling awful for the poor souls and their families that have to actually endure this personal hell!

No. No! This was unacceptable. She had to get out of here. Of course... here currently meant her mind... but, somehow, Johanna needed to muster up enough strength to open her eyes. Or maybe, open her mouth. Because Lord knows, that if someone would be able to hear her, it was Logan. He was The Wolverine for goodness sake! Logan had the most powerful senses, that if he tried hard enough, he could probably hear a baby ant scream before someone's shoe squashed it. Surely, this would be easy for him —hearing her whisper.

Feeling a slight tickle in her head, Johanna suddenly heard a voice. A gentle, British guy's voice.

"Don't be afraid, Miss Johanna. My name is Professor Charles Xavier."

Oh thank God, Johanna thought.

"Just so you know... if you had introduced yourself as someone else, I would've thought I became a schizo... just sayin'."

The Professor let out a soft chuckle. "No, my dear. I assure you. You are quite sane."

Feeling some comfort already, Johanna relaxed a bit. But deep down, she still felt somewhat... intimidated. She had often heard of 'the intelligent' Professor Xavier —reading about him in either news reports or seeing videos of him speaking in the past.

Johanna had admired his calm and kind presence, often when he discussed either mutant rights or equality —as well as harmony— between both mutants and humans. His English accent was deep, yet soft. Loud, when it needed to be, but also reserved, catered to the perfect audience. And although permanently glued to a wheelchair, sporting a clean, shaved head, the Professor was still young. Probably nearing his late fifties, early sixties.

Before the X-Men went AWOL, Johanna had always wanted to meet him. Well... she actually wanted to meet everyone on the team; her childhood friends often playfully calling her a geek. But now... now that Johanna was able to telepathically communicate with the Charles Xavier... well... it was just too overwhelming. Like meeting a celebrity or the President. Someone so well respected was now talking to her. And for Johanna, it was an honor.

"I'm sure you have many questions, Miss Johanna," the Professor said. "But I want to first reassure you, that you are safe. And I can see that you have also been alert for some time now. I do apologize for not realizing sooner."

Johanna let out a short laugh. "Hey, no worries. Honestly, I was a little anxious in the beginning. But now, I'm just confused, I guess."

"Of course. I completely understand," he reassured her. "Which is why I wanted to ask for your consent. I may be able to move some things along, as to getting you awake a bit quicker. But you still physically need your rest."

Johanna was quick to agree. "Yes, please! I just wanna wake up..." And then, Johanna thought, raid your refrigerator.

The Professor smiled. "Alright. Hold on one moment, please."

In a matter of seconds, Johanna was able to slowly open her eyes. And when her vision was clearly focused —ridding her of the grey and yellow splotches— Johanna flinched; her eyes widening.

Looking up to her right, the massive figure before her —checking the monitor beside her hospital bed— was covered in fur. Blue fur. Quickly averting her gaze somewhere else —on her purple, bruised arm— Johanna muttered an I'm sorry.

This man —whom she almost immediately recognized as the famous 'Beast'— was most definitely 'Furball'.

Hank let out a booming laugh, showing some of his fangs. "My dear, I would have been extremely worried if your reaction had been otherwise. It is completely normal, and I take no offense. My name is Dr. Hank McCoy. But most know me as Beast."

Hank quickly extended his paw, and when Johanna shook it... she didn't want to let go. It was so soft!

Looking to her left, Johanna realized that Logan was by her side. Like... almost-ready-to-make-a-space-next-to-her by her side. His big, warm hands gently gripped her left hand, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and his facial hair was a tad thicker. And God, did he look... worried? For her?

Standing behind Logan, wearing a white lab coat identical to Hank's, typing away on a rolling computer, was a thin —and extremely beautiful— woman with fiery, red hair. This... must be the woman Johanna already didn't care for. Jean Grey. And little did Johanna know, Jean equally shared the sentiment.

And finally, there was the Professor, kindly smiling, with his hands resting in his lap.

Johanna was at a loss for words. Without knowing anything about her, this man still helped. And Johanna was awake and alive because of him. Almost uttering the words thank you, the Professor held up his hand and stopped her. "You are most welcome, Miss Johanna. I was happy to assist."

Logan shot the Professor a glance and scoffed. "It's not like you actually did the work, but whatever..." he grumbled, returning his attention back to his mate.

Stretching her legs, looking around, Johanna quickly noticed —in a room full of other hospital beds— that she was the only patient here.

"Um... where's Lori?" Johanna asked. "Is she alright? Can I see her?"

Logan's stomach sank. How was he going to tell her?

"Can we be alone for a minute, Chuck?"

The Professor nodded, his expression grave. Which wasn't a good sign.

What the hell happened?

"No wait," Johanna said. "What's going on? Where's my friend?"

The Professor, who was the last to leave, muttered an I'm so sorry, before he exited the infirmary.

Johanna tightly clenched her jaw, and began to hyperventilate; eyes welling up with tears.

"Anna, just listen," Logan slowly began.

"No! You listen to me!" Johanna snapped, snatching her hand away. She didn't want to think the worst... but, she just had to ask.

"Did... something happen to her? Is she hurt? Is that why no one's answering me? Come on... give it to me straight," she demanded. "What. Happened. To Lori?"

Expecting to receive an immediate answer, the pained look on Logan's face had said it all. And his silence was deafening. Her chest tight, ears ringing, and her heart racing, Johanna sank into the pillows resting behind; her mouth slightly open, and eyes focused on anything but Logan.

Her friend... was dead.

Whoa!!!! Major ending here, am I right?!?!

Well... Lori's dead with a capital D... but (spoiler *gasp*) who was she... really?

Will we get to know the true identity of Johanna's "friend"?

Keep reading to find out. And trust me... you WILL find out soon.