This chapter contains an explicit reference to my previous fic, Phoenix, so I advise you again: go read that first.
"Have we done right by her, you think?" Kurt asked Scott as they walked back towards the Danger Room.
"How do you mean?"
"We… She kidnapped Logan, we kidnapped her in return. Are we right?"
"Would we have done better to leave him with her? We still have no idea what she would have done with him?"
"No, but…" He lacked the words in English. In German, he would have been able to express what he felt better. "It sits badly, to take a woman and leave her tied up for hours."
"We're letting her go now. But don't talk to her. The fewer faces she sees, the fewer voices she hears, the better."
Kurt sighed, but didn't argue. Scott opened the door of the room where the woman was. He walked in, unspeaking, and cut the tie attaching the woman to the chair.
"What? Who's there? What's happening?"
"Up."
"Where are you taking me?"
Scott pulled her to her feet. "You don't get to ask questions."
The woman just seemed to accept that, she seemed too frightened to challenge Scott. But who knew what had driven her to what she'd done tonight? Very few people, in Kurt's experience, were truly evil. Many more could be driven to do evil things by desperation, or perhaps by another power. He had, after all, attacked the President of the United States of America and injured several men. If not for the Great Grace of God, Kurt felt that that would have gnawed at him for years.
When they were back at the woman's house, Kurt led her out of the car as Scott had instructed.
"Where am I?"
"You'll find out in a minute." Scott answered, walking towards the front door, which they'd left unlocked, he was looking for the box. Kurt stood holding the woman's arm. Scott had come up with a way to do this so she didn't see either of their faces again. The woman sounded as though she was nearly crying with fright. Whatever she'd done, whatever she'd been planning to do, surely this wasn't right.
It took about a hundred heartbeats for Scott to come back with the box, then he got back in the car and backed out of the driveway.
"What's happening?" The woman asked.
Scott was out of hearing now, so Kurt answered. "We are leaving. We will let you go very soon, very soon."
"Do you hate me?" She asked, very quietly. Kurt frowned at her. She was pitiable now, standing blindfolded with her hands tied together. People who did bad things often were pitiable if you took the trouble to look at them.
"No." Kurt said. "I don't hate you. My God forbids me to hate, he says I must forgive those who would harm me, and pray for them. Will you tell me your name?"
She hesitated. "Tanya."
Kurt took her hands in his. "Then I will pray for you," He undid the knot at her wrists. "Tanya." He stepped back from her and made it to the meeting point with Scott in two jumps.
,
Scott set the box down by Logan's feet and opened, still wearing gloves. Jean heard him huff in frustration.
"It's empty." He said. "There's a phone number written inside the lid, but that's it. And I bet they won't just tell us who they are if we call."
"They knew they might come up against a telepath." The Professor said. "And so they told their foot soldier nothing."
Scott sighed. "So now what?"
"We don't have anything to chase, do we?" Storm said. "We could try the number, but…"
"But this appears to have been rigged to stop us finding the source." The Professor said. "Storm, try the number anyway, her name was Tanya Michaels. Everyone else may go to bed, so far as I'm concerned. Jean?"
"I'm staying." She said. "But I'll be okay on my own."
"Thanks Jean." Storm said, getting up and moving to tear the phone number off the box.
Jean watched the others go, Storm a little way behind The Professor and Kurt, reading the number as she went. Scott wasn't moving.
"You sure you're okay on your own, you don't want company?"
She shook her head. "I'll be fine."
He looked at her, as though choosing his next words carefully. She had a feeling she knew what this was about. She'd told him about Troy yesterday night. At the time, he'd done… exactly what she'd needed him to do. He'd held her, called Troy things she didn't think she'd ever heard Scott call anyone, and he'd made her feel she wasn't being over-sensitive for being upset by it – "No, God, no. If reading someone is anything like the dreams… You saw him rape you. Of course you were scared." She was grateful. Really, she was, he hadn't made her feel like it had been in any way her fault for getting in the cab with Troy, he'd asked her what she wanted him to do… He'd handled it really well, she couldn't have asked more of him. But he was being a bit clingy now.
"Scott, I can take care of myself. I'm a level four telekinetic. There's no sense in both of us staying up all night."
He drew a breath slowly. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure."
"Call if you need anything."
"If you could grab me some coffee and something to read…"
"Okay. Sure."
He was still Scott. He could still take a hint.
,
What? Where? What was going on? Where was he? Logan groaned softly and shifted. He was lying on his back, on something softer than the ground.
"Morning, sleepyhead." A woman's voice, Jean. He'd woken up with Jean? He opened his eyes.
It was bright. He was in the infirmary. What the hell? He lifted his head an inch.
"What's going on?"
"Do you know where you are?" Jean was sitting in a chair beside him, a magazine of some sort on her knee, wearing her X-men uniform.
"Infirmary. What happened?"
"You had a heavy night. What's the last thing you remember?"
He'd been… He'd gone out, he'd taken Scott's motorcycle and gone out. He'd wanted… "Was in a bar. I wasn't going to get that drunk. What the hell happened?"
"You got drugged." She said simply. "Did nobody ever tell you not to take drinks from strangers?"
"What did they want with me?"
"We're not sure." Jean said. "Did you know the woman?"
"What?"
"The woman who we found dragging you off, did you know her?"
Logan frowned, trying to remember. "Blonde, fifties..?"
"Yeah."
"No, I didn't. She… she bought me a drink."
"That'll be how she did it then."
"What?"
"How she got the drugs in to you."
"How'd you find me?" He hadn't told anyone he was going out.
"You called Storm."
"Did I?"
"Yeah. Don't worry about it, rohypnol messes with memory formation. You'll be fine by the morning."
"What time is it now?"
"Four AM." She sat more upright. "And I'm going to bed. You're awake, you're talking sense, you've been stable since one. You're gonna be fine."
"You're leaving me?"
"You can come upstairs if you like."
He rolled over and made to get up. He was dizzy. He shook his head. It wasn't too bad. He could walk.
"You're okay." Jean appeared beside him, she pulled his arm across her shoulders. "Come on."
"Thanks."
"No problem. You'll sleep this off."
,
It was hot today, really hot. Logan was out running the perimeter of the grounds before lunch, when he saw movement down by the main gate. It was a Saturday, so people were kind of scattered around, but nobody should have been outside the main gate. Well, what was the worst that could happen? He sped up and ran over.
There was a car, a woman was getting out of it, she ran up to the gate, shouting.
"Help! I need a doctor! Help!" She caught sight of Logan. "They said there was a mutant doctor here who'll treat us."
"Yeah, yeah, there is." He shouted. "What happened?"
"My son." The woman shouted. Logan opened the gate and came out to face her.
"What happened?"
She led him round to the passenger side of the car. There was a boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, slumped in the seat. "I can't wake him."