7
"I've got volunteer work tonight. Can you watch Kenny?" Laura asks, on Saturday evening.
Julian is putting on his jacket. "Err—" he stops. "You're a volunteer now?"
"Apparently," Laura says. "Why? Will this interfere with your plans?"
"Seeing as I volunteer too…yeah," he says.
Laura blinks. Suddenly Julian's weekend absences make more sense. He hasn't been spending the time with his friends—he's been working for Xavier. She flushes slightly at the revelation, and feels angry at herself for misinterpreting his actions.
"Oh," she says.
"Let's take her to daycare, then," Julian says. "What does she need?"
…
"I'll just be gone for a little while," Laura murmurs to the small girl, stroking her hair. The daycare lady—an Asian girl, with bangs and a sweet smile—holds Kenny up while her parents say goodbye. Her name tag says Shan.
"In the meantime, we're going to watch more Winnie the Pooh," Shan says to Kenny. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Poo!" Kenny squeaks. Julian sighs.
"Come on, Laura…let's go," he says. "Don't want to be late, in case it's an emergency."
"An—" Laura starts to ask, but he cuts her off. "You'll find out. We should only a few hours." He looks at Shan. "Thanks for watching her."
"No problem," Shan says. "Don't worry about her, Laura. She's fine when you go to class—this is no different."
"I've never left her to fall asleep without me," Laura says. "It's…a weird feeling. I don't like it."
"She'll be fine." Julian puts his hand on her shoulder; she feels a tingle run through her skin. "Let's go."
"Okay." Laura gives her daughter a last stroke to her cheek, then turns away, trying to ignore the feeling of WRONG that always pops up when she leaves her. The others don't understand what she's afraid of: her creators. Can they defend her daughter without her?
She closes her eyes, and sees her mother's face, the last cloud of her breath evaporating into the crisp air, the strange thought that she'd had: if only she could catch that breath, she could put it back.
"You have to let go a bit sometime," Julian says, beside her, as they head down the hallway. "She'll grow up someday. She'll be like us—wearen't with our parents anymore."
"Mmm." Laura's voice trembles, and she looks away.
"Hey—are you—" He stops, seeing that she's started to cry silently. "You okay?"
Laura doesn't answer. She remembers what she used to do, when emotions disturbed her; run to the bathroom, and cut them out of her body. Her wrists, her arms, her legs, all fair game. If her heart ached, she'd try to extract it. It always grew back, very quickly.
When she'd realized she was having Kenny, she'd suddenly felt a strange, peaceful sensation: the first emotion she hadn't wanted to cut away. It was something akin to what she'd felt towards her mother, but without the pain or confusion. It was pure, and gentle, and the emotion hadn't ended. Over its duration, it had worn away at her guard, made her feel a gentle sense of calm.
Even the confusion that Julian causes doesn't reach this sacred place that Kenny has created. The only thing that can touch it is the girl, as it seems.
"Laura, she'll be okay." He rubs her shoulder. "We won't be long."
She closes her eyes and nods slightly, takes a sharp breath.
"Hey. Come here." Julian pulls her closer and encases her in his arms; she stiffens slightly. The last time he'd held her was the first night. He doesn't pull away though, and she lets her head rest on his shoulder, trying to relax, and not think about what could go wrong.
"You're a good mom to her," he murmurs, stroking her hair. "She's lucky to have you." He takes a breath, like he's going to say something else, but doesn't continue. They stand in silence for a moment, then he pats her on the back. "We've got work to do."
…
"Ah, Laura! And Julian," the Professor says, with a smile, as he turns around in his wheelchair and sees that they are approaching. He's waiting by the elevator, as promised. "Perfect. You can assist Laura in the tour of the sub-basement. I had promised to show her myself, but unfortunately I have an extremely important conference call to attend."
"So you did reach him?" Julian asks.
"Yes, indeed," the Professor says. "I am hopeful that my speaking with him will help to soften his views."
"Hope so."
Laura looks questioningly at the two men, but neither offer an explanation.
DING! as the elevator arrives. The doors slide open, and the Professor wheels himself in, followed by the pair of volunteers. Inside the elevator, the Professor leans over and punches several buttons; Laura involuntarily memorizes the pattern. Third, first, second, second, fourth.
"Retinal scan." A cool, robotic, female voice fills the elevator. Laura looks up and sees the small speakers that usually play background music.
Beside her, Julian grins slightly.
The Professor looks straight at the door close button, and Laura looks down as well. Peering closer, she sees a tiny camera window in the center. She raises her eyebrows.
"Welcome, Professor Xavier. Sub-basement in three, two, one…"
Laura feels the machines begin in the elevator; each tiny vibration travels up through her bones. They descend, past the basement; then the doors slide open to reveal a metal hallway, devoid of the Victorian motif common to the other floors. And bright, fluorescent lighting.
"After you," the Professor says.
Laura steps out and peers around her, her face full of wonder. She has not been in a place such as this, before. Not even the facility could afford technology like this. She can see that the round doors—stamped with a large X—along the hallway are made of metal, and open on hand contact with a scanning panel.
"I will be in the conference room," the Professor says. "Julian, if you could begin the tour…I'd be grateful."
"Yes, sir," Julian says.
They head down the hallway, Laura becoming more apprehensive as they do. What kind of volunteer work is this? Is this really part of the facility? Is Kenny—her heart squeezes, and she stops.
"Where are we?" she asks Julian directly.
"Sub basement." He stops, too.
"What is this?"
Julian shifts. "The Professor explains it a lot better."
"I want you to explain it," Laura says. "Now."
He sighs, rubs his neck. "Okay. The volunteer work—we all wear uniforms, and go out to save the world."
Silence.
Laura stares at him. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"
"No." Julian pauses. "We're all mutants. On the squad, anyway. In the school…we have a few non-mutants who needed help and do staff or fundraising volunteer work. But down here is where the mutants volunteer. We use our powers to help others in trouble—being hunted down by labs, persecuted, whatever the trouble maybe—and bring them here, if they're interested." He pauses. "Xavier's on a video call with the President of the United States right now, trying to work on softening the mutant registration bill that's being debated."
Laura feels cold. "Registration?"
"Mutants would be legally required to provide all of their background and contact information to the authorities. Those who wouldn't comply could be subject to lethal force."
The facility would find me in a heartbeat, Laura thinks. She shivers. Would find Kenny. Would—
"The Professor's on it, though. Cross your fingers. He's a telepath, you know."
Laura starts. "Telepath?"
"Yeah, it's—"
"I know what that is," Laura says, surprising him. "What class is he?"
Julian raises his eyebrows. "Four."
"That's very powerful." She wonders how much of her story the Professor has found in her mind. She has anti-psionic conditioning—mental walls—but a mind reader of that strength could probably bypass them with ease.
"How do you know what a class is?" Julian asks.
Laura pauses. "I've known a few other mutants." No need to tell him that she was extensively trained on mutant classes and powers, with the idea that she could be trained to hunt them down.
Julian hesitates. "I'm pretty powerful, myself," he says. "A strong three."
Laura appraises him, and says nothing. He grins at her. "Come on, let's head to the Outfitting room. I'll get you a uniform."
…
In the outfitting room, Laura glances around, seeing strange, small pods, with black leather costumes on mannequins. Julian stops by a sliding panel and pushes it out of the way, revealing a closet of similar outfits. "What size are you?"
"No," Laura says, staring at one of the pods. She sees her image reflected in the glass around the suit, as if she is already wearing it. "I don't want one."
"Yeah, you do. You need it, trust me." Julian pulls out one suit and holds it towards her. "This should fit you. You're about the same size as Cessily."
Laura shakes her head. She'll never wear a suit like that again. Not after the facility.
"Come on. Everyone wears one. You don't have to feel self-conscious." Julian pauses. "You have a great body, you know."
Laura looks at him uncertainly. The words hang between them like some sort of echo, neither believing what he has just said.
"Take it. Trust me." Julian smiles, and she returns it slightly. She hears his heart do an extra beat; she freezes, and looks around the locker room.
"What?" he asks.
"Nothing." Laura doesn't feel like explaining the situation to him; she accepts the uniform.
"Here." Julian heads to a pod holding an outfit identical to the one she's holding, except for the red piping. He presses a button on the side, and the glass rolls back. "I'll give you a communication thing, too. Normally the Professor hands them out, but I happen to have a spare."
He hands her a blue tooth ear device, and she fingers it doubtfully as he removes his uniform from the glass case.
"There's a changing room this way." He throws his uniform over his shoulder; then heads down a small hallway at the end of the room. Laura follows, fingering the uniform uncertainly.
She watches as he disappears into a booth; she steps into the adjoining stall and pulls the curtain shut, eying her outfit doubtfully. This violates her personal beliefs that she has personally established. She has never done anything good in a leather outfit. First being forced to kill—over and over—as a weapon, then being used in a similar manner for the pleasure of clients that wanted her to hurt them.
Laura closes her eyes, then reaches down for the hem of her shirt and pulls it off.
The suit fits tightly as she pulls it on. She eases it up her legs, around her waist—slightly thicker since having Kenny, but not by much thanks to her healing factor—and slips her arms in, pulling it around her chest, which is the most difficult part. She hears the sounds of Julian pulling the zipper in the front up, and suddenly remembers the first time she'd seen him in the hotel room. He'd been much more in shape than any client she'd ever had before; this makes sense now, if he's on a team like this
"How's it fit?" he calls over the partition.
"A little tight." Laura begins to ease the zipper up; she hears a thread pop somewhere as the zipper reaches the rise of her chest, and she stops, alarmed.
"Can I see?" Julian asks, stepping around and putting a gloved hand on the partition wall, between the curtain. She looks at the hand for a moment.
"Yes."
He pulls the curtain aside slightly and peers in. "Oh—yeah," he says, his eyes widening a little.
"I think I've gained weight," Laura says, frowning.
"Well, I'll get you a bigger one." Julian pauses, then grins. "No one will get much done if you show up in that."
He disappears, and she eases down the zipper again. After a few moments, he's back. "Here, try this."
Laura turns around and reaches out for the new outfit; she sees his eyes flit downwards, examining her body. She catches a scent she hasn't detected from him before, and decides that he likes what he has seen.
She examines him, in turn; his figure is still trim. She wonders how he would look naked, in the light. It had been dark when she'd seen him the first time, and in the hotel room. She can see in the dark, but the quality is not the same as in the light. Any opportunities since she's avoided, out of courtesy.
"Get changed. We'll be late." Julian says finally. "I'll show you the rest after."
She nods, and closes the curtain.
What about Sofia? she wonders.
…
"Thereyou are," says a familiar voice: Cessily's.
Laura stops, at the entrance of the room. There are ten people seated around a long, metal, oval table; faces both known and unknown.
Cessily is there, as well as Santo, Sooraya, and Brian; there is a woman with blue hair, from Laura's Chemistry classes; the rest she doesn't recognize. She glances at Julian uncertainly.
"Laura, these are your teammates: Logan, Quentin, Ro, Emma, Hank, Nori, Warren…and the rest you know," Julian says, pointing to each person as he names them. "Everyone, this is Laura. She's our newest member."
"People dying, Keller," the man sitting close to the door says. Logan. He looks scruffy, with dark hair and heavy stubble. His arms are folded. "Clock's ticking."
Julian seems to ignore the comment.
"Professor hasn't been by yet," the blue haired woman says. Nori. "I don't think we can go out finding emergencies if we don't know where they are."
"I can make an emergency happen right here, Ashida," the man replies.
"No fighting, people," Julian says in a neutral tone. He heads towards the other end of the long table; Laura looks around and spots an empty seat beside the grumpy man. She eyes him warily, as he does in return; something seems familiar about his scent.
They sit in relative silence, Cessily making some conversation with various members of the group.
"So, what's your deal?" the man sitting beside Laura asks.
She stares at him, uncertain.
"What do you do?" he persists. He has a rough voice, that sounds like he hasn't spoken in a while. The tone is low.
"She has a healing factor," Julian says, leaning back in his chair. "Like you, Logan."
The man eyes Laura. "So if I cut her, she won't bleed?"
"Ignore him, Laura," Julian says.
She eyes her neighbor, but her eyes are full of warning, and not fear. He sneers.
Suddenly, they both whip their heads around to look at the door. A few moments later it slides open, the reveal the Professor in his chair, wearing a grave expression that quickly turns to a benign smile.
"Ah, my students. So good to see you here again." He looks over to Julian. "Did you get Laura familiarized with our surroundings?"
"Not yet, sir," he answers. "We'll finish afterward."
"Excellent." The Professor nods to Laura. "I hope you do not mind the uniform too much. It is designed to protect you in several ways."
Laura says nothing, casts an uncertain look at the man. He surveys the table.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news."
Everyone suddenly looks deflated, but none more so than Laura, who blanches.
"The mutant registration act will proceed to congress, as planned. Do not fear, children…I will speak to each congressman, and debate the bill. It will not pass."
He taps his fingers on the arms of his wheelchair.
"Emma, if you will assist me in Cerebro…I will find our work for the evening."
A blonde haired woman—Emma—gets up from her seat near Julian. Her uniform is not zipped all the way up; it looks like Laura's had earlier, but it seems that this was her intent. She smiles at the Professor, moves behind him and grabs the handles of his chair.
"Let me help you there," she says, her voice smooth and accentuated, with something that sounds British. Julian also gets up and follows.
…
After about twenty minutes, the absentees return, Julian holding a manila folder. "Okay. I have our work cut out for us." He stops at the end of the table, near Laura.
"Team One: Surge, Mercury, Rockslide, and Dust. Team two: Gem, Storm, Beast, and Angel. Team three: Weapon, Omega, Laura, and myself."
Laura notes that they are using codenames. She is familiar with this practice.
X-23! PREPARE FOR WEAPON X TRAINING!
If she doesn't kill the bear within five seconds her neck will be broken, and she hates that—
CRUNCH.
She snaps back to reality, her face paling. It bothers her, how the memories she tries so hard to repress are always just around the corner, ready to be raised with the slightest provocation.
"You okay?" Julian is asking her.
Laura grips the table and nods, her forehead wrinkled.
"Damn, her heart rate just hit like a hundred a second," the man beside her says.
"How do you know?" Laura asks, her voice flat.
"Weapon here has really good hearing," Julian says. "What's wrong, Laura?"
"Nothing." She closes her eyes, focuses. Breathes through her nose, like she'd learned to do to relax, after a memory short, as she mentally calls them. She slowly releases the table. "I'm fine. What are we doing now?
"Group up, people," Julian orders, and she notes that he seems to be in charge. The one named Weapon is watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"Here's the mission perimeters. Surge and Gem, you're leading your teams. Read it and head out."
…
"Our mission tonight is to prevent a bank robbery taking place in Manhattan, and extend an invite to one of these people," Julian says, to his group. "Omega, we'll be counting on you to tell us what's happening before we see the thugs. Remember the directives—no tampering. Weapon, no killing. Laura, stick with me."
They have just arrived at their destination, in a Humvee outfitted with the Xavier school logo.
"Why did we bring her?" Weapon demands. "She looks useless. What, she going to stand around and heal herself?"
"She'll be useful." Julian parks the vehicle in a spot around the corner from the bank. "Let's go, people."
Everyone gets out of the Humvee, Laura feeling uneasy. It is clear that both Weapon and Omega dislike her, and she hasn't even spoken to either. She doesn't like that these volunteer projects will seem to rely on her facility skills. All it will take is a memory short, and she could cause unnecessary trouble.
"Get ready," Julian murmurs. They are approaching the dark bank. Laura can see flashlights on the interior, and hear the robbers whispering to each other.
"Three men," Omega says. "Carl Davis, Juan Montez, and Kurt Wagner. One's a mutie. Kurt."
"That'll be the one," Julian whispers. "Teleporter, right?"
"Yup."
"I'll get the doors."
Laura watches as Julian moves towards the structure, his eyes glowing. She watches as the door handle glows, too; after a moment, she hears a click!
The door swings open, and he motions for them to follow.
"You might as well stay here," Weapon says, sneering at her.
Laura follows, without replying, the hackles on the back of her neck standing up. As she reaches the door, Julian takes her by the wrist and pulls her into the dark interior of the bank. The air around them glows slightly; as his eyes are also lit up, she assumes he is shielding them with his mind. They creep through the teller's booths, towards the room in the back. The whispers of the men are like thunder in Laura's ears.
"…nein!" The smell of fear, and sulfur, vaguely like Kenny's diaper contents.
Ca-click! A gun being cocked back. Smith & Wesson, model 22A. .22 caliber bullets.
Laura says nothing about what she's just learned. She doesn't want to share anything about her powers or past with the others, including Julian.
They're armed, Omega says mentally. Weapon says they've got some kind of handgun. How lame and human is that? He's also complaining about a bad smell. Sulfur.
Maybe they have bombs? Julian replies.
Laura stiffens. Is he a telepath as well?
A really crappy one, Omega answers her. All he can do is project what he's thinking. He has no concept of the finer arts of telepathy.
Shut up, Julian replies.
You shut up.
No, you.
Make me.
"Can you guys not have this argument in my head?" Weapon hisses.
Laura relaxes slightly. They continue creeping towards the back room.
"Someone's coming!" a voice thunders. "GET EM!"
"AARRRGH!"
BAMF!
"Go after him!" Julian shouts, as the mutant teleports right on top of them, and then runs out the front door into the night. Their leader slams the safe door shut with his mind and turning the handle, effectively trapping the other two thugs inside.
"Omega, freeze him or something!" Weapon snaps, as they scramble after the mutant.
Laura stays beside Julian, not really wanting to be alone with the other two volunteers again.
He grins at her. "See? Cool, huh?"
She says nothing.