Kitty meets Logan in the little infirmary by the Danger Room. Standing outside of the sliding doors, legs in agonizing pain and a fresh change of clothes, Kitty gently touches the side of her face with her fingertips, winces in pain. The real scratches sustained from the virtual rocks during her training session hadn't cut her too deep, though deep enough for the touch to hurt, and for the scratches to require mending.
The doors to the infirmary slide open, and Kitty painfully strides into the little room, feeling immersed in chrome and white; chrome operating table with a white cloth draped over the top, chrome chairs, shining chrome surgical tools placed atop a white cloth, white lighting drawing attention to the sterility and monotony of the room. Logan stands near an open medicine cabinet, and gestures for Kitty to sit on the operating table. "How's your face?" he asks, concentrating more on the labels of the glass bottles in the cabinet than on her. Kitty winces as she lowers herself onto the table, reassuring her instructor that the scratches aren't as bad as they look, that they barely hurt.
"Don't try to be tough," he says, gathering the proper medical supplies and placing them onto a small table before sitting himself on a chair in front of Kitty. He pinches her jaw between his large, callused fingers covered by a latex glove and turns her head to the side. He picks up a small, moist cotton ball and gently dabs it on the wound on her temple. "This is gonna hurt," he warns. It burns and reeks of alcohol, and Kitty tries her best to stay strong and not recoil from the pain. She closes her eyes and winces, taking a sharp breath as the alcohol enters the cut.
The moisture at her temple is dabbed with a new, dry cotton ball, and Kitty feels Logan the fluffy cotton to her skin. "Not so bad," she jokes, preparing herself for the next round of alcohol swabbing that her cheek requires. Logan silently and quickly swabs the smaller scratches. The second round of alcohol doesn't hurt as much as the first, much to Kitty's relief. She is shocked at how careful and gentle Logan is; this totally goes against the front that Logan displays to everyone else in the mansion. Even still, Kitty shouldn't be too shocked that the razor-wielding Wolverine has let his guard down around her; it wouldn't be the first time. After their excursion in the Rocky Mountains, the two seemed to have a newfound understanding of the other person.
Before Kitty knows it, her wounds are patched and Logan is peeling off his latex gloves. They snap like a rubber band, cutting through the silence. "I guess I'll get going then," Kitty mumbles, pushing herself off of the table. "Not yet," Logan says, forcing Kitty to sit once more. Before she can ask what else he needs to do, Logan lifts her eyelid up and shines a small yet blindingly bright flash light in her eyes. She recoils from the light and Logan's prying hand, accidently kicks him in the shin. "Like, what the heck is that for?" she asks, rubbing her eye to remove the little white and purple flecks plaguing her vision.
"Checking your head to make sure everything's alright after the fall," Logan rubs his shin. "Oh," an embarrassed Kitty tries to sit perfectly still as Logan lifts her eyelid once more. "Look into the light," he growls. He moves onto her other eye, and Kitty fights the urge to recoil once more. Rather than focusing the small, bright light shining in her eye, Kitty lets her mind wander. She thinks of Lance (and smiles), she thinks of her training session (and scowls, thinking of the predicament she landed in—no pun intended), and thinks of the small pain at the base of her neck (which she didn't previously feel). "You look fine," he says, shutting off the light. "Can I go then?" Kitty asks, her body prepared just in case Logan says no and tries to poke or prod her with anything else. "Yeah, you're fine," he says. Kitty phases through the doors, eager to leave Logan.
The lights in the hall seem brighter to Kitty, and the walls seem larger. Walking towards the elevator, she feels as though the walls are converging on her, as though her vision is sharpening drastically. She places her hand against the wall for stability, and walks slowly towards the large metal doors. The sharpening of her vision reminds her of countless movies where the main character is under the influence of drugs, and the lights and walls converge and seem to jut out and envelop her simultaneously. Pressure builds behind her eyes, causing her to tightly close them.
After taking a few deep breaths, Kitty opens her eyes to find her vision only slightly sharpened, and the pain behind her eyes lessening. While waiting for the elevator doors to open, Kitty hears the metal container gliding behind the doors. Though gliding isn't the right word; moreover, she hears the metal container screeching behind the doors. The slow moving unit moves gently along the elevator shaft, though any movement it makes irritates Kitty's ear, sounds as though Logan is dragging his animantium claws on a chalkboard, shrieking all the way down. She covers her ears with her hands, trying to drown the sharp noise out, but to no avail. The screeching gets louder, and the swishing of the doors and dinging of the bell provide relief as she steps inside the elevator.
Once inside what she thought would be a protective barrier between Kitty and the high-pitched noise, it only got worse. Moving up in the elevator makes the ringing and screeching louder and higher, and she curls in the fetal position in the elevator, waiting for the interminable torture to finally stop. Feeling that her ear drums are about to burst, the only thing Kitty can do is scream. She screams as loud as she can, but still cannot drown out the high-pitched noise of the elevator. She screams and screams, and wishes for this God awful noise to go away.