Disclaimer: the X-Men do not belong to me. Duh!

Previously:

The man was Jim.

Chapter Eleven

I stood there in shock as the men gathered and left, heading down towards the restaurant Zack and I'd eaten at. It was too much to wrap my mind around at the moment. I knew that Jim didn't like mutants, but to try and kill them all? Why? And Zack, how did they know he was a mutant? And, just why? I didn't understand.

"Lara?" Zack asked me, worry evident in his voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no, I just, I mean, why?" I couldn't get a coherent sentence out. Zack reached out and pulled me into a hug.

"I don't know." He told me. Strangely, that was reassuring. It made me feel better to know that someone else didn't understand why people killed other people. I squeezed him tightly briefly, and then pulled back so I could see him.

"What do I do with this?" I asked.

"With wh – oh. How did you get this thing?" He asked me, smirking slightly for some reason.

"Like this." I said and held my hand out, causing the game/box/thing to fly to me again. Zack raised his eyebrows in surprise, but otherwise said nothing.

"Do you think it's safe to go now?" I asked softly.

"If you think that I'm taking you home, you'd better think again." Zack said sharply. "There's no way I'm taking you back to the house when your mother's boyfriend is going to go back to eventually. I wouldn't be surprised if he was already heading back, just in case I was stupid enough to take you back there."

"Don't you mean 'In case you were stupid enough to want to go back there.'?" I asked. He looked at me, startled, took in the fact that my arms were crossed over my chest, and hastily agreed.

"Good." I said. "Not that I do want to go back, but where do I go then? And we probably can't go to your place, either, you know." He nodded in agreement.

"Your father," Zack said slowly, "is he in town?"

"I think so. Let me check." I pulled my cell out of my purse and scrolled through the contacts list until I found the one I wanted. I dialed it, put the phone to my ear, and waited impatiently.

Chkk. "Hello?" The voice at the other end of the line catapulted me back to the past.

"Daddy?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yeah sweetie? What's the matter?" My father, Christopher, seemed in a good mood for some reason. It was probably annoying only because I was so stressed.

"What makes you think something's the matter?" I snapped. "Are the only times I call you the times when something's wrong? Can't I just call you to say hi?" I would've continued, but Zack grabbed my phone from me.

"Sir?" Words, indistinguishable nonsense from where I was standing, came from the other end of the line.

"She's just frightened." Zack said in an explanatory tone.

"I am not frightened!" My instantaneous response was embarrassing, and I regretted opening my mouth as soon as the words were out.

"Correction: she's not frightened." Zack gave me an exasperated look, and explained what had just happened, including the fact that Jim was one of our attackers. He paused, listening, and then gave our location. After reassuring Daddy that we were safer here than we'd be anywhere else, he hung up with a snap of my phone, and handed it back to me.

"He's on his way." He said, as if that settled everything. I was annoyed to admit it, but it looked like that would be it.

We waited, Zack in that annoyingly calm way he took most everything, and me, not so calmly. I was impatient. I wanted to do something active. Something like go after those idiots and take out all this tension on them, or give them a piece of my mind, or both. That would be nice. I entertained myself by imagining exactly what I would say to them if I had the chance. It never occurred to me that they would listen. If they were so stupid to actually believe that they could kill all the mutants in the world, then mere words would not un-brainwash them. Nothing would, sadly. 'Course, I didn't think I'd actually get the opportunity to tell them exactly what I thought of them. They let us escape once, next time, we probably wouldn't see them before they tried to kill us.

A car horn distracted me from my morbid thoughts. I peered around the tree I was leaning against, and then sighed in relief. Daddy was finally here.

"Come on." Zack said softly. I had the feeling that he was just as relieved as I was to get out of this place. "You still have the box?" I nodded, and he smiled at me as he took my hand and pulled me behind him. We ran to the car, and got in quickly.

"Hey Daddy." I said quietly.

"Hey sweetheart. You two okay?" My daddy asked worriedly. The lights that came on when the car doors were open illuminated a thin nose set on a boney, haggard face, complete with circles under the piercing green eyes he and I shared (although, he had this way of looking at you like he knew exactly what you were thinking and disapproved that I could never manage. People tended to avoid looking him in the eye if they had secrets).

"Yeah, just shaken." I replied as I sank into the passenger seat and closed the door. I heard an answering thunk as Zack closed his door, and a reassuring click as the doors locked. I buckled up and sank into the leather seat with a sigh. I suddenly was so tired.

I dozed off. I was vaguely aware of some sort of conversation going on between Daddy and Zack, but I couldn't hear the words, and eventually, I fell asleep. The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake.

"Mmm." I stretched, yawning as my eyes flickered open sleepily. I blinked confusedly at my dad and, in a second, I was a little girl again.

"Ice cream?" I mumbled, still not awake. "I want vanilla." I yawned again. "You promised, Daddy." He laughed, a sort of breathless chuckle.

"Tomorrow." Apparently realizing that I was still half-asleep, he reached over and unbuckled me. "We're at my apartment now, sweetie. You need to get out, okay?" He didn't give me much of a choice; he gave a gentle tug at my arm, and, yawning, I climbed out. I refused to wake all the way up, though, and I leaned against Zack with my eyes half-closed. He put his arm around my waist and guided me inside, following Daddy, I guess, but it didn't really matter to me at that point.

I'm pretty sure I dozed off again in the elevator on the way upstairs, regardless of the annoyingly bright lights they insisted on putting in there, because the next thing I knew, we were inside Daddy's apartment. He and Zack were talking about something, but I couldn't tell what it was. Then Daddy was on the phone, talking to my mother probably. I didn't really care. As long as I didn't have to live there anymore, I didn't care at all.

I woke up slowly the next morning. Checking the clock, I realized it was past eight. No wonder I was so rested. I sat up and saw Zack.

"Hey," my voice was rough. I cleared it and felt the dryness in my throat. I got up to look for a glass of water.

"Morning." Zack was eating cereal. "Are you actually awake this time?" I glanced at him, confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Or tried to ask. All that came out was a squeak. I had a sip of water and tried again.

"Nothing. The bowl's are up there." He pointed. "Your dad had to go do…something. I don't know what. He said to make ourselves at home. Here," he pushed a box of Cheerios towards me.

"Thanks." I went to the fridge for milk. Ooh! Orange juice. I got both out and got down another cup. I poured us both some juice, ignoring the face Zack made.

"Don't complain." I told him. "It's good for you."

"Thanks." He said sarcastically.

We ate in silence. Zack got up and went to sit in front of the TV, on the couch that had been my bed. He flipped through a few channels until he found one he liked.

"Lara. Come look at this."