"That's Wolverine?" A male voice asks outside of the room, "I mean the wolverine. With the whole-," A bad imitation of Logan's growl outside the door followed by what sounds like a hand colliding with someone's head are both audible after the statement.
"What if she hears you?" Another harsh whisper responds.
Laura sits up, her forehead colliding with a bunk above her. She grumbles out a cuss her father wouldn't have understood as she rubs her forehead. Her throat is dry and scratchy and her mouth tastes like bile; she must've made the greatest first impression. At least it was an extra mess for her captors.
"I think she's awake," the same voice from before states as the doorknob starts to turn.
"We should get El," The wolverine fan replies, effectively stopping the kid with their hand on the door.
The hallway goes quiet after that and after a moment or two X-23 decides it is okay to move again. Her legs, however, disagree. Her first few shaky steps send her tumbling into the hardwood floor. Her vocal chords make a soft grunt as she hits wood and she realizes she really cannot figure out where she is. Her fingers run across the unique panels beneath her as she makes her way back to her feet. The air doesn't smell like that sickeningly familiar mix of bleach and blood anymore.
It takes a minute or so for her to reach a window and open the blinds. She sneezes before her eyes train on the sky outside. The sun has just begun to set in a now angry red-orange sky. She is unable to remember the last time she'd seen such a thing. She doesn't hear the door open nor the footsteps of the girl behind her. It's the gentle touch on her shoulder that calls her back. She finds it familiar.
X-23 slaps the hand away, turning a bit too quickly for her body to handle. Her fingertips turn white, gripping at the windowsill to compensate for her lost strength.
Her eyes are met with those of the same age, or at least that's what she assumes. Her brows furrow as she tries to take in everything at once: the girl in front of her, the old and barren room, the pairs of eyes watching them from the open doorway, and the fact that she missed all of this until now.
"It is okay," the girl in front of her speaks. Something seems off; she doesn't know what or why.
X-23's brows are furrowed, her breathing labored. None of this feels right.
"¿Quiénes son?" X-23's eyes dart from the girl to the filled door frame and back to the girl who now possesses a confused expression. X-23 repeats her question, louder and more forceful this time. Her breathing hasn't evened out yet.
"It is okay. You're safe," the girl repeats.
"Who are you," X-23 commands, her voice lowered and quivering as it leaves her vocal chords. Her eyes glare daggers into the kids in front of her.