A/N: Still with me? Post a review!
I'm having a lot of fun with this. It's never a good idea to host an evil power inside of you...

Chapter Seven

Motion, in the room. Carly whipped awake, jumped out of the couch, and brandished the knife she always strapped to her leg. An old man sat in a wheelchair, bald and shriveled.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded, seeing the door still closed.

"I've been here the whole time. I simply chose not to allow you to see me until I was ready. Welcome to my school, Miss Carly Richards. Now sit, please, you have no need for that weapon. We have much to discuss." He motioned to the couch.

Carly backed off, alarms ringing in her head. Not sure she could trust Mr. Ancient. "Discuss?"

"Yes, I am Professor Charles Xavier and—"

"Listen. I'm just here for Lance. I don't want any funny business."

The old coot smiled. "Ah, yes. 'Funny business.' Like the stunt you pulled on Hank with the tomato?"

Carly gripped her knife. She didn't like surprises, and she was no friend to these people. "What about it?"

"Impressive feat. Come, sit, let's chat about it. I must say I'm quite intrigued with—"

Carly edged toward the door. "If it's all the same, I'd rather just leave. Do what you can for Lance. I'll come pick him up when he's ready."

The solicitous smile left the man's face. "Yes. I see. You are no amateur. At the same time, Hank reported a distinct request for assistance in your demonstration. Now, Miss Richards—"

"Wild Flower."

"Of course. Wild Flower. Let's stop talking in circles. We know who you are. You represent an organization we thought long vanquished, yet has managed to rise again. And you find yourself, a powerful person in your own right, a pawn in their schemes."

Carly snorted. "Stop right there. I'm not some poor girl trapped by some hideous plot. I am Hydra, just as you are a man in a wheelchair. It's in my blood, my soul." She was The Hydra, whatever demon that was, lurking deep inside.

The room grew dark, but no one had turned off the lights. Carly could only see herself and Professor Xavier.

"What are you doing?" She waved her knife as shivers crept down her spine.

"I'm opening a portal between us, a portal of the mind."

Oh, curses. No one should go spelunking around her mind. Heck, she didn't even know half the stuff in there. "No. Back off! You don't know what you're doing." She brandished the knife, but as it rose, it turned around, and found its way to her neck, pressing sharp against her neck. "Stop it!"

Xavier's words were mesmerizing. "No, we shall explore what's here."

Flowers appeared before her, huge, towering, sparkling with color. She couldn't move the knife from her throat, her limbs powerless.

"Your power," he said. "I wonder what it is? Not mutant power, that is certain, or we would have found you years ago. Some other form. Something not found in nature, yet of nature."

As he spoke, Carly felt it, dark, swirling, stirring the flowers surrounding them. The flowers grew dark, melting into black decay. "You don't want to do this," she warned, not even knowing what they faced, but it was not something they should ever mess with. Like old nitroglycerin.

Old Man Xavier's mind probe was a far worse violation that what Quicksilver had done as the tendrils of his mind sifted through hers, and she was just a powerless to stop the probing. Rage gathered at the roots of her being, stirring a pot best left undisturbed.

The knife pressed harder. "I heard a rumor long ago of an experiment, to give a subject the power of a hydra, to grow a new head. I wonder. What would happen if we cut off yours?"

Carly dared not draw on the power that swirled around her like a black ocean, but like the tide, it came anyways. "I don't know, but whatever I become, it would be more evil than you could ever imagine, more powerful than anything you could hope to destroy." She could feel the Hydra, inside, ready to take her place, waiting for Carly's death, wanting that knife to strike her down.

No.

Was that what she was? A ticking time bomb, waiting for someone to trigger her? To kill her? Whatever she became, she wouldn't be Carly anymore. She'd be a monster, intent on destroying the world.

Energy swirled around her as she willed the knife away. It was her power, fighting the Professor's, beating him back. Books and papers flew around the room in a tornado that Storm would be proud of. Carly fought to draw it back, put it back inside, just like Lance fought to keep the wild bull at bay, but this power was far beyond an animal's, far beyond a mutant's, perhaps beyond a God's. The tornado roared, throwing books and papers and chairs and chunks of ceiling in a maelstrom of rage. The Professor toppled out of his chair and slammed the far wall while the chair flew up against the window. Carly fought to swallow the power, control it, contain it, subdue it, but it danced out of her grasp, fighting to be let loose against the Professor and destroy him.

A piercing pain burst from her stomach. Carly gasped, her power rushing back inside, fighting the intrusion, but the talons were Adamantium, spiking from the right fist of Wolverine.

"Logan, what have you done?" cried the Professor.

Wolverine yanked out the talons, and Carly sank to the floor, her stomach crying in pain, her power busying itself with self-repair. He jumped to the Professor's side, righting his wheelchair and helping the man back up.

"She was attacking you," he said. "She's a Hydra agent. She's working with the Winter Soldier."

"You fool. We almost had a breakthrough. Now go get her some help. Hurry!"

Wolverine ran out of the room.

Carly sat in a daze as her blood doused her stolen pants and leaked onto the floor. The room spun, she couldn't focus, but down there, below the cuts that almost tore her in half, a rage circled, a deep blackness, an evil waiting to be spawned upon the earth. She would destroy this place and all within. She would lay waste to the countryside, see New York crumble, become queen of the world. The knife still lay across her fingers. All she had to do is draw it across her throat, and the world would be hers.

"Fight it," said the Professor, pulling himself back into his chair. "Be Carly Richards. Be Wild Flower. Fight the Hydra."

Carly? What a weak girl, driven by girlish hopes and fears. She should be the leader of Hydra, not a minor lackey. Men should crawl to her, women bow before her. One slice, and her true self would emerge, a magnificent and terrible goddess of darkness, sowing despair throughout the universe.

No. I am not the Hydra. Not yet, at least.

Carly dropped the knife. Her stomach ached less and less by the second. She struggled to her feet, wobbly at first, but then strong, facing the Professor. "Don't ever try that again. I might not be able to control it. I might not want to."

Professor X held out a palm to her. "I'm so sorry about Logan. I assure you he will face consequences."

Carly looked around the trashed room, at the puddle of blood at her feet. "And what about your consequences? You invaded my mind, triggered a thing that should not be disturbed. I did not ask for your help. I warned you."

The Professor wheeled closer. "You had to see. You had so little knowledge of what lay within, and I did what I could to give you a better glimpse. You have a right to know. And you did ask for help, not directly, but through Hank."

His logic was porous at best. "And now that you've seen just a glimpse? Do you lock me up? I don't think it would be wise to try. I'm pretty pissed about all this. I came here to help my friend and all I get is probed and stabbed. The hospitality of this place is less than awesome." Carly had half a mind to walk outside and turn all their carefully manicured landscaping into an impenetrable tangle. But he had a point. She'd seen more of what lay inside, come close to releasing it. If Wolverine hadn't intervened…

"No, of course not. You're free to leave anytime. I assure you there will be no other tests without your full consent and under controlled conditions. Why don't you at least stay the night? We'll replace your clothes for you of course, and whatever compensation you might require for your stay here. Please, we want to help. We just want you to know yourself."

Carly eyed the coot. He seemed somewhat sincere.

"And no more funny business?"