CHAPTER 6 ½:

SOUNDTRACK: Storm Clouds Rising- Florida Mass Choir

The jet ride home was eerily panicked but quiet. Everyone walked on eggshells with Rogue, and no one dared to talk near or to Laura. Not only did she come in contact with her old demons, but she tried keeping her best friend alive long enough to get home. Dr. McCoy can do much more.

Setting the scene more, thunderstorms rock the blackbird, making Lyla feel Storm's anger is unmatched when they touch down at the mansion.

And she was right. She stood in the middle of the room like the first night she arrived.

Everything comes full circle, doesn't it, reader?

Lyla was chained from neck to ankle.

Storm stood in front of her, arms crossed. Logan was behind her, puffing on a cigar in case Ororo needed to attack Lyla. Do they not understand she could break through these? All she has to do is change her body composition and mindset, and boom, gone. But that's what got her in this mess the first time, huh?

Nevermind reader.

She's disappointed enough people tonight.

Lyla worked up the courage to finally meet Ororo's gaze. She wish she hadn't.

In her eyes, Storm no longer felt sorry for Lyla. No more playing nice. No more giving her the benefit of the doubt.

No.

More.

"Do you have any idea what I've done for you?!" Storm snapped. These were the first words Lyla had heard throughout the entire trial.

Lightening cracked outside.

The lights inside flickered, but Lyla couldn't take her eyes off Storm.

"We gambled on giving you a bit of freedom, and you use that freedom to pay it forward by nearly killing Wanda and snatching off Lance's arm."

Storm paused, searching her eyes for a hint of emotion, forgiveness, apology, anything. Unfortunately, her light died a few years back; there's nothing there.

"Was this revenge for Wanda cutting you off?"

If she had the strength to laugh, she would.

Her jaw ticked instead.

Revenge was the last thing on her mind. The past is the past. She doesn't hold grudges. Hell, long ago, she forgave Graydon until he attacked her family and friends. Then, her grudge pushed her to remove his head from his shoulders, but it also caused her to lose her mind. So…grudges aren't worth having.

Why did she attack Wanda?

No clue.

One minute, she shoved Jamie out of the room to protect him from Lance's brainless mind. The next, Lyla was getting her ass whooped again by Rogue. This time is warranted.

Storm asked her again, a privilege she wasn't expecting.

"A-Ah—" Lyla's ribs squeezed her heart, catching it from falling into her stomach. The familiar scent of coconut and lavender filled her lungs, and tears wept.

It can't be.

A scent she couldn't forget. A smell she thought she'd never forget.

Storm waited for her to speak, but nothing came out, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Rogue said something witty about them not saving her from the wraith they all have toward her.

The tears aren't for Wanda.

They should be, but they aren't.

Needing to see for herself, Lyla's feet took off. Forget about the consequences; she must drop to her knees and apologize. The chains were a hindrance, but she kept going.

In the foyer,

She ignored Pietro, a grieving brother, who sped toward her, punching her over and over.

She looked past Pietro's fists and ignored John, her panicked ex-boyfriend. He now knew what Wanda had felt like all these years.

She ignored Stahr, the other who held her heart but betrayed her again, who stood beside the white bishop, Warren Worthington III.

Lyla even ignored her best friend, the one person she could trust.

Shoving Pietro off her with an elbow to his nose, she moved to her knees, her eyes finding light and life again.

"M—Mali."