Chapter
Four: Defensive Reactions
It was light when Laura woke. Perhaps six or seven a.m.
It took her a few moments to remember where she was,
and what had happened the previous night. She
uneasily, pulled herself up into a sitting position,
and immediately winced from the pain. In the few hours
that she'd been asleep it had worsened. On top of the
pain and feeling dizzy and sick, she now felt a sharp
sensation throughout her body, as if somebody was was
constantly slashing at her insides. She let out a low
cough, and almost cried out as the pain from the
cough's echo rocketed though her entire body.
Trying to pull herself together, it was then she
noticed she was covered with an old brown blanket.
Logan must have draped it over her while she slept.
She knew that if she still had her senses, she'd be
able to smell his scent on it. Logan. She was glad he
was here. She still couldn't help the flicker of anger
that surged though her occasionally. She was still
angry that he'd left her all those months ago, but he
was here now, that was good enough - not that she was
about to let him know that.
Laura moved the blanket to one
side, then forced herself to stand. As she did, she
felt a rush of blood to the head, and swayed a little.
After a moment she regained her balance, just, and
began to look around the room. Her gaze fell on a slightly open glass door, which she supposed led to
some kind of baloney. Slowly Laura made her away
across the room towards the glass door, careful to
avoid the old wooden coffee table, positioned a few
inches from the Sofa. As she passed, she caught sight
of the contents that lay upon the table: bandages, a
couple of blood stained cloths and a bowl of
murky-red water lay amongst a dish full of at least
two dozen golden bullets. It was these small objects
that were responsible for the pain she was
feeling. She couldn't pick up a scent right now, but
she knew with no uncertainty that they had been laced
with some kind of poison.
Letting go of the memories of the previous night, she
slowly made her way across the room to the glass door.
Looking through the glass, she could now see that it
did indeed lead to a small baloney. Sliding the glass
door back a little, Laura stepped out into the chilly
morning air. The balcony was perhaps a meter in width
and maybe just over two in length. Laura looked to the
left to see Logan, bear bottle in hand, sitting on a
worn padded porch-swing, which took up most of the
balcony itself. He saw her and shifted over a little
to give her room to sit. She look the invitation, and
sat.
For a few moments Laura watched Logan drink his bear.
She had once asked him why he drank so much of the
stuff, he had told her, "For a little while, it makes
all the pain go away". Laura just thought it
smelled fowl. He caught her watching him, and she
quickly turned away. Suddenly she let out an
uncontrolled cough. "Yer're gettin' worse, aren’t yer?"
he asked. "I'm fine..." she lied, not looking at him
as she spoke. "Cut the crap, kid" said Logan
sharply, "I got
the same abilities as you" he carried on. "One, I can
smell yer're lyin’. Two, I can hear yer vitals slowin'.
Three, I can see yer in pain", he paused for a moment,
"Yer want me to go on?" he asked. Laura shook her
head. He had made his point. Logan watched her,
waiting for her to speak. She sighed, "What do you
want me to tell you, Logan? When you can smell, see
and hear what's happening to me" she asked. "I don't
want yer to lie to me, kid" he replied. Laura felt a
slight ache in her stomach towards that sentence. She
bowed her head, and turned away from
him, looking out ahead at morning smog.
But then, she thought, he left me. Why
should he be able to make me feel bad? That's not
right, it's nor fair. Her thoughts were
interrupted by Logan, "Yer're shakin'...", he observed.
Laura hadn't even noticed, until now. She was
freezing. "Here," said Logan as he took off his jacket
and draped it around her shoulders. "Thank you..." she
whispered. They both sat in silence for a few moments.
Laura broke it, she'd been watching him. "It's not
cold right now, is it?". She knew New York City's
early morning Summer climate was nothing that their
healing factor couldn't handle - usually. Logan
slightly shook his head, "No", he confirmed. "Then why
I am I--" she broke off, realising the answer. She was
feeling so cold because she was sick. Something she'd
never experienced before.
"I have a
friend. He's good with the science stuff", he told
her. "Gonna ask him to check out one of the bullets,
see if we can find out what A.I.M shot yer to hell
with" he carried on. "A friend?" asked Laura, "You
mean Doctor McCoy" she stated. Logan didn't answer,
instead he moved his bear bottle to his lips and
drank. "Logan, after what I did... do you really
expect the X-Men to help me?". "It wasn't yer're
fault. Or your choice" came his sharp reply. There was
a moments pause between the two of them. "That is not
what I asked" answered the teen. Logan stood up, Laura
waited for him to answer her question. He wasn't going
to. The truth was, he didn't know if Hank would help.
"I'll be back soon. Stay inside the apartment" he told
her, then made for the balcony's glass door.
"Logan?". He turned back to face her, "Yeah?". She
paused for a moment before speaking, "Will... will you
tell them... That I'm sorry?" she asked in an almost
pleading tone. At first Logan wasn't sure how to
react. He could see the kid was generally sorry
for what had happened, even though she'd had no
control over the situation, but he knew if he brought
up her apology, it wouldn't make a difference in the
slightest. Everyone at the school was still very much
in the grieving process - and they all were very
pissed off. Going in there right and asking them to
help her, he knew was pushing his luck way beyond
reason - even if he was part of the team, but he had
no other choice. She was sick, and he was desperate.
He wondered if he explained, would she understand
their emotions? He wasn't sure, so he didn't. He gave
a nod, but he refused to make direct eye contact.
Logan exited the Baloney, and then a few moments
later, Laura heard the apartment's front door open and
close. Laura pulled Logan's jacket closer to her skin,
wrapping herself in it - not so much to protect
herself from the New York morning chill, but more in a
way of comfort. Her mind drifted back to what she had
done at the school. She remembered the blood, the
sounds of the other kids' screams as her claws
pierced their flesh. She remembered Sooraya looking up
at her with dying eyes. "No!" muttered Laura, shutting
her eyes tight her shaking her head trying to block
out the memories and the images. She covered her face
with her hands, as if the gesture would help. Of
course, it didn't.
They shouldn't
help me,
she thought.
After what I did,
Logan has no right to ask.
"So, what do yer think, Hank?" asked Logan. He had
arrived at the school about thirty minutes ago and
soon located the fury blue Mutant in his Laboratory.
It's fair to say that Doctor Hank McCoy, has one of
the most obvious mutations known to the world.
Although Hank walks like a man, his body is covered
with thick blue fur, and he has facial feature's much
like that of a panther, including cat-like snout and
ears. But despite his Beast-like appearance, Hank is
known as a gentle being, always having time for his
friends and the students. "What I think is," Hank
looked up from his telescope equipment, "This DNA
looks very familiar. I've worked with almost the same
strand in the past". He rolled up the sleeves of his
white laboratory coat and looked directly at Logan,
"Yours to be exact", he paused, then said in a
matter-of-factly tone, "Something you want to tell me,
Logan?".
Logan sighed. Busted. He should have known Hank would
have figured it out straight away. After all, he was
one of the smartest men Logan had ever met - and he'd
met a lot of people. Under all that fur, Logan knew,
was a brilliant scientific mind, especially in
Biochemistry and genetics. "The, friend who was
shot with this - It's Miss Kinney, correct?". Logan
didn't answer. The look on his face was enough to
confirm Hank's question. "Ah. I see" said Hank,
seeming not very impressed.
Logan immediately jumped into defensive mode, "Look,
Hank, I know what's she done, and 'cause of that I
know I got no right to ask yer to help her, but,
she... Hank's she's sick, really sick. Whatever
A.I.M shot her to hell with, it's killing her...".
"Logan--" interrupted Hank, but to no avail, "Hank,
she's just a kid. A kid who's been though hell.
A kinda hell I know something about. I kinda hell nobody deserves to be put though".
Silence filled the room while Hank seemed to absorb
that. "No matter what she's done, she's still my
family. The kid's a part of me - literally. If I don't
help her... who will?" finished Logan quietly, in an
almost broken and desperate tone.
Hank cleared his throat, he'd heard Logan talk this
way perhaps once or twice in all of the years he'd
known him. "Logan, what makes you think I that can
help her?", "Come on, I'm takin' to the guy who cured
the Legacy Virus" replied Logan. "Yes, well..." began
Hank, then proceeding to clear his throat again.
"Hank, please, I'm asking yer as a friend". Silence
filled the room once again. After a few moments Hank
spoke, "Alright" he agreed. "I should have a
result by tonight. I'll call when I know
something". "You mean you'll do this?
You'll help her?" asked
Logan, surprised. He really thought persuading Hank
would have been much more difficult than this. "Yes" said Hank, "I am a scientist,
Logan. I crave knowledge. But, as they say, you now:
owe me one" he smiled. "Thanks, Hank. I
really appreciate it" said Logan. Hank gave him a
nod, then turned back to his
equipment to to re-study small golden object.
Logan left him to his work and exited the Laboratory.
Logan had made it though the
School corridors and to the main entrance when he
sensed Scott behind him, moments later he spoke, "This
really isn't fair, Logan". With a sigh Logan tuned to
face the taller man. "I mean, could you be more
insensitive?!" he carried on. "Keep yer pants on,
Summers", he pointed to the door, "I'm goin', ain't
I?". "Logan, you damn well I'm not asking you to
leave. You're part of the team. This is your home".
"It just ain't hers, that what you're saying'?". Scott
sighed. "I stand by what I said. I'm sorry". "Yeah.
Right" muttered Logan, turning to leave. "You should
have come to me before asking Hank to--" "How'd you
know about that already?" asked Logan, "Oh wait", he
realised, "Havin' a telepathic girlfriend has it's
perks, I'm guessin'?". The look on Scott's face
confirmed it, Emma had indeed informed him of the
meeting in Hank's Lab. "Pity she weren't around doin'
her mind-crap when that Facility Agent walked in
here", Loagn carried on.
"And, What went down between me and Hank, is none of
yer business, Summers. Alright? It's between me and
him!", "Anyone coming in here and asking the X-Men for
help is nothing but my business!". "You know"
began Logan, stepping up to Scott, "Laura's not the
only one who's been forced to hurt innocent people,
hurt people in this school". Scott spoke in a slight
and careful tone, "I'm well aware of that, Logan".
"Right. And Chuck gave me a second chance. Maybe you
should learn from that" retorted Logan. "I did
give her a second chance! I even went against Emma for you - for her.
No matter what you think of me right now, I did not
come to this decision lightly. I have to protect the
rest of the students. I thought you could understand
that". "Oh, I can" replied Logan, "But it's the way yer goin' about it that really pisses me off!"
he growled.
Scott sighed. This was getting them nowhere. "Logan, I
couldn't have known that they'd come here
succeed in getting to her. I couldn't have seen what
was com--", "Exactly! Nobody coulda
done,
Summers! Including Laura!" spat Logan.
"And the worst part is, I promised her she'd be
safe here!". He turned back to the front door and
opened it. Before walking out, without tuning back to
face Scott, he spoke, "Oh, and, not that it'd mean a
damn thing to anyone here, but the kid asked me to tell
you she's sorry". And with that he walked out of
the front door and down the steps. |
