11|Down, but Not Out

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Soreness reached her first as she woke. Along with her right temple pounding, she felt unbelievably stiff throughout her entire body.

The memory of the car wreck came next. Something popping a tire, crashing into a tree, Remy being taken by Nitall's men, and someone finding her flashed through her mind. Even though they longed to stay shut so she could rest, Lauren forced her eyes open to see where she was.

It took a few blinks for her to get accustomed to the white light—it wasn't so bright it hurt her eyes; the white walls just seemed to make it glow. The cabinets, tables, chairs... everything was silver; absolutely no color shined in the room.

Well, it didn't have the appearance of a hospital room... Where had that guy taken her?

Lauren lay on a simple slab with a pillow under her head and a light blanket to keep her warm. The air felt cool on her face and it smelled clean—not sterile like a doctor's office, but close to it to know this was a healing room. She looked over to find three other tables spaced out enough where four people could stand shoulder-to-shoulder between each one. She also found a man propped against the open door.

He wore boots, blue jeans, and a tight black shirt tucked into the pants. He clearly worked out with his sturdy, yet hairy, forearms and bulging, muscled biceps. The shirt outlined his narrow waist, and a defined chest. His dark, lush hair styled in a 'v' made him look wild, like he belonged in the outdoors.

"Good to see you awake, kid," he greeted.

He had the same rough voice as the man who found her. Her arms shook as she pushed herself up, body aching at the movement.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Logan; yours?"

"Lauren." She would keep her last name to herself for now until she discovered if she could trust him.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"I guess you can call it my home—Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

She looked at him; her breath caught in her throat. "What did you say?"

Logan's dark eyebrows furrowed. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters; why do you recognize it?"

Lauren wanted to cry. She had made it and Remy hadn't—the human instead of the mutant. What a cruel twist of fate. Since he lived here, did that mean Logan had powers? Maybe she could still convince the mutants here to help...

"Because she was hoping for refuge here," a new voice said, proper and slightly dry like an older man, as a bald man in a wheelchair appeared at the door. He wore a suit, had blue eyes, and drove his electric chair around with a stick mounted on an armrest. Logan got out of the way so the man could roll in.

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I know everything about you, Lauren Binns." He stopped beside her and offered his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you; I'm Professor Charles Xavier."

She tensed at him stating her name but he wasn't judging her, just continued to look at her softly. Feeling at ease around him, she shook his hand. "So, you're a telepath?"

He nodded; she looked at Logan. "Are you a mutant too?"

He answered by lifting his fist and three blades slid out of his knuckles, like claws. The metal unsheathing she had heard before he cut her out of the car was that. With a shing, the claws retracted and Logan folded his arms again.

"You're not afraid..."

Lauren shook her head. "I've been around a mutant for a while."

"Only one mutant, though; a Remy LeBeau." Professor Xavier looked back at Logan. "The driver you smelled."

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