Deviant Strain

Deviant Strain

Out of Nowhere

He was just nearly a half-mile from the entrance to the mansion when he hit her.
She had walked right out into the street.
Out of nowhere in the bitter snowy night. And he hit her head on with the motorcycle.

It hadn't taken long for his reflexes. He had immediately grabbed her black cloaked body off the pavement and slumped her over his lap, riding furiously through the gates up to the door.

Logan kicked the wooden doors open, carrying the lifeless girl into the foyer, screaming out for anyone to help.

It was Jean who came rushing down the hallway…with Scott.
Of course with him - but this time it didn’t even make Logan flinch.

"What happened?" The redhead had asked, pulling back the hood of the girl’s cloak.
Her brow was furrowed, hands touching the girl’s neck, checking for a pulse.

Logan was flustered, confused, not in control of the situation.
There was a rush of emotions, memories, somehow suppressed in his mind, haunting him again.

He stuttered.
"I hit her with the bike...she walked right out into the road...I..."

Jean interrupted, pushing him ahead, "No time. Her pulse is weakening. We’ve got to get her to the infirmary."

In the rush down the hallway, Logan never saw Rogue sitting on the stairway.

_ _ _ _ _

Logan felt his eyes travel the length of her body once without emotion. He still couldn't understand it.
Of course she had helped him, treated him as if he were completely normal. Human.
But the reasoning behind his former undying lust for her was hard to find. Just as hard as it was to find why the feelings had dropped off almost immediately months ago.

Her voice drew his sight to the wall again.

"She has a concussion, nothing too serious. No bad cuts, broken bones, internal bleeding, just the bruise on her face. Actually, she’s quite lucky."

"Who is ‘she’ anyway?" Logan asked, partly conscious of the remorse in his voice.
Remorse for having left. For having all direction in his mentality towards Jean - all of the X-Men - to change.
If he could only remember why.

"She was on her way here."
They heard the voice behind them.
Turning, they saw Professor Xavier roll into the room.
"Welcome home, Logan," his grand voice echoed slightly.

"Oh yeah, nice homecoming," Scott smirked at the Professor then caught a glare from Logan.

Logan then rolled his eyes, turning back to the Professor, "She was on her way here?"

"Yes, Ms. Eden Calvary." The Professor reassured, stopping next to Eden who was laid out on a table, pale and comatose.

"Eden what? What the hell kind of name is that?" Logan asked, sarcastically, laughing slightly.

"She contacted us last month, said she was on her way."
Professor Xavier touched Eden’s icy hand, nodding towards Jean, "She had an…incident weeks before, and felt we were her best – or only - resource."

"So, this kid is a mutant?" Logan asked still not sure of the situation, "You teaching students to walk in the middle of the road?"

"What were you doing going so fast?" Scott asked, ticked off.
"On MY bike?" He added.

"Eden’s mutation is quite complex." The Professor continued, "And she is not a kid. Nor a student."
He rolled back to where the group was standing.

Jean spoke up, "She’s in her late 20's. Good health. Nothing out the ordinary in normal bloodwork. From the files, it appears she's even educated - despite her walking out into traffic."
Smiling at Logan then walking back to the desk, looking at a chart.

Logan moved closer to the girl lying on the cold metal examination table.
She didn’t so much look like a kid now with the cloak off.
Before, she almost looked like Rogue, bundled up in the cold, hiding in his trailer. But this girl wasn’t so young.
Her ebony brown hair was mussed about, her face in a content smile besides the bruise near her eye.
The horrible black bruise.

He pulled his eyes away, looking back at the Professor.

"So, I hit her on her way home?" Logan half-asked - feeling now only a slight amount of guilt.

That’s what people get for walking out into traffic.

"More or less. She was coming here in hopes of finding out what her mutation is. She is quite a ‘late bloomer’."

The Professor looked to Jean for any insight.
Her eyes shifted over a page of notes in front of her.

"I haven’t detected anything specific yet." She frowned, walking back over to them.