A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 4

April 2nd, 21:38

"Okay kids, that's it for the day," Logan announces. "Form a line and come get your sleeping bags. Should be a dry night so we won't need tents. We'll sleep in the hall."

"Good thing I practiced sleeping outside, see?" Julian says to me, grinning. He's smudged with dirt from when we got caught in an unexpected subbasement cave-in. This had resulted in Logan banning all of us students from actually entering the ruins without his supervision. After we had extricated ourselves, we participated in helping clear away rubble out of the mansion's main hall—and in demolition of the more unsound structural components of the ruins.

"No, you will hurt even worse tomorrow," I say. "Any soreness from the day prior will be compounded upon. Perhaps you should sleep in the jet. I could speak to Logan—"

"Don't you dare." He reaches out and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "He'd send me back for sure."

I smile slightly. He raises his eyebrows. "Were you…no way. Were you joking?"

"What is a joke?" I ask.

He seems comforted. I make an effort not to smile this time.

Soon it is our turn to receive sleeping bags, and Logan shoves one over to Julian, very roughly. "You're sleeping with the boys," he orders, then turns to me. "And you're sleeping with Kitty and Rachel, are we clear on this, Laura?"

"Yes," I say.

"Aw, come on!" Julian protests. "You can't be serious!"

"Watch it, Keller," Logan growls. "You better get to callin' me sir again. No way in hell are you sleeping near Laura. I'll skin you alive and use your hide as a flag for the school if you even think about it. I told Rachel to keep an eye on that slimy brain of yours."

Julian glares at him, his metal fingers tightening on the sleeping bag. Then he looks at me, his lip curling. "Guess you're old enough to choose when to take a life but not old enough to live one yourself," he says, but his words are not directed to me.

Logan's reaction is startling. He slams into my companion, knocking him backward, his hands digging into the sleeping back that Julian has raised as a shield. "WATCH IT!" the older man roars. "You don't ever talk about that again, you understand?!"

Julian's eyes are glowing green. "Get your hands off me or I'll show you what it's like to live without them!" he snaps.

I am troubled by this turn of events, aware that I am the reason for this dispute. Logan has never paid any heed to Julian before, while the latter has never felt it necessary to challenge his orders. I suspect he is trying to impress me with this display. I can smell his fear.

"Stop it!" I protest, reaching out to both of them.

With one hand Logan grips the collar of his uniform, and with the other he has made a fist, the tips of his claws emerging. "Not before I make an example outta him!" he seethes.

"Great, the first murder at this school will be by the headmaster," Kitty Pryde says dryly. "Keller, I really suggest you back down if you like your head intact."

Julian looks at me, then the glow in his eyes fades and he yanks his sleeping bag away from Logan's grasp—then stomps toward the growing group of male students. I watch him go. My mentor places his hand on my shoulder. "Laura—I know you don't understand this now but—"

"Please do not intrude on my business," I say, pushing his hand away.

Logan looks surprised, and perhaps hurt. "Laura?"

"Come on, let's go camp out by the stairs," Kitty Pryde says. "It'll be just like old times, remember? Although now I technically lord over both you and Rachel."

"Whatever," Rachel says, rolling her eyes.

…

April 3rd, 1:34

"Hm?" Julian raises his head slightly.

"Shhh," I whisper.

Even though it is pitch black, I can see very well in the dark—and thus am able to tell that he looks surprised. He makes a few movements and I hear the zipper of his sleeping back going down. I stop, listen carefully to make sure that Logan is still breathing steadily. He is positioned by the foot of the stairs, obviously to serve as a divider between the female and male students; however, he has forgotten that I am much more agile and highly trained than he is. Scaling the staircase took little planning and effort. He also forgot that drinking whiskey tends to dull his senses.

Confident that everyone is still asleep, I slide in beside him, smiling slightly. He rezips the bag mentally, his arms encircling my waist almost automatically. I was not tired a few moments ago, but suddenly I feel exhausted—as if I have gone weeks without sleeping. I tuck my head into his shoulder and my consciousness terminates within moments.

…

April 3rd, 6:15

"Rise and shine!" Logan shouts.

Around us, people moan in protest. Julian pretends to keep sleeping, although I can hear that he has woken by his rising heart rate.

"Got a lot of work to do today!" Logan continues. "Hurry up or you'll miss the pancake breakfast!"

Now Julian's eyes open. "Pancakes?" he asks. I remember that they are Megan's favorite food, and I frown slightly. I miss her. "Yes," I reply.

"I guess I'm up," he replies, struggling to sit. I unzip the edge of the sleeping bag and slide out, my eyes on Logan—who has just noticed where I am. He raises his eyebrows at me, but says nothing. But I know that he will want to talk later.

I am confused by Logan, as per usual. He has told me—consistently—that I need to 'make [my] own choices' and that I need to 'defeat [my] programming'. Yet when I finally do so, he is angry and disapproving. I look away.

"Floor hurt like a motherfucker," Julian mumbles, rubbing his spine.

I direct my gaze to him again. "You should have slept in the jet like I suggested."

"And miss out on you breaking the rules?" He grins at me as he gets to his feet. "Not for anything. Where's the food?"

I inhale. "This way," I say, heading toward the door. We reach the fountain and find Kitty and Rachel making pancakes with a portable griddle and a container of batter, bickering loudly about whether to heat the syrup. There is also scrambled eggs and fried sausages. Once we have both obtained a plate of food, we look for a spot to sit and finally select one; a section of foundation that has crumbled to about our waist height.

We perch on the edge and begin to eat, examining our surroundings in the light of the rising sun.

"What a mess," Julian comments.

I say nothing. I cannot stop thinking of Megan. I am not aware that I have ceased eating until he points this out to me. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes," I say, trying to clear my mind. Focus. I begin to load up my fork again.

"Something on your mind?" Julian asks.

I hesitate. "Yes."

"What?" he asks easily.

I do not want to tell him about Megan. I feel he would not understand why we parted. He would not see just how dangerous the Facility is. He is watching me expectantly.

"Just a memory," I say. "I do not want to discuss it."

"You sure?" he replies. "Sometimes it helps to talk about it."

I think about this. "Someone I once knew liked pancakes. My cousin."

"Cousin?" he asks.

"Yes." I pause. "She is dead. Kimura killed her." This seems to be a solution; Julian will never know otherwise, and thinking she is dead will prevent any misguided attempts to unite us.

"Kimura killed your cousin?" he asks, dropping his fork.

"Yes." Actually, this is not far from the truth. I remember the basement. "Kimura put her finger through Megan's heart. I was chained to a staircase with an Adamantium handcuff." Once I begin the lie, it comes easily. I am lying for a mission. I am lying by mere omission.

"What the—" he seems very upset. "How'd you get out? Did you tell anyone that Kimura did this?"

"Yes, you," I say. "I said you should kill her." I hesitate on his other question. "I cut off my hand."

He stares at me, and I regret telling him. "Please forget it." I push the forkful of pancakes into my mouth and begin to chew. "Eat."

"But—" he looks down at my hands, and his forehead wrinkles. "It grew back?"

I swallow. "No, I reattached it. But they can grow back."

His mouth tightens slightly, and I can almost see his thoughts. He is jealous of me, of my ability to regenerate myself. I feel unhappy that I have brought this to his attention. "Please forget it," I say again.

"No I can't just forget it!" he says angrily. "You just told me that your cousin was murdered right in front of you and that you had to—" he shoves his plate off his lap and jumps down off the wall, jams his metal hands into his pockets and stomps off, furious with me. I too put my plate aside, no longer hungry. I very much wish I had not shared my past with him.

…

April 3rd, 14:21

"I'm sorry about earlier," Julian tells me later in the afternoon. I plant my shovel firmly into the ground and lean on it as I look up at him, over the edge of the hole I have been digging.

I say nothing.

"It was just a lot to take in." He stares down at me, his expression serious. "I guess I should know better than to expect light conversation from you."

"You asked me what I was thinking about," I remind him.

He nods. "That's why I'm sorry."

"Okay." I pick up my shovel again and resume working. He stands in place for a moment, then moves to the edge of the hole, jumps in and wraps his arms around my midsection. "Really, Laura, I didn't do it right," he insists.

I put my shovel aside again. "Do what right?" I ask, studying him.

"You told me something major and I…" he looks down, frowning. "I could only think of myself."

I do not know what to say.

"I want my hands back so bad." He grips me tightly with his metal fingers. "These are great…and I'll never stop being amazed that you got them for me, Laura…but I want to feel again, when I touch things…when I touch you…" he raises his eyes again, and I feel very bad.

"I am sorry," I say. "I would give you my healing factor if I could."

"It's not your fault." He grits his teeth for a moment. "There's a lot of people to blame for it…but not you. You're the only one who even tried to make it better."

"I can still be sorry if I want," I point out.

He pauses, then smiles slightly. "Thanks…but I'm the one who's sorry about earlier. If I do something wrong…it's not you, it's me, okay?"

I am surprised. "But I lack social skills," I say. "Not you."

"Other people might have a different opinion about that," he says, releasing my waist and pointing to the shovel. "What're you doing here?"

"Preparing a place for the sewage tank," I explain. "The old one was apparently radioactive and had to be taken away by specialists."

Julian stares at me. "Who the hell was….really, radioactive sewage?"

"I doubt any of us will suffer ill effects," I reassure him. "The school has had many students over the years who could be the culprits."

He rubs his face with his palms. "I had to ask," he mumbles.

I say nothing.

"Well…here…I can do this in a few seconds and then we can go chill out for a while, okay?" he suggests. "It's too freaking hot to do slave labor."

"It is only eighty-nine degrees Fahrenheit," I argue. "The Egyptians built their pyramids with slave labor at temperatures of—"

"I'm sure they did," he interrupts. "But they didn't have telekinetics. How big does this need to be?"

"Ten feet wide by fifteen feet long by ten feet deep," I say.

"Okay." His eyes glow, and he makes a pushing gesture with his hands. I shield my eyes against the bright green light with my arms, but I can do nothing about the cavernous roar of the earth ripping away around me, nor about the shaking under my feet.

"That good?" he asks, coughing.

I look around us. He has peeled back an enormous slab of earth and rolled it up at the end—fifteen feet away. A precursory glance tells me that the dimensions should be sufficient. I nod. "Yes, that looks—"

There is a huge RRRRUMBBLEE as the ground shakes again. We trade confused glances, and then something bursts out of the soil directly beneath my feet. I let out a gasp as I am catapulted into the air, but I have mastered my surprise by the time I reach the turnaround point of my trajectory, and I pop my claws with a loud SNIKT!

"LAURA!" Julian shouts, from about a dozen yards away. I turn my head and see that he is flying toward me. Then I look down as I begin to enter free fall, and see—in the hole we have dug—is a large rocky protuberance…and in the middle of that, an enormous eye.

My eyebrows draw together. Julian catches me at that moment, and I begin moving sideways instead of downward. I direct my attention to him again. "What is that?" I ask, pointing at the ground. He comes to a floating stop in the air and we both gaze down at whatever it is. We see that other people are reacting, and there are some screams in the distance.

"I don't really wanna find out," he says.

"Look!" I exclaim, now pointing at the fountain. It is being pushed up, high into the air…on the same strange rocky surface as surrounds the eye.

"Damn," he says. "Do we have to go back?"

"Yes," I say, without hesitation. "Logan will need our help."

"But…"

"Drop me, then," I order.

He sighs. "Fine, fine…speaking of Wolverine, can you see where he is?"

I squint at the ground, then see a flash of yellow and blue running toward the fountain. I point, and we descend very quickly. Julian reaches out and grabs Logan by his collar mid-stride, lifting him into the air with us. "What do we do?!" he yells above the wind.

Logan looks over his shoulder, and for a moment I think he is going to attack him for this bold action, but then he speaks. "Get me up there!" he orders.

"Okay," Julian says—and he flings him up at the creature's head.

"Me as well," I say.

A moment later I have joined Logan at the top. He is standing on the fountain, his claws imbedded into the central piece. I can see that he is thinking out his next actions carefully.

"What is this?" I ask, moving up to join him and also stabbing my claws into the central piece.

"Krakoa," Logan says, sucking his tongue. "Shit."

My eyebrows draw together. "I have not heard of—"

"It's a living island," he says. "What I don't have figured out is why the hell it's in Westchester instead of the ocean…and how we're going to take it down."

I say nothing, but I am very concerned. I have never fought anything so large as the earth itself before, and after learning that I am indeed vulnerable—to a point—I am not at all confident that it is a battle that I can win.

"Are there any alternatives?" I ask. The fountain moves backward—Logan and I grip onto it very tightly, anchored by our claws—and begins to shake. The sound that emits from directly beneath us is so loud that my eardrums rupture and blood pours out of my ear canals. I look over at Logan and see that he is gritting his teeth, the sides of his head also covered in blood. The fountain tips forward again.

My wounds heal an instant later, as do his.

"That's yer answer right there," he replies.

I press my lips together.

"HOLY CRAP!" Bobby Drake says, suddenly rising to our level on top of a very tall and wobbling ice slide. "Logan! It's—"

"Yeah, I know…Krakoa," Logan says, sounding annoyed. "Jus' hold on. I'm thinkin', okay?"

"Well think fast—while you guys are all cosy up here, Quentin Quire started taunting it and then Oya got involved—"

"WHAT?!" Logan retracts his claws from the fountain. "Fuckin' Quire! I'm going to kill him!"

"That won't be necessary if Krakoa finishes him off first," Drake says. "Oh man, this is so bad. The last time we had Professor X to help us at least—"

"We have Rachel!" Logan snaps.

"She tried, but it's so big," Drake replies.

"Quentin Quire is also a telepath—" I begin.

"No! No kids bein' soldiers anymore!" Logan snaps at me. "Get it through your head, Laura. Your fighting days are done."

I gaze at him skeptically. Julian lands behind me at that moment. "What's the plan?" he asks.

My mentor glares at him for a moment. "Go sit this out by the jet," he orders. "Both of you."

"You can't be serious—" Julian and Drake say at the same time, but Logan holds up his hand. "Not hearin' you out," he says. "But Keller—you an' me—we're goin' to have a nice, long talk about you and the amount of trouble you've gotten us into here, see?"

"What?!" Julian demands. "I didn't put this freaking thing here!"

"GO!" Logan barks.

"Please," I say to Julian. Not now.

He scowls, grabs me by the wrist and jumps off the edge of the fountain, his eyes glowing. "I don't see why the fuck this is my fault!" he yells, over the wind. "I didn't do anything but try to help!"

We land beside the jet, among the rest of the gathered students. Santo approaches us right away, grinning widely. "Dude! Finally found a rock bigger than I am!"

"You should give yourself a trophy," Julian says.

"Maybe I will." Santo looks at me. "Why you here? Thought you'd be out with the real X-men."

"I am a student," I say, although I am just as confused about Logan's orders as he is. Everyone should be helping with this situation, not just the adults.

"No you're not," Quentin Quire says. I had not noticed him approaching us. He looks at me and grins in a very self-assured way. "You're just as good as Logan up there—better—but he's too proud to admit that a girl that weighs a third of what he does could outdo him in a fight."

Julian looks over at Quire. "Who gave you permission to speak?" he says, his lip curled in a derisive smirk.

Quire's response is surprising, because I have not seen him reacting to the other students in such a manner. He glares at my companion. "I don't need your permission!" he snaps.

I sense that I missing some prior information.

"Really?" Julian asks. "I seem to remember you begging to be on my squad when you were, what, twelve? Thirteen? You said you'd do anything, but you failed our tests."

"Hey, I remember that!" Santo says, grinning. "Little squirt ran away crying."

Quire glares at them. "You're fucking dead, both of you!" he hisses, and I smell the adrenaline he is releasing. Then he pauses, takes a breath, and his expression relaxes. "That was the past. As I see it now…you're just two freaks." He looks at Santo. "You don't even have a body…and you," he says, looking at Julian now. "Well you're just sad. Peaked with your powers already, haven't you? And can't even defend yourself."

"Shut up or I'll make you wet your pants again," Julian says, attempting to sound calm—but I detect that he is now releasing adrenaline as well.

"Please," Quire says. "I could shut down your higher functions without even thinking about it. You're all brawn and no brain when it comes to powers, you see."

"Oooh, I think they're goin' to fight," Santo says, sounding excited about this fact.

"Stop it," I say.

"See? Your little girlfriend is scared for you," Quire says. He looks at me. "Why waste your time on him?" he asks. "You could do much better." He reaches out and puts his arm around my shoulders.

Julian's eyes are glowing. "I'llstrangle you with your own intestines," he announces.

"Logan will expel you," I say, twisting away from the other boy. "Please, stop."

"You know," Santo says. "If you guys really wanna prove yerselves…why don't you go beat up Krakoa? I think Oya's still out there."

Julian and Quire look at each other.

"No—" I begin, but they are already gone. I watch them disappear in a blurred field of green and pink, and I feel I have failed Logan. I sink down to my knees.

"Aw, damn," Santo says. "I didn't think they were actually gonna do it." He pats me on the back with his large stony hand. "Sorry, Laura."

I say nothing.

"I'm sure Julian can take care of himself," Victor says, coming to stand beside me.

"Yeah, and look on the bright side…those hands he got are real cool," Santo offers. "If he loses any more parts you can just take him back to that place you got em from, right? He could be like Darth Vader!"

My chin crumples.

"Oh my god Santo," Cessily says, joining the conversation. She sounds upset. "You are such an idiot."

"I was tryin' to comfort her!" he protests, raising his hands in the air.

"Your idea of 'comfort' scares me." She rubs my shoulder. "Come on, Laura…we'll go talk some sense into Julian, okay?"

"But you are not his friend anymore," I say, my voice small.

She sighs. "Forget what I said. His stupid ass needs saving, and we're clearly the only ones capable of doing that right now."

"Okay," I say.

We run down the hill, and behind us I hear a great number of students following our example.