Young Writers Society

Why do I seem to spend most of my time unconscious now?

That was the thought that ran through my head as I dragged myself out of the abyss of sleep, or whatever it was. I wasn't in a cage this time, that much was clear. Feeling around with my hands, I knew I was laying on some sort of bed.

I wasn't in the building that we had been trapped in either. It didn't smell the same. There was an undertone of some sort of fuel, and from the very faint vibrations I could tell we were in some sort of moving vehicle.

“Ouuuuuch.” I moaned. My head was killing me. And that was the least of my problems.

I was strapped down.

Crap.

My brain completely activated once that thought crossed my mind. However, I didn't allow myself to move. I could sense that someone else was in the room with me. I didn't even change my breathing. The last thing I needed was to get caught again.

What if they're about to do what they did to Storm?

Wait. If I'm here, then where are the others?

Dang it. Now I'm going to have to find them again.

I drew a breath, and accidentally twitched. Oops. “I think she's waking up..” I hear a slightly distant and unrecognizable voice say. “Jean, get in here.” Whelp, I wasn't about to stick around for whatever was coming next. I reached out and clicked on my power, making it hover against the surface.

Don't ask me how I was doing it, because I didn't know. It was just instinctual, keeping myself partially solid until the moment I decided to bolt.

A hand touched my forehead, and a second later I sunk through the bed and into the floor. Unlike the last time I dropped, at home, I was in control and somewhat knew what I was doing. Ignoring a woman's surprised shriek, I flipped myself so that I was facing the floor before passing through it and solidifying.

The gymnastics and dance classes paid off. Like my nick-namesake, I landed on my feet. Granted, it wasn't any kind of graceful, and it was closer to falling and stumbling than it was to landing, but I managed to stay on my feet. Add that to the fact that I had enough space to do a complete flip before hitting the ground.

Straightening slowly, I gently clicked my power off, and at once my senses began to go completely haywire, and I couldn't for the life of me tell where I was. I could feel a very strong vibration that was traveling all through my body and causing me to shake. The smell of engine oil and heavy fuel was strong, and nearly drove me to my knees when I breathed. I immediately began to gag, and collapsed, sticking my hands out in front of me to break my fall.

I was probably inhaling something toxic, but I couldn't click my power back on no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't remember how. And then, all of a sudden, I heard this weird sound right next to me.

BAMF.

And then I was gagging for a different reason. This time, it was sulfur.

Gentle strong hands moved me away from the scent, and pushed me into a chest. I began to squirm in an attempt to get away, but relaxed when I recognized the scent. “Kurt, are you trying to kill the poor child?” Storm's African accent reached my ears. She was alright. I continued to cough, even though the need to was slowly fading.

“Nien, nien, I svear it! She vas going to die down there, and I vas the only one who could reach her in time!”

It was the man I had spoken to on the comlink. Finally able to breath easily again, I carefully separated myself from the female mutant. I held out my hand in his general direction. He didn't take it.

Maybe I wasn't close enough.

Following the faint, lingering sulfur scent, I planted myself in front of him and held out my hand again. He didn't even reach out or seem to acknowledge it. I huffed.

“Look Mr. Kurt or whatever I am supposed to call you, I don't know about Germans, but Americans generally shake hands as a polite form of greeting. I don't bite.”

“I do not vish to scare you, little one.”

I think steam came out of my ears.

“Between you, Piotr, Storm, and Logan I am ready to blow a gasket!” I shrieked. “Why do you constantly feel the need to incorporate my size into your names for me? I have a name! Katherine. Kat. Kitty. I prefer the last one, but I will listen to any one of those. The next person who says something about my height is going to be pushed into a wall.”

“Jeez kid, you're feisty.” Wolverine said.

He still didn't take my offered hand, so now that I had substantial control over my body, I cast my senses out to try and make some, well, sense of all this. I could smell cigars (Wolverine), wildflowers (Storm), a hint of vodka (Piotr), sulfur (which I now attributed to Kurt), and three others. The vibrations that had nearly driven me insane were still there, but they weren't as strong. The air pressure indicated that we were in a somewhat largish area. There was a slight whirring noise in two different places, one to my left and behind me. I immediately knew what they both were, having heard them both before.

“Nice jet Professor Xavier,” I said somewhat sarcastically. Okay, really sarcastically. “Tell me, do you often kidnap adolescents?”

Everyone jumped slightly at the sound of my voice. It was a little scratchy from disuse and chemical exposure, but I think that while the sound was weird, the real reason they jumped was because they didn't expect me to speak.

“What? Did I scare you?” I joked.

“You shouldn't even be conscious.” I didn't know that voice. It was male though.

“Oh,” I bit back to whoever he was. “Sorry, my bad. Next time I'll just die, that will make sure I never wake up.”

“What he means Kitty,” Xavier cut in, in an effort to sooth both of us I assume, “Is that you were just in the portion of the jet which contains our fuel, part of the engine, and the filter that keeps the oxygen clean. Add that to the fact that Kurt was the one that got you out and you just endured severe blunt force trauma to the head, we are not even sure you should be alive right now.”

Well, go me. Clearly, I am a survivor.

That buzzing feeling I had felt back when I was with Emma and her creepy partner in crime returned. The Professor was attempting to snoop inside my head, and it was giving me a slight migraine. It was also as uncomfortable as the time one of the girls in my locker room at dance class stole all my thongs, and I had to do my entire routine with my tights and tutu jammed up my butt.

“Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to read peoples minds without their permission?”

The buzzing went away. Apparently, I startled him.

“You can feel that?”

“Yes, and it's giving me a headache.”

“Come here Kitty,” Piotr spoke up, “I will get you an aspirin.”

I nodded my head in thanks, and began to make my way over to him. He was somewhere on my left, and I was confident that I could make it on my own. Others did not share that thought.

“Here, let me help you.” The male I did not know was on his back a second later, trying to get his breath back.

“I am blind.” I told him sternly, shaking my fist for good measure. “I am not helpless. If I ask for help, give it then, and only then.” I had a sudden thought. “Did anyone see my cane?”

“Naw kid, that thing is long gone. Sorry.”

I shrugged. “I've got a spare at home. Several spares actually. I'll be fine until then.” I continued to make my way over the the giant, who handed my a small pill and a glass of water. I downed the medicine gratefully.

“Better?” he asked. I nodded, and thanked him verbally this time. “Think nothing of it.” he replied.

“Kitty?” another new voice, this one female. “May I examine you?”

“Person,” I replied, “No.”

“Kitty,” the Professor admonished, “Don't be rude.”

Well, that was the last straw. I blew.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” I asked quietly, dangerously. “Who do you think you are?! You show up in my home, force your way into my head, and expect me to just go along with what you say? Then, when I do slightly trust you I end up fighting for my life before being knocked out and shoved into a cage. All of a sudden, I am free, trying to save the lives of your students! Then, once I free Big Guy and Growly over there,” I threw my arm in his general direction, “I'm suddenly out again! And when I wake up, I am strapped to a table like some sort of lab experiment. Now, I've got two totally strangers groping at me, one wanting to basically carry me and the other to 'examine' me. I'm sorry if you think that I'm being rude, but a) it has been a very trying day, and b) I am not about to let someone I don't know look at me like a doctor, when I'm pretty sure she isn't one.” It took me a while, but I eventually ran out of breath.

“I am working on a degree in medicine Kitty, I assure you I am qualified.”

Poor, unsuspecting creature. “You're working on a degree? Really, that's lovely. I'm sure you're doing so well in that. Tell me, are all of your professors male, or do you just get other people to do your homework?”

“Excuse me, but I-” I cut her off. “Look, I'm sure you're nice and all, but I don't know you. Therefore, you aren't touching me. Besides, I'm fine.” It was all the apology she was going to get, and I hoped that she realized that.

“From zhe sound of it Kitty, you are not.” Kurt said gently. “Please just let Jean make sure there are no lasting effects from my sulfur or the chemicals.”

I sighed. “There's no point. My body will heal.”

“Kitty-” I held my hand up, stopping her inverbally this time.

“Does anybody have a knife?” My unexpected question shocked them, I could tell.

“Why do you need a knife Kitty?” Storm cautiously asked. From the way they were all slightly trembling, I could tell that they thought that I lost my mind.

“To prove to you all why I don't need a doctor.”

“Kitty-”

“PLEASE!”

Someone sighed, and the next thing I knew there was a small pocket knife in my right hand. “Logan!” the mystery woman shouted. “What?” he called back, “She ain't gonna let you see her, Jeanie, and she ain't gonna shut up either! So far, all people have done today is take from her. Might as well give her what she wants for once.” I smiled at him. Oh, God I hope I'm right. I would end up looking like a psycho if I wasn't. I flipped open the blade, and slashed it across my left wrist, shrieking slightly at the pain.

Dropping the knife, I fell to my knees clutching my wrist. Hands and voices were everywhere, pushing and pulling at me, but I didn't respond. I was fully focused on the feel of my skin beneath my fingers and the blood running through them.

Thankfully, I had been right when I remembered that fluke accident where I broke my leg and it was fine minutes later. My skin was literally knitting itself back together under my fingers, the blood stopping. By the time it was done, I couldn't even feel a scar.

“There,” I said breathlessly, shoving them all off of me and standing up, brandishing my wrist. Sure, it was covered with blood, but they could probably see that there was no cut.

“You have a healing factor?” the woman, Jeanie, asked incredulously.

“I have no idea what that means,” I told her, “But I can heal myself, yes.”

“Healing and walking through objects? Professor,” the man I did not know exclaimed, “She's incredible!”

“Indeed she is Scott,” Xavier replied, “Which is why I want to make you an offer Kitty.”

“And just what offer is that?” I asked.

“A place in my school, and a position on my team. Tell me Kitty, would you like to become an X-Man?”

My unseeing eyes stared in his direction. An X-Man? Me? Sure, it had been mentioned several times, but with everything going on I never really had the chance to think about it. What did I know?

I knew I was a mutant, and apparently I was powerful. I knew that a lot of people wanted me. Frost wanted me for my abilities. The Professor, for all his faults and patronization, seemed to genuinely want to help me figure this out. They all did.

I wasn't sure that I wanted to leave though. As much as I griped about it, I love my parents and my home. My school, dance class, it was all familiar. I could navigate it without even thinking. And this school was in New York. I'd be on the other side of the country. I'd never been more than 20 miles from my parents for more than a few hours. This would be beyond stepping outside of my comfort zone.

But in all honesty, what did Deerfield hold for me? There was no one there who could help me figure this whole thing out. My mom and dad hated my eyes, how would they react if they found out what else I could do? These people, even though they drove me crazy, seemed to be the only ones who maybe knew what I was going through, and wanted me for something more than my powers. In all honesty, what did I have to lose?

“Where do I sign?” I asked.