Playing With Fire (EDITING)

Torture

When I regained awareness of my surroundings, I grimaced. I was way too warm but that wasn't the worst of it. The room smelled like old wool and cedar that brought back a host of memories of being locked in a trunk at the circus for accidentally forgetting the safety net for a trapeze act. I gagged on the smell and peeked my eyes open to see where I was.

I was lying on a couch covered up to my shoulders in three fleece blankets. I propped myself up against the arm of the couch behind me and threw off the top blanket, feeling relieved when some of the heat left as well. A voice to my left mumbled, "You're awake. Good."

"Professor," I replied, as he wheeled himself into view. "How did I get here?"

He searched my expression with his eyes and I prepared myself to fight the mental fuzziness brought on whenever he attempted to penetrate my mind. When I was satisfied that he wasn't going to read my jumbled thoughts, I allowed myself to relax somewhat.

After a minute or two of silence, Professor Xavier answered, "I believe you have Mr. Wagner to thank for bringing you here. He said you passed out in the kitchen."

I averted my eyes to the blankets covering my legs and shaking hands.

"Lyrica," he said, causing me to meet his eyes again. "You have nothing to be worried about." He paused before continuing. "But this isn't the first time this has happened."

I hesitated before shaking my head.

"How many others have there been?"

"Enough."

He seemed to understand but I knew he wasn't satisfied with my answer. A split second after I realized what was coming, my mind fogged over and my body felt numb. A much more powerful force than I'd ever experienced from Prof before snaked its way through my memories and took account of every vertigo attack I'd ever suffered, from the very first attack when I was little to the most recent in the kitchen. In doing so, he picked his way through some more personal memories; including my time in the circus, the fire that destroyed the field, the alterations performed by the scientist, my parents and Grandpére training me, receiving my locket for my birthday. When he had finished smoothly extracting each detail, the paralyzing force receded until I was aware of sitting on the couch once more.

"I apologize but I knew asking questions would have gotten us nowhere," he said, wheeling a foot closer.

I stiffened and gripped a handful of the blanket to still my trembling fingers. "All you had to do was ask; I would have answered."

"But would you have answered honestly? Without having to dodge each other's comments and circulatory remarks?"

He had a point. I would never have been upfront. And I most likely would never have told him the truth.

Professor Xavier bent forward in his wheelchair before turning to see the source of a small commotion outside. I prepared to stand, but the look in his eyes as he watched me made me rethink. "Stay," he commanded. The tone he used clearly told me he was dead serious; I sank back onto the couch but did my best to watch what Prof was doing.

He wheeled himself over to the door and opened it, sitting back in surprise. Kurt, Megan, Kitty, and Doug stumbled into the room followed by a very miffed Warren. He blew a clump of blond hair from his face and pushed past my friends, heading for the couch. When he saw me, he looked surprised before the surprise was replaced by confusion.

"Whatcha doing here, kid?" he asked.

"Don't ask me. If it were my choice, I'd be gone by now," I replied.

He huffed in amusement and looked me over head to foot. "You were the one that passed out in the other building?"

"Word got around that fast huh?"