「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(155) Peter Rasputin

Lynn's POV

Gathering the girls, we briefly suited up considering the weather of our destination. As the aircraft stabilized with Storm piloting, Jean began to browse through the information we had been given by Hank.

"Pi- Pio- Uh, forget it. Peter Rasputin... Lake Baikal, Siberia..." Jean rambled, skimming the document.

"Adolescent who transformed into complete metal while saving his sister from a runaway tractor?!" She exclaimed in excitement, her loud and high-pitched voice hurting the mild migraine developing in my head.

"Sounds impressive," Storm concurred. "What do you think, Lynn?" She prompted but the headache, ambiguously caused by either Charles' or my own exhaustion, was retarding my ability to actually engage in their conversation.

"Lynn, are you alright? Do you need something to stop that?" Jean offered as she turned back to me, noticing my hand that was rubbing my throbbing temples.

I nodded and she swiftly unbuckled her seatbelt, heading to our compartment of medical supplies.

"Here," she whispered, handing me two tablets of paracetamol and a bottle of water as she crouched by my seat in the back row.

I dunked the pills into my mouth and gulped down the water, flushing them down my throat. Exhaling deeply, I squeezed my eyes shut and reclined back, feeling Jean's thumbs massaging the irritated sites on my head.

"Why don't you take a nap and we'll call you when we arrive?" Storm suggested and the surrounding lights dimmed as she presumably tinted our window shades.

"Thank you, girls," I breathed weakly and unknowingly fell asleep until we touched down on Soviet soil.

"Lynn, we're here," Jean's gentle voice was registered as I awakened groggily in our stationary transportation.

"Do you want to stay here instead? You look tired," Storm noted as I fluttered my eyes open.

"It's alright. I'm much better now," I asserted, smiling genuinely now that the annoying ache had vanished.

"I'll man the plane, then. Be careful," Storm urged.

Jean and I disembarked, slowly weaving through the large plot of specific agriculture that could grow in this cold and after passing by several of its almost identical counterparts in the vicinity, we eventually located a standalone house with engravings on its gate that matched the Russian writing of 'Rasputin' thoughtfully provided by Hank. Jean carefully pushed open the metallic fencing with her hands but it creaked like a screeching sedan on full brakes, attracting the hostile glares of the neighbouring residents.

Strutting down the footpath leading up to the door, Jean led the way as I trailed along, scrutinizing the farming equipment in the front yard that appeared rather well-maintained, contrasting the ones in the adjacent home which simply paled in comparison in terms of their physical condition with one of the machineries looking somewhat smashed.

"Lynn!" Jean called out and I turned around to find the door of the shack already ajar as Jean beckoned me to enter.

Quickening my pace, I caught up and we were escorted into the modestly decorated dwelling by a tall muscular male. He invited us to sit on the couch in the heated but empty living room and hurriedly disappeared, coming back with a couple of teas.

"Dr. Grey, Professor Lynn," he greeted fluently, surprisingly without much accent, and I flashed Jean a glare to which she returned a sheepish smile for introducing my full salutation.

"Just Lynn," I insisted, smiling cordially at the teen looked slightly shocked by my words as I received the cup of warm beverage.

"Yes, Peter. Our students call her Lynn as well," Jean affirmed and the boy's baffled expression eased moderately as he took a seat on the armchair to her right.