1974
"What the hell happened to her?" Hank asked Charles, while he carried an unconscious Layla in his arms.
Hank slammed the door shut with his foot, following Charles into the living room.
"I don't know, but you and I have the same question." Charles replied sounding worried. "Here," He pointed to the brown leather couch by the fireplace. "Set her down on the couch, and run to the lab and get bandages and antiseptic."
Hank ran to the lab, and didn't waste any time at all. He was back within seconds carrying his first-aid kit, and antiseptic. He set the kit on the wooden coffee table next to the couch, and crouched down in front of Layla.
"I didn't realize how strong she was." Hank told Charles as he took off Layla's leather jacket. "She destroyed the front yard, and almost tore down the front entrance of the house."
"You and I both. Back when I first met her, the serum was beginning to fade on me, and I was able to sense a bit of her power." Charles replied calmly with his hands folded across his lap, while sitting in his wheelchair.
"And now?" Hank asked quizzically.
"She's strong, Hank, and I don't even think she's aware of just how powerful she is. There is so much more to her, than she realizes. But she's..." Charles frowned, keeping his eyes on Layla.
"What?" Hank asked.
"She's conflicted. She's hurt. I saw it, before, and I can sense it now. I don't know why, though." Charles said drawing his brows together.
"Have you tried looking in her mind to find out why she came here, or what happened to her?" Hank asked.
"No," Charles said in a stern tone. "I'm not going to look inside her mind. If she wants to tell us what happened, she will. She's not here to hurt us, she destroyed the outside, but she came here for a reason. And we won't know anything, until she wakes up."
Hank nodded and turned his attention back to Layla. She had blood stained all over her hands, and he carefully wiped it away, while checking for open wounds. Hank threw the blood stained cloth in the trash next to him, and moved on to her other hand. She had no open wounds on the hand he had just cleaned. It confused Hank, but he moved on to the other hand assuming, the wounds were there. After he wiped all the blood, he was faced with the same problem. There were no wounds on her other hand, even though, her hand had been stained with blood. Hank disposed of the bloody cloth, narrowing his eyes at her in question. He noticed her cheek facing him was bloody, and he cleaned that up. Only to find there were no open wounds there, either.
"This...doesn't make any sense?" Hank said out loud, while he disposed of another bloody cloth. He placed both his hands on his knees, and turned to Charles.
"What?" Charles asked scooting his wheelchair closer to Layla.
"She had blood stained all over hands, and a bit on her face, but there were no wounds. With that much blood, it's obvious she was wounded, but nothing is there." Hank scratched the back of his head puzzled.
Charles look closer at Layla, noticing the small tears in her shirt, and leather jacket. Something had happened to her, that much was true, but she showed no signs of injury. Charles rubbed his jaw, trying to remember what she had told them about her powers when they first met. They had all been in Peter's basement when she told them.
"Wait? Didn't she say she could heal?" Charles asked Hank for reassurance.
"Yeah, that's right. She did. She has telepathy, telekinesis, and she can heal?" Hank asked in amazement.
YOU ARE READING
Layla
FanfictionLayla Pierce has been anything but normal, and ever since the tragic accident with her family, she has made sure to stay in the background. That is until a man named Charles Xavier and his group mysteriously find her, and ask for her help to aid the...