Laura Kinney-Howlett

Remy put his hands up in mock defense. “As you wish, Cher.” He glanced at her page and frowned. It hardly seemed difficult, although those were often the hardest to get through weren’t they? One simple solution that you just couldn’t see and no way around it. “I don’ t’ink I’ve ever been much good at math.” He said, taking up the pencil she’d abandoned. “’Specially when there ain’ any dollar signs in front’a the numbers. ‘Cus if we’re bein’ honest, that’s what math’s really for.” He’d began rewriting the problem into three different ones for each variable and then pointed to the X. “Get ride of all the other numbers ‘till its jus’ this X.”

Laura squints at the teacher as he explains to her, wondering exactly why he was doing it. He wasn’t her teacher, and as far as she knew he didn’t teach math. Why the special interest in her? She couldn’t help but be suspicious whenever someone seemed to care without having good reason to. Last time she didn’t question it... It didn’t end well for the people taking care of her. She pushes the memory to the back of her mind the moment it bubbles up. And it bubbles up in her throat, in the way it makes her claws itch. Blood in her mouth and blood on the soles of her feet. She blinks hard and diverts her attention to the x he’s pointing at rather than staring at him blankly, lost and chasing a memory she’d rather have ripped from her brain. Her father was lucky. “It’s stupid, does solving for x make the world stop hating us?”

Logan had passed out in the institutes library as he had gotten locked out of his room once again. So far he had been undisturbed, as he chose a table way in the back that no one had sat at yet. He was startled awake by Laura’s comment on a killing degree, “If you want that kid, you gotta find a professor of death studies, and old baldy don’t hand them kinda certificates out, take my word for it”. Xavier had scolded Logans crass way about things for years but despite his violence, never kicked him out for good.

Originally posted by imagines-everywhere

He scuffled from under the table, grabbing a chair beside her, and ducks his head slightly down in an attempt to hide from the bright lights of the stacks. “What the hell they got you working on anyway bub? Being my kin you kicking ass should come natural, and i never needed anything else” he commented with a gruff manor.

He was the last person she wanted to talk to. They hadn’t quite mended bridges, but would they ever, and she’d been avoiding him as well as possible. Of course she hadn’t even noticed he was here when she came in. Too distracted by this... bullshit. Laura does her best not to find amusement in what he says, pursing her lips. It was hard to remain mad at him when it felt like he was the only one who understood what she was going through. 

The question caught Remy’s ear. A soft smile crossed his face as he looked to see who’d said it. He hadn’t had Laura in any of his classes but he doubted any of the teachers didn’t know of the little wolverine. He’d have guessed the students could recognize her just as easily. “I doubt it’d be very useful.” He said solemnly. “Da markets flooded wit’ killin’ degrees. Hardly any work for less than a masters. Den all the companies have their own method an’ you gotta learn it all over.”

“Whatcha workin’ on dats got ya willin’ ta cut someone up, petit?” He asked and took the chair beside her. He was more interested in catching her eye than nosing in on whatever she was working on. 

Laura didn’t really know the teacher who sat beside her, but he had a point. Or maybe she was just listening because she didn’t want to do the work that was laid out in front of her. She squints some more at the equations on her paper before tossing her pencil down into her notebook. “Don’t call me that,” she says abruptly before looking at him. “Math. What the fuck do I need math for? And why are there letters in it?” 

As if he appeared out of thin air, Wade’s head popped up from under the table opposite of where Laura sat. He blinked five times, in a rare without his mask moment, and cocked his head to the side. “You technically… could? If you do some kind of criminal justice bullshit right?” Now, Wade wasn’t going to pretend he understood math, but he made it through life someone hitting most of his targets from the weirdest angles. That was all mathematics right?

“What is it? Why don’t you ask for help?” It’s a stupid question really, considering he knew her… father? “Don’tstabmeokay. Just ask Scott, he’s more than miserable these days, maybe it’ll get his mind off… things.” It disappointed him. He stood behind that relationship, he thought Jean and Scott were good together. Especially because she’d finally started eating and looking healthy right before… the end? Wade didn’t like it, but it was what it was. Same with his relationship with Anna.

Laura just stares at him as he rants, wanting nothing more than to scratch his throat out. It’d only grow back though so what was the point of that? Wade had a point, a valid one though she’d never want to admit it. She could ask for help, it wasn’t like she was going it alone anymore. At least she only was out of choice by this point. She grumbles, scratching some nonsensical shit down on her homework. Didn’t she get points for completion at least?

“What’s bothering golden boy then, huh? I thought his optimism was chronic,” she mutters as she presses down so hard she breaks the tip of her pencil. She leans back in her chair, her claws unveiling with their signature sound, and begins to sharpen it. “Did he find out his favorite Backstreet Boys album isn’t on vinyl or maybe he can’t find his favorite kombucha anywhere?”

She scratches the back of her neck anxiously as she peers down at the scribble of numbers and symbols that she’d taken down for notes. “Fuck...” she mutters to herself and slumps back. “Can’t I just get a degree in killing people?” 

“Whats baldies problem now a days? he finally realize rogaine won’t do the trick?” he said through his cigar. The hallways of the mansion felt all too familiar, though only through scent could he pull any real memories out of his brain anymore, everything was always so foggy and hard to grasp in his mind.

He almost had goose bumps when they arrived at his room, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept in a real bed. He flicked his cigar stub into the copper tin located beside the desk in his room. He tossed his coat off and paused a moment, “Listen Laura….” he paused, not sure if now was the time to attempt an apology for all she’s been through because he left her, or whether she would even want to dredge any of it up.

“His little girl ran away,” she says plainly, though with a little distaste. Laura was under the impression that Jean Grey was more than spoiled rotten. Charles loved her, he doted on her. She didn’t know how good she had it. “With an older man, bit of scandal in your absence.” She stands in his doorway, not wanting to step into the room. It was already too much, him actually being here. She has to force herself to look at him.

His shitty attempt at reconcile makes her huff a laugh, why even bother? Nothing could make up for the time lost and for what she’d been through because he assumed he knew best. “Don’t worry Logan,” she says tightly, straightening up. “I wouldn’t be here if I was hung up on every single way that you make a lackluster father.” 

Logan hops to his feet, instantly recognizing two things, he somehow ended up back and the mansion, and was being greeted by Laura. He could smell two distinct things on her, anger, and a newer smell of adamantium that wasn’t there when he left her with the Old Johnson couple.

He dusts himself off and trailing behind her asks, “Taking lots of iron supplements these days Laura? or did you get duped into a special ‘Mud bath’ and come out a lbs heavier like me?” he felt a slight pain of regret, maybe if he was around, should wouldn’t have to go through the same hell he did getting that metal grafted to every bone in her body. He pockets a cigar from his jacket and sparks it up, continuing to trail behind disappointed daughter. Wondering what other reunions lie past those doors to the mansion.

Laura’s lip curls but she holds back a growl. It made her feel too much like him, and she didn’t want to be like him. Once upon a time she had, but that was before she realized all he left behind was a trail of bodies and disappointment. She pointedly ignores his question, didn’t feel the need to answer it when he already knew. The smell of adamantium was hard to miss once you caught its scent. 

Head hazy from too much bourbon, Logan awakes to some hipster uber driver screaming at him, “You hear me? get the hell out, we’re here!” the driver proceeds to drag Logan out of his prius and onto a gravel driveway and speeds off. Logan indifferent to what just happened, finds a comfy bush and passes out, to sleep off his bender.

When he finally comes to, the sun is burning his eyes and he feels a foot kicking him, he sits up to confirm his whereabouts and take in the scenery he’s awoken to.

Laura had smelled him the night before but she was content to leave him outside overnight. After all she’d been here waiting for him for months now, and before that she’d been waiting years. Her arms are crossed, and she refuses to look directly at him. Instead she gazes out at the road he’d drunkenly stumbled across last night. She knows he’ll recognize her despite the decade that’d passed. 

“Get up, you smell and look like shit and you’re scaring the kids.” They weren’t so much as scared as entertained by the spectacle, but Laura didn’t actually give a damn. She’d contemplated not even coming out here in the first place but despite their distance she felt responsible for him. “Let’s go.” She turns, beginning to walk up the driveway without waiting for him.