The light squeezed through her eyelids, creating a screen of red across her eyes from beneath the lowered lashes. Her head began to throb as her limbs twitched painfully, the pins-and-needles sensation humming through each appendage like a wall of nails. Whimpering, she turned her aching head on the pillow, trying to tongue the roof of her mouth, but finding it hard to do when her mouth was so dry.

Good god, what was wrong with her? She forced her eyes open a crack, but her lids seemed to be pasted together or something, because her eyes were so heavy. She felt drugged, plain and simple. When she finally managed to open her eyes more than a crack, she regretted doing so, for the light, dim or bright, seemed way too blinding for eyes that had been shut for at least a month. Not that she knew it had been that long………………………………………. As a matter of fact…… She did not know where the hell she was, or how she got there!

It was at that point that she would have bolted up out of the bed, but she felt too ill to do so. Sighing, she instead lifted a weak hand to place it on her brow, confused as to what was going on. It was all so much, she thought, deep breaths rasping in and out of her as disorientation continued to cloud her thoughts and actions. She closed her eyes against the spinning of the room, gulping in the air like it was water.

Mmm, water… She needed water, she thought, as her eyeballs moved underneath the flaps of her lids. Yes, water sounded good, it was as if she hadn’t tasted the sweet tasgte of water in a year. But, again, she had no notion of date or time, she did not know that winter was turning into spring, or that she had been in a bed for more than a month. She did not remember that she had been napped and then brought to this place by a teenaged boy, or that she had poisoned a girl in her haste to run away from the people who had saved her.

I am in strange bed, Xavia thought, where am I? Ugh, head hurts. Bed not important, I rest now. Water, somebody please bring water, she continued, in her head.

--- The room smells of roses, of course.

"Another healer?" DocProf's eyes were closed in concentration as his hands pressed against Ghost's abdomen. She nodded even though the motion was useless with the older man's eyes closed. "His name was--is Sebastian and he is the healer at the Sanctuary. No wonder we beat them down and they get right back up." Ghost sighed. Not that she ever enjoyed any beat downs. Especially confrontations that involved the tricky Sancturay residents, those were some of the worst. They were so adamant about... everything.

"I think he said the bullet is still in the--" DocProf put a hand to Ghost's lips.

"A tattoo?" his eyes opened to scrutinize Ghost's face. Of course he couldn't see the circumstances that predicated the tattoo, but it was a mar on her body either way. Ghost actually ducked a bit under the healer's searching gaze. "Not exactly my choice... Hawaii Mission." That had kind of be embarrassing because it had been her fault and Sam still blamed himself. "Could you heal that?" Ah, but the good doctor seemed suddenly very interested in a curtained off area.

A muffled almost mewl came from the bed behind the curtain. Was there a wounded animal back there? It wouldn't be the first time DocProf had attended to the four-legged friends of the Mansion.

"Does it suddenly smell like" "roses." DocProf finished Ghost's sentence before pulling back the curtain to see that Dryad had woken. He was an efficient blur of hands and tests. Was this IV properly draining? Vitals?

Ghost leaned over to get a better view of the person laying in bed. Man, Ghost thought she had a rough few months with getting shot and tattooed and brainwashed, but... at least she wasn't bed ridden. "Hi..." She waved a bit timidly to teh girl she'd never met before. Man, so many new faces. Would she ever meet all the residents?

Alexandra tightened her fist, her eyes blinking faster than normal trying to push the nausea away from her. Not a very good idea, as a sharp pain shot trough her hand. She forced herself to check on her wound and took a deep breath. Opening her palm, she almost wanted to faint at the sight of blood and the large slash on the inside of her palm. She closed her eyes for a second, as blood continued to flow from it.

It was strange how an assassin was afraid of seeing blood. But she didn’t have a problem seeing other person’s blood. She just had a problem seeing herself hurt. Sighing, she continued her way trough the hallways of the Mansion, trying to get to the Infirmary. Her face was pale white and seeing the wound again made her vision to be spotted with black dots. Well, no Sam hero to catch her so she needed to get to the DocProf on her own.

She could almost laugh on how she got the wound. Her final conclusion was that breakfast was the most dangerous enemy out there. Because she got that kind of wound attacking a plate of eggs, bacon and toast. Alexandra sighed, she was losing her mind and she didn’t understand how she had allowed that to happen. She was letting herself to be stressed out. Her sister going at the Sanctuary was the worst of her problems right now. Hell, it made her fall asleep in the kitchen and dreaming of being attacked by flying tortillas. Well, mansion residents had something more to talk about now after she yelled at the top of her lungs for Shin to duck the flying tortillas. And after she attacked the breakfast he made for her. She felt bad for doing this but it wasn’t of her own choice.

Oh come on Alex, she said to herself. Why was she caring about how an X-Men felt? Taking another deep breath she closed her fist again, dripping blood on the carpet wasn’t such a good idea. She was glad she didn’t faint in the kitchen after seeing her wound while trying to clean up the mess she had done. Just a few steps, Alexandra encouraged herself when seeing the infirmary closing on her. She almost let out a relieved breath when she pushed the door open.

A powerful smell hit her. Sniffing, she recognized as being roses. For a moment, she forgot the iron smell of her own blood and let herself be drawn by the nice smell. There were three people in the infirmary. Two girls and one man. None of which she knew personally, but from descriptions, the man seemed to be the doc prof she had been looking for. Hiding her hand behind her back, she approached the trio. “Hi.” she said, a polite smile on her face.

Roses? But it always smelled like roses wherever she was. They were talking about the smell she gave off!

Xavia could hear the voices echoing through her ears, soft, and distant around her. She could feel the warm touch of the Doc-Prof as he began to examine her, and she sighed, dropping her arm and rolling her head on the pillow. Her mouth worked to form words, but a croak issued instead.

“Now don’t try to speak, young lady,” she heard the male voice… young lady, young lady, young lady, young lady….

She then heard the sound of a girl or woman entering into the scene, “Hihihihi.”

Another whimper escaped her as the man’s hand stilled on her wrist and he turned to greet the other, and then she felt him leave completely to go and aid the one who just showed up.

Xavia opened her eyes completely now, and turned her head to try and focus on the blurred figures of the three others. “Mmmf…” She blinked in rapid succession until, at last, the blurs took shapes. She was in the hospital? Or something like it, she thought… Her gaze settled on the girl who brought up the topic of the smell, could see her looking timidly toward herself, and she tried to sit up.

The room began to spin, and she plopped back down, “Th-thirsty…” Her accent, in her grogginess, was thick with Hungarian twang, pale lips trembling as she forced the one word out. One word was more than enough to cause her to cringe, her throat raw, her tongue swollen and dry…

As she was waking up, so was her dormant mutation… Now, because she had an iv stuck in her arm, she wasn’t dehydrated, so there was no turning brown for the woman. However, her lack of control over her mutation was evident when random smells started to override the scent prior, like blossoms in spring, ragweed, various flora that inhabited Michigan, perhaps. It was like someone who had hiccups and couldn’t get rid of them.

She whimpered with each change, because she could feel her skin crawling with roots, and this time she was helpless to stop anything from happening. Her skin seemed to visibly bulge and ripple, as if worms were crawling just beneath. It was clearly painful for Xavia, who started to weakly claw at herself, to pull away the flora that sprouted from her skin. Soon, various leaves and debris littered the bed and floor around her.

Sitting uncomfortably on the examination table, Ghost watched as DocProf went to attend to someone who was actually bleeding. Ghost dipped her head in silent greeting to yet another Mansion resident she had never met and felt guilty. Ah- maybe she could come back for her consultation at another time? She could get her bullet cut out any day assuming there weren't this many emergencies all the time... which come to think of it, there hardly seemed a dull moment in the infirmary here.

Ghost sliiiiid her booty off the paper liner and planted her feet firmly on the ground again. She had to pass closer to the gurney and the girl, who seemed clearly uncomfortable, struggled to say something. Never one to deny someone aid, Ghost leaned in to hear her sickly request for water. She tried not to cringe at the rose girl who sounded so sickly, and instead focused on getting water from the sink several paces away.

When she turned around, the girl was pulling all kinds of sprouts from her... skin? Ghost rushed over and slid her hand behind the girl's head. "Doc?" But he seemed lost in the healing process. It would take him a few moments to extricate himself no matter how much panic colored Ghost's words.

She was careful. Careful to pour only little bits of water at a manageable pace and careful not to freak out if some kind of tendril of something touched her, wrapped around her wrist... or moved under the girl's skin? Holy cow, this was one sick plant girl! "Y-you're going to be okay." Ghost tried to calm her down. Panic never helped Ghost control her mutation, and this definitely looked and felt like a lack of control. "Try to breathe normal. What can I do to help?"

Her eyes moved to the young girl in the bed, as she seemed to wake up from what it seemed a coma. Alexandra couldn’t say that she didn’t know how that felt, the confusion, the panic. With a sigh her glance shifted to the doc prof who made his way to her. “What happened to you?” he asked in a kind tone, the one Alexandra actually expected from this man. Retrieving her hand from behind her back, she opened her palm for the doc prof to see her wound. His eyebrow rose and Alexandra let out a nervous laugh. “I was attacked.” she said taking a deep a breath. By a plate of fried eggs, bacon and toast.” she continued knowing just how crazy that would sound. But it was the truth, none the less. The doc prof looked confused for a moment then let out a short laugh. “Happens every day.” he said as he took her hand.

His touch was soothing, the pain just being washed away with every second that passed. She could almost feel the slash closing. Since looking at her blood wasn’t such a good idea, Alexandra decided to look at the other two girls. She swallowed as she accidentally saw her wound but quickly pushed the image away. Her gaze focused on the girl in the bed. She clearly wasn’t feeling okay. The smells in the room began to change as the girl was speaking. Alexandra figured out that her mutation had something to do with plants. She was damn happy that her powers didn’t go haywire when she woke up from her coma.

As the doc prof concentrated on healing her, Alexandra frowned. The other girl was trying to help but it seemed like the plant girl was losing it. Badly. Her skin began to bulge and ripple, things that seemed pretty painful. “Doc, you should go to her.” she said as she pulled her hand away. Without even deciding it, she moved toward the bed, her hand finding the way behind her back again. She used her other hand to place it on the girl’s forehead. “Shhh. Focus. The panic will fade away soon.” she said, hoping that her voice would help the girl to focus on something. “You’re safe here.” she continued. Then, she blinked. Why was she doing this?

Nobody had ever come to comfort her when she couldn’t control what her body did, not her mother, not her father, nobody. It was as if they were afraid of what may happen to them if they simply told her that it would be alright, and that she was safe. As people came over to try and help her, she knew a moment of confusion… Why? Why were they there, touching her and trying to help her, when she was a complete stranger to them, and perhaps dangerous?

When the first one talked to her, telling her to breathe normally, she tried to obey, and took in gulps of air, closing her eyes tightly and trying to relax. Somebody in her position would probably start to cry about then, but not her, she was actually trying not to panic. Despite her efforts to breath, the plants still grew from her skin, ivy seemed to sprout into the tube that connected her to the bag. She closed her eyes and tried to will it to stop, tried to shut down the part of her brain that told the plants to grow.

It was, indeed, a painful experience. Sweat poured down her face as the roots burned their way through her, her breaths rasping in and out. Xavia closed her eyes tightly and tried to will it to stop again. For the first time since becoming what she was, she was able to stop the plant growth with a grinding halt. It was the first time she could control her mutation when she was under stress, which was a huge step for her.

She could hear the voice of the second girl, telling her she was safe where she was at. The plant girl opened her eyes to see the people who came to help and comfort her, and she smiled weakly, looking down to see the plants wither and fall off on their own. The smell around her shifted back to the original scent of roses.

The Doc-Prof came, of course, to help, and seemed, at least in her opinion, to be fascinated by the events. But he wasn’t shocked enough, most likely, to not do anything. He was checking her vitals and went to remove the contaminated IV tube, and taking the glass of water from ghost to press to Xavia’s lips.

She drank thirstily of the cool water. What was very odd was that she seemed to perk up in color, going from pale to almost healthy with the simple act of drinking the water that Ghost had brought for her, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. It was as if she was a plant in her entirety.

What an odd, odd girl she was.

When she was through with the glass of water, she was able to speak more clearly, though her voice was faint because she was timid in nature, “I thank you.” She looked to each of the girls and the Doc-Prof and relaxed back against the pillow. They obviously hadn’t run away from her mutations, so perhaps there were some good people out there that weren’t going to call her a freak for something she couldn’t help having.

Ghost fanned a soft breeze over the group making it as easy as possible for the girl to breathe. She gladly handed the cup of water over to the healer when he approached and helped steady the girl's neck as the elderly man suggested. It was... miraculous. After a bit of encouragement from the other girl in the room, the plant manipulator halted the fast changing scents and fast climbing vines. An increase in the breeze helped blow the evidence of struggle away before Ghost carefully extracted herself from the plant-girl's hair.

It wasn't embarrassing, not exactly. More on the awkward side.

DocProf went to figure out the IV situation, something had started growing there and it probably had to come out anyway. That left Ghost on one side of the bed and the third stranger at the other side of the bed. "You have some gift there." She tried not to think of the too-fast moving vines and failed. It wasn't normal, but then again what mutation was? "I'm Ghost, an air manipulator."

"And you..." Ghost raised her eyes to Circe, eager to make another stranger into a friend. "I think I met you, or at least saw you around once, but I can't remember your name. Sorry!" Ghost tugged at her white hair trying to place where she had seen the face. "Ah. Video camera?" Ghost held up her hands mimicking the movements associated with holding and operating a small camcorder. She nodded to herself. That had to be it. Movie night with Shin. At least she wasn't a total stranger.

Pleased with her small triumph, Ghost returned to the matter at hand: Dryad. "You look much better already. Do you need sunlight or something as well?" Long fingers scratched at the back of Ghost's head, a bit embarrassed to be so unknowledgeable. "Every mutation is different, I-uh- figured it was better to ask." A small shrug accompanied her words. "Do you have a room or a change of clothes? We can get those things too if you need."

Strangely enough, the girl seemed to calm down after Alexandra had spoken. Moments passed in fast forward for the molecule manipulator, for a few seconds being unaware of what was happening around her. The question ‘why’ was still fresh in her mind and it took her a great amount of focus to gather herself back. Blinking, she saw the doc prof checking the girl on the bed and decided to go and wash her hands. It would get rid of the awful sight of blood on her hand and hopefully, it would help her concentrate. As she made her way to the sink, she heard the other girl in the room talking with her and introducing herself as Ghost. Alexandra vaguely remembered her from the movie night Shin had. “Yep, camera. I am Alexandra, molecule manipulator.” she said as she turned on the water, her head turned into the white-haired girl’s direction, the same polite smile as before on her lips.

Alexandra gulped down and forced herself to look at her hand. The swirls of blood in the sink, her blood, gave her the nausea feeling again. Turning her hand she noticed that the wound was almost healed, the blood in the sink was the one that was on her hand before the healing process began. As she washed herself, she watched with the corner of her eye the other persons inside the room and listened to Ghost questions.

Turning off the water, she took a paper towel and wiped her hands then disposed of the used material. Her frame moved next to bed again. “Let’s take it easy.” she said to Ghost with a wink. Her eyes turned to the other girl. “Do you experience any kind of amnesia? You remember your name or know where you are? In case you don’t this is the Xavier Institute. Like I said, safe.” A comforting smile appeared on her face. Well, she would have liked to be treated like this when she woke up from her coma. Instead, she had to deal with everything on her own, just like she always did. And the slate-faced boss too.

There was a soft breeze wafting around her. Inside. Inside? How could that be? But then the person who was causing it fessed up to being an air manipulator. She was surrounded by people who had some sort of gift and that bothered her or a brief moment before she reminded herself that she, herself, was odd.

Knowing a moment of confusion, she tried, again, to sit up. This time, she was able to gain purchase, and sat upright while the two others were talking to her. First Ghost, and then Alexandra. Her lips thinned in concentration as she sought to listen to the conversation at hand.

“Some gift? More like curse,” she said to the one who spoke of her gift. Indeed, ever since she had been given the power to manipulate plant life, her life had been turned upside down and inside out. It was of little comfort to know that there were others like her. Indeed, people called her freak and berated her for what she couldn’t help or understand.

She addressed the next person, who was talking about amnesia, and her brow knit in further confusion. “I am Xavia (Sah-Vee-Ah), but I do not know this place. Institute for what?”

Then she turned her head back to ghost, feeling overwhelmed by the conversation. She bit into her full, lower lip, and blinked a few times, trying to form a sentence in her mind in reply to the sunlight issue. Yes, she thought, sunlight. “Sun is good, yes. I like sun.” She smiled the smile of a child, the plant part of her seeming eager to reach toward the life giving rays of the sun.

So much was happening so fast.

"Oh please don't say it is a curse. In time I am sure you will know it as a blessing." Ghost tried to remain encouraging to the plant girl even if she was currently discouraged.

Well, if the sun was good, the sun was what Xavia would get. Ghost made her way to the curtains that had previously encircled Xavia's bed closing it off from the rest of the room. Ghost first worked to tuck those back and next went for the curtains that shielded the room from direct sunlight from the outside. It was a small window and they might have to move the plant girls bed into the rays, but at least the sun came through from that direction.

Ghost stepped out of the way of the golden beams of light and was pleased to see that they settled over the approximate location of Xavia's legs underneath the bed sheet. "It is nice to meet you Xavia and you too Alexandra." Hands on hips, Ghost looked around before she remembered what else it was that she had thought to do to help the plant girl. Clothes. "Oh! I'll be right back with some clothes for you. Can't run around the mansion mooning everyone in your fashionable backless hospital gown can you?"

There was a closet of donated clothes that the Mansion kept stocked to give out to people who passed through and needed the help. Ghost had even accepted clothes from this closet when she first arrived at the Mansion with nothing. Returning with a loose tee shirt that sported a poorly spray painted rose tattoo on the front and a long green skirt, Ghost tossed the clothes at the end of the bed. The undies would be tucked away between the folds of the skirt. The skirt Ghost picked because... well, she really liked them and there was really no way to tell what size another person was especially when that person had been in a coma an was currently laying down. Yep. Skirts were always a safe bet.

Alexandra sighed when she heard the plant girl calling her mutation a curse. Most of the mutants she knew called their gift a curse in the beginnings. Some still did. A short moment of rage got trough her as she remembered calling her own mutation a curse because of her parents. Alexandra took a deep breath and forced her rage to become a comforting smile. “You know, most of us call the mutation we have a curse at some point. You need time to get used with it and consider it a natural part of your persona.” Her eyes scanned the young female in the bed trying to guess her age. She certainly didn’t look like a teenager. “Some need more time than others.” she added.

Alexandra watched Ghost as she pulled the drapes in order for Xavia, as the girl said she was named, to get her sunlight. “Nice to meet you as well.” her head slightly bowing in a polite manner. As Ghost rushed to get Xavia some clothes Alexandra proceeded to explain what Xavier Institute was. Mostly, the basic brochure info. That the Institute was a safe heaven for mutants, that she could get help with her mutation here and what Ghost had previously said about a room and everything she needed could be provided. Seriously, Alexandra couldn’t believe that she was now promoting the Xavier Institute. She mentally rolled her eyes and looked at the returning Ghost.

“So how did you get in here” Alexandra asked and gestured toward the infirmary bed. “That is, if you don’t mind telling us this.” Her eyes looked back to Ghost then a quick approving glance at her choice of clothes and finally looking for the doc prof who had suddenly disappeared. With a shrug, she turned to Xavia, waiting for the girl to say something.

When both of the women spoke, she looked between the two of them. One told her not to call it a curse, and the other was explaining how one would get used to it and that it would become a part of her in time. She did not reply, simply mused and mulled over what they were talking about, considering their words with an expression that bespoke of deep thought.

She watched as Ghost pulled the curtains aside, caramel gaze following her movement. When the woman stepped out of the sunlight, and it started to warm Xavia’s blanket, she eagerly reached long, tapered digits out to touch the warmth in the air, as a houseplant would do. Her fingers trembled, and she closed her eyes.

Sigh. “Thank you.”

Xavia opened her eyes as Ghost went on to speak of getting some clothes, and she was, again, struck by the kindness being shown to her. She was not used to it, and the cracked-in-the-head, plant lady was taken aback. So they were in the same boat as her? They had the same predicament that she had in that they had gifts?

Her lips compressed into a line as she lost herself in thought. She woolgathered the entire time that Ghost was away, up until Alexandra spoke that is. She was about to give a reply to the woman, when Ghost walked back in with the clothing, causing her to give pause.

First, to Alexandra, she said, “I don’t know how I got here.” Honesty was in her voice, which was sounding less accented the more she woke up. It seemed she would only speak very thickly when groggy. She went on, “I wake up here in this bed. Last I remember, I was home with Momma and Poppa, in green house. How did I get here?”

She had completely forgotten about Calley, Kat, and Seizure. It was as if they never existed. Nor did she remember that she had been kidnapped and put into the back of some van to be taken to a lab and studied by the man who made her what she was.

Once upon a time, she had been a normal person. She had been captain of the cheerleading team, and the apple of her dad’s eyes. She had been a spoiled child who lost everything when the experimental cells were put into her body. And then she became a mutant. She had everything, and then, with the blink of an eye, she had nothing but her parents’ love and fear.

It was the type of thing that her parents would not speak of, while sad eyes turned to gaze with pity at their eldest daughter. And now she didn’t even have them. She was all alone and in a strange place with unfamiliar faces and voices that she had never heard, and they, apparently, were just like her.

Xavia wanted to cry.

Swallowing a sob before it even came out, she stiffened and bit hard into her lip. No, no cry, she thought. You will NOT cry. These people were here! They did not know her, but they were being so kind. How could she think that she didn’t have anybody?

“Thank you for clothes,” she said softly, and sat up.

She then wrapped her blanket around her torso to avoid mooning the two women, and turned herself on her bed. Her bare feet made contact with the floor, and she was shakily standing.

Her breaths became heavy as she stood, sweat forming on her brow with the effort it took to do so. That being done, the woman, who was indeed older than a child, took a ffew tentative steps toward the window.

Once there, her head pressed to the glass, and she stared longingly outside, wanting more than anything to be in the greenhouse with her babies. As she stood there, she began to absently talk about what she did know, and that was who she was and where she came from.

“I live in Michigan… I work with my Poppa and Mamma, and my sisters in greenhouse.” She paused for a moment, then went on to amend, “Big greenhouse, with lot of flower and other plant. When may I go home?” Her voice sounded distant as she asked this. She wasn’t even sure she was able to go home. She just knew she was homesick and that she didn’t want to be where she was.

She turned to the other two and relied on the window for support, as she was still weak and shouldn’t have been out of bed. But she didn’t care, it seemed, because the situation warranted her needing any small comfort she could get in a turbulent time.

Xavia moved, then, toward Ghost, taking the clothes that were being offered, and asking tiredly, shoulders squared, “Where is powder room?”

Ghost felt a bit nervous as if she were witnessing something she shouldn't when Xavia spoke of what she remembered. Man, if Ghost had a family and a family business like that would she have ever wanted to leave them? Had circumstances been different would Ghost have hated what she was like Xavia seemed to? It was all very possible. Hopefully they could convince the girl that she would be okay and they could return her to her family.

Powder...? Ghost hesitated for a long moment before she realized what Xavia meant. "Oh! Uhh there is a restroom outside the infirmary, just to your left." Ghost took a few steps that way and motioned with her hand so that there would be no confusion.

Rather than stand there waiting, Ghost decided to disappear into DocProf's office to re-schedule her ... proceeders. One tattoo and one bullet removal, please. Though, if DocProf wasn't comfortable working around the other healer's work, she'd have to contact Sebastian at the Sanctuary about the little metal slug that sat somewhere below her ribs.

Alexandra shifted her weight from one leg to another as she watched Xavia speaking. Apparently the girl didn’t have any idea how she got to the Institute, so yeah, amnesia was probably involved. The girl was a confused and maybe scared, from what she was seeing and it wouldn’t have been surprised if she started crying. She prayed that she wouldn’t, Alexandra hated to deal with tears.

Xavia got up from the bed, the infirmary blanket wrapped up around her body and she went to the window, telling bits of what she remembered and her wish to go home. When Xavia turned around and spoke to Ghost asking for the powder room, Alexandra smiled sympathetically, uncomfortable with this whole situation.

Ghost disappeared after giving directions, leaving Xavia and Alexandra in what it seemed to be an uncomfortable silence. Alexandra cleared her throat as she looked at the plant mutant girl. “Uhmm, I’m sure you can go home soon enough.” she said after a few moments. “You should talk with the headmistress or someone in charge, I believe they can help you to return home.” she continued with a shrug and her feet began to move.

“Do you need my help with something? Cause if I’m no longer needed I think I should go back to doc prof to see if he can do something with this…” Alexandra raised up her injured hand where a pink, fresh scar was slashing her palm because of the incomplete healing process.