「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(271) The Good Guys

Lynn's POV

Despite Charles' inspiring speech, the kids were still reluctant to return to their respective rooms. They claimed to have taken for granted their dear friends, and have adorably insisted to cherish each other's company instead.

Fully comprehending their mature ideas and noting that all their ailments have been thus far well attended to, Charles graciously consented for them to loiter in the lobby together. Assigning Peter to resume his role as the chief caretaker, Charles cordially ordered a select few to assemble in the study.

Weaving through the maze of halls, we arrived with the exclusive group in the large hall walled with hard covers. The setting resembling a library was, however, but a facade and the learned space actually concealed a surgical arena.

Definitely, the original layout of the mansion was not planted with this secret feature when we first acquired it. However, Charles had wisely envisioned this lavish villa to not only serve as a splendid holiday chalet but a contingency safe house to which we could seek refuge in times of crises like these.

Mounted rigidly to the corner of the seemingly normal writing desk was a matte marble slab, on which resided a couple of sleek pen stands. The sophisticated stationeries coated under polished black synthetic resin embellished by delicate golden engravings of our names in anagrams sat neatly in their shiny holders, inconspicuous against the other typical office supplies and fundamentally refined decor.

Yet, as a matter of fact, it was precisely the unobtrusive pieces that were the key to unlock our covert chamber.

While the fountain pens certainly functioned as they should, their storage canisters were not as innocent as they looked. Plunging them in opposite directions simultaneously and longitudinally would activate the rack packed with our extended collection of Encyclopædia Britannica to slide backwards, revealing the entrance leading into our private compartment.

Expertly, Charles unveiled the hidden den, and the veteran X-Men were unmistakably nonchalant. Contrastingly, Bobby and Rogue gasped dramatically while Kurt and Logan stared in astonishment as the bookcase slowly regressed.

Composedly, Storm marched into the advanced ward as she diligently ushered Jubilee. Following them was Scott who meticulously escorted a hobbling Jean and then Charles rolled in as Raven kindly wheeled me, before the others finally processed to enter.

Slamming the red button installed by the opened passageway, Scott sealed the area fitted with one-way windows that granted natural illumination without the outside world noticing our state of the art equipment.

Balancing on her healthy leg with her sprained ankle thickly dressed under strict layers of bandage, Jean stationed herself by the miniature X-ray machine and commanded several essential items to swoop into her hands. Although basic first aid necessities were made plainly available throughout the rest of the mansion, more hazardous pharmaceuticals that required professional administration were only stashed here.

As Storm initiated to treat the others to some isotonic drinks to replenish their strength drained during our taxing mission, I was courteously steered towards Jean by Raven with Charles chaperoning.

Unbundling the ice pack clad moistly in condensation, Charles was appalled to be reminded of the horrible contusions my joint had suffered. While the pain had been adequately numbed by the cold, unsightly patches, an unattractive hybrid of red, blue, and black, stained my paled skin wrapping the prevailing swollen portions.

A quick flash later, Jean diagnosed yet another dislocation, but this time thankfully much less complicated than before, and she injected me with a suitable dose of morphine that roughly aided to stifle my scream as she neatly popped my disconnected joint back into place.