There are a lot of things in her past that Laura can’t forget, no matter how hard she tries. The best she can do is keep them locked away at the back of her mind, but even then the memories are always itching to come rushing back. Any small thing can break down the flimsy door she’s got it all locked behind.

A person, however, is not a small thing. A person is a very big thing that has her frozen to the spot. She knows that she’s staring at you like she’s seen a ghost and is mad about seeing said ghost, but she might as well have. You’re a phantom from her life of being sold, both for killing and for pleasure, come back to haunt her.

It’s been years since the two of you last saw each other. Both of you were so young, struggling to survive on the streets of New York with only yourselves and the other homeless kids in that little group to rely on. Laura would rather die than admit to the ache in her chest that the sight of you brought to her.

Everything inside of Laura was urging her to walk away. You’re not kids anymore, and there’s no telling that you’d even remember her. Even if you did, she doubts that you would want to see her. She left all of you behind, vanished without a trace to join the X-Men. You all looked for her; Kiden told her that herself when she turned up a year later, only to leave once more. You looked for her, and yet she never once asked the X-Men to help her old friends. If the roles were reversed, she’d resent you.

She certainly resents herself.

Wrapped up in her thoughts, Laura didn’t notice that her opportunity to escape was slipping away from her until it was already gone. A quizzical call of her name knocks some sense into her, and she lets out a string of curses under her breath. This is a scenario she never thought to prepare herself for. The only thing stopping her from turning on her heel and running is her pride.

“Hey,” she says, her tone too casual, “it's been a while.” Laura really isn't good at any touchy-feely shit, but that has got to be a new low.