This is a heavily edited version of a story by the same name that I published on this site about a year ago. It's still not very good, I'm afraid, but I hope you enjoy anyway. :)

I pranced ahead of Jeb, who was holding two-year-old Angel's hand. It had been a month since us mutants had escaped from the School, and Jeb had decided we had learned enough about the outside world to go out in public two at a time. Today was mine and Angel's day, and Jeb had taken us to town to go grocery shopping.

"Can I hold the basket?" I asked excitably, happy to be living a "normal" life for a few hours, and thrilled to have Jeb almost to myself.

He gave me an uneasy grin. "Sure, Max, but concentrate. Work on your three-sixties."

I sighed, and glanced around for suspicious activity, just like he was training me to do. I saw none of the warning signs he had taught us.

"Good," he said, and smiled at me. I beamed back up at him, basking in even the littlest of praises.

Our shopping trip went off without a hitch (apart from me ramming some woman with the cart), and as we walked out of the Kroger, Jeb turned to me.

"That was great. You kept your wings in, didn't attract attention, and kept alert. You and Angel deserve a reward."

A reward? To ten-year-old me, his praise was enough. Not old or experienced enough to care about the fact that I may be in danger, his satisfaction was the only reason I did all of those three-sixties, and learned the common places people hid guns.

"What do you two want to do?" he asked.

I thought for a moment, not really sure what I wanted, but Angel answered for the two of us. "Park," she demanded, tugging on Jeb's hand.

Jeb looked for my agreement, and I nodded in agreement. The park? Why not!

"'Okay then," Jeb declared, placing Angel in the cart so that he could take over pushing it for me. "Park it is."

The ride to the park was short and sweet and when we arrived, I jumped out and helped Angel unbuckle herself. Taking her hand, slightly sticky from the pancakes we had eaten that morning, I pulled her over to the swings. We had a tire swing back at the E-shaped house, so I was familiar with the concept.

After trying them out for a few minutes, getting the hang of the leg pumping and whatnot, I found myself bored. I had flown hundreds of yards in the air. Eight feet was hardly thrilling.

However, Angel, who wasn't enough yet to fly, was different. I got of my own swing to push her, amused at how pleased she was with such a small distance of the ground. She squealed and giggled as she soared higher.

I looked around for Jeb, and found him sitting on a bench about twenty yards away, reading some book. He seemed pretty at ease, only looking up every few minutes or so, so I let my guard down a bit. If Jeb wasn't worried about this place, there must not be any bad guys. I looked around a bit more.

The park was fairly large, and had a large track that circled it. I saw several kids playing on the equipment, but none of them were my age. I wouldn't have talked to them anyway. Iggy and Fang were my best friends, I didn't need any more.

Angel, however, noticed that there were several kids her age gathered near the sandbox, and unlike me, she was a bit friendlier.

"Off!" she demanded, and I stopped the swing for her. She toddled over to the sandbox area and plopped down, next to some slightly older kid. She watched what he was doing and mimicked him, building some misshapen dirt pile that I was sure was a castle in her mind.

I watched her play warily for several minutes, and when I had determined she was safe, I wandered off on my own.

The jungle gym, slides, see-saws, or anything else didn't really appeal to me, so that left the track for me to play on. I wandered over to it. I couldn't run, because someone would notice how abnormally fast I could go, but I could walk, and have some time to think alone. That was a rare opportunity for me.

However, as I crossed the grass, wet from last night's rain, and approached the track, a horror assaulted my young eyes.

Worms, hundreds of them, littered the sidewalk, driven out of the dirt by the storm. I saw some that had been squashed by people, and others that were being dried up by the sun. They just lay there, some squirming feebly, but most dead.

I dropped to my knees, not even hesitating, as I began to pick up the squirming ones, throwing them back in the grass. I didn't think about it really, all I knew is that the worms were hurt and I wanted to save them.

I worked in a little ten-tear-old flurry for several minutes, trying to save as many as possible. I barely noticed that someone had wandered over and was standing over me.

"Max, what are you doing?" came Jeb's voice, curious.

I didn't look up, just poked a dry-looking one to see if it was still alive. "I'm saving the worms. They keep getting squashed."

"Worms get squashed all the time, Max," he told patronizingly.

I frowned to myself. Well, yeah, I knew that. "These don't have to get squashed though. I can save them."

"It's only a couple of worms, Max," Jeb reasoned, and I finally looked up to meet his eyes. He was gazing at me curiously, and a part of me wanted to shy away. Jeb was using his Whitecoat look; the one that made me feel like he was analyzing me. It brought back bad memories of the School.

I looked away swiftly, uncomfortable, and continued with my task. "Why should that matter? They're still important."

"How? Worms aren't important for anything. They're just food for other animals. You saving them is wasting your time." He was testing me. I didn't know it at the time, but he was.

I paused once more in my prodding to glare at my mentor. "I'm sure the worms appreciate it," I retorted.

"They're worms. They don't appreciate anything. They're just animals," he declared, his voice horribly arrogant, and for a second it sounded like he was a smart Whitecoat again, examining scans of my brain.

But Jeb knew I hated that voice? Why was he using it now?

He was trying to push my buttons, I realized, and it was working. Just animals. He was asking for it, just screaming for it, and boy was he going to get it. I shot up, hands going straight to my hips. "Like birds are just animals? They may not be as big or smart as humans are, but they still have feelings. I still have feelings, and if I was stuck on a sidewalk with the sun being hot and people stepping on me, I'd want someone to move me."

Realizing that approach would do nothing but piss me off, Jeb changed gears. Arrogance to logic. "What you're doing isn't benefiting the world, Max. One worm won't save the world."

I raised my eyebrow in surprise. "Who said anything about saving the world? And anyway, it's still a step. I'm still helping the world, even if it is just a little bit."

Jeb looked disapproving now. "Little steps aren't what make differences, Max. Little steps don't help anyone."

I glared at him, arrogant first, then logical, now preachy. There wasn't anyone else in the worldI looked up to so much, or that irritated me this much. Well, maybe Fang. "What are we all supposed to do, then? Just sit around and do nothing just because it doesn't make an obvious difference?"

Jeb stared at me with a cold, calculating stare. "You're special, Max. You can do big things, and you will someday." He spoke this with such finality that it chilled me. I tried not to let it show.

"Yeah, well this isn't someday, Jeb. So if you'll excuse me, I'm to go save some worms."

And with that I stalked off.

Six years later, I watched Itex explode below me, thousands of experiments inside. The rush power from the blast threw me, causing me to drop twenty feet before I caught myself. Something was obscuring my vision, and I was sure it was tears.

I had caused that explosion. I had had Iggy make the bomb. I had invaded Itex's main plant, with several of the lead officials inside. I had thrown the bomb.

And then I had flown away, an angel of death.

I'm doing a good thing, I told myself, wiping at my shocked tears. The world was in great danger. Mutant sightings were a regular occurrence. The outside world was catching wind of what was going on. When what Itex had done became public, the world would fall into shambles.

People would be disgusted with what had occurred. They would boycott Itex's products. This would throw the world's economy into shambles. And when the economy failed, war would most certainly follow.

Fang and I had spent countless nights before now reviewing our situation. Were we on the right side? Would stopping Itex truly be what was right for the world?

The answer had always been yes. Stopping Itex would lead to the overall least loss of life. So how could it be wrong?

Knowing what was right, however, didn't change the burden of the deaths I had caused from laying heavily on my soul. It didn't help me feel any better.

Stifling a shocked, shaky sob, I flew away from the massacre I had caused. Behind me, lives burned up into ashes that in a few hours people would weep over.

The worst part, for me at least, was that it wasn't over. Itex may be gone, but its effects were still everywhere. Mutants had to be found and taught how to blend in. Itex products would have to continue being made somehow. Cover stories would have to be formed. There was work to do, and it had to be done soon.

The responsibility fell on me. I had a lot to do if I wanted to keep the peace.

I sighed, pulling myself together, and making a mental list in my head as my wings pumped. Itex was gone. I could check that off my to-do list. The Flock was safe with Fang. I wouldn't have to worry about that.

The Flock. How I wanted them right now. But what would they say if they could see what I had done?

Half an hour later, I landed in the nearest town. It was time to regroup, figure out which direction I would need to go. The streets were slick from the previous night's rain, and I almost slipped as I landed.

I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do. What did someone do after taking the lives of thousands?

The lives of thousands…

Oh, god. The full realization of what I had just done hit me in one blast, and I choked in pure horror at my actions.

Suddenly, I was on the ground, back pressed up against a telephone pole as I pressed my face into my hands, hyperventilating and sobbing all at once.

I had killed kids. I had killed experiments, people like me. Innocent people. They had died, just because they were in the same building as evil men.

Oh, god.

Deep down, I had known this would happen. I'd known how responsible anyone involved with the demise of those thousands of mutants would feel. That was why I had left the Flock, telling the younger ones nothing of my plan, Fang and Iggy the barest minimum. They were innocent, and I would keep it that way. I'd join back up with them when I could.

But right now, they didn't need to see me like this. They didn't need to see the scar that this had formed on my soul. No, I would just have to stay away until my emotions could be hidden.

I pulled myself up, taking a deep breath and trying to get a grip on myself. Wallowing wouldn't do anything. I needed to get to work, immediately.

No matter how much I hurt right now, I had to fix the world.

Who did I tell? What did I do? I had committed murder, so would I be arrested? Should I be arrested? What about surviving mutants, out in the world? Could we get them citizenship and the rights that came with it? And of surviving members of Itex? Could they reform? What would I do if they did?

So I wandered down the streets, slick from the previous night's rain, trying to figure out these questions, tears still running down my cheeks, my thoughts still trying to flee in hysterical directions. Every few seconds I had to wipe away a tear and remind myself to breathe.

What did I do? Where did I go? And how on Earth was I going to look innocent Angel in the eye knowing that she looked up to me, a murderer of the highest degree?

At that second, my life reached its lowest point. It didn't get lower than right there, on a wet street at nine o'clock on a Tuesday morning, imagining what Angel would think of me, and trying to piece back together the world in my head. Right then, my life fell apart.

For a full six seconds, my world was broken, and I hung my head in the deepest shame someone could feel. And then, as my eyes focused on something, my world snapped right back into place.

At my feet was a worm.

I stared at it for a second, watched it squirming and thrashing, and for that instant, I was a defiant child again, snapping back at Jeb, defending the dying creature in front of me.

In that single instant, everything became clear to me. I saw that one little creature, and my life and future simply snapped back into place.

When I was ten, I had unknowing discovered how we could all save the world.

Six years later, I would finally put it to use.

I leaned down, picked up the worm from the sidewalk, taking care not to squish it, and put it in the grass. It lay there limply for a minute before giving a small little wriggle, like it was saying to the world, "Hey! I'm still here! Don't give up on me yet!" And as I stared at that small little creature, it continued to squirm, getting it's bearings in the slick grass.

My calves were starting to cramp from kneeling, so I slowly stood, a smile spreading across my face.

It was nine o'clock in the morning. So far today, I had eaten a crumby pop-tart from my pocket for breakfast. I had broken a nail readjusting the wires on a bomb. I had stubbed my toe in an air vent. I had killed thousands of sentient beings, and I had saved the life of a worm.

A bad day so far? Maybe. But there were fifteen hours left in today, so I started to run, spreading my wings to catch the air. Where was I going? I didn't really know.

All I really know right now is that this world is full of worms. I am the storm that stranded thousands, and now I had to save the rest.

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