AN: Mark Rivers a.k.a WeaponMaster is property of yaoiboy167. Quinn Moore a.k.a Nightmare is mine. The two of them are featured in yaoiboy167's The Final Chapter. I have just borrowed Mark because I wanted to write a story with him and Quinn in it that was my own idea. So this is technicly not a real story but a fanfic of a fanfic... Heh heh. That sounds funny... So yeah! I dont own Mark or X-Men Evolution (sadly). Check out yaoiboy167's The Final Chapter!

Quinn pulled her stolen sleeping bag around her shoulders and glanced around. Mark lay next to her, his breathing even and quiet. She ran a hand through her pixie cut white hair and closed her crimson red eyes. The secluded park around them was silent except for the occasional whoosh of a bat's wings or the hoot of an owl. Quinn shivered and curled into a little ball. An arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and she opened her eyes. Looking over she saw Mark sitting next to her, his nearly black eyes contrasting severely with his pale skin.

"What you doing awake?" he asked. Quinn shrugged and Mark shifted closer to her. "Couldn't sleep?" he pressed. Quinn shook her head and Mark sighed. "Only a couple more days," he told her for the millionth time. "Only a couple more days."

"How many days?" Quinn snapped. "You say that every night Mark, yet we never seem to get any closer! This would be so much easier if only these-" Her sleeping bag fell from her shoulders as she unfolded her glowing white wings. "-weren't so fucking useless!" Mark sighed and grabbed the tips of her wings, pushing them down in an indication for Quinn to close them. She stood up, the edge of her left wing clipping Mark under the jaw. He fell back growling and Quinn whirled around to face him. The two glared at each other for a long minute. "Why did I ever think that following you would be a good idea?" Quinn muttered.

"You'd still be stuck in the middle of Washington if it weren't for me," Mark snapped.

"I could have gotten out of that tree!" Quinn exclaimed.

"Not with both wings punctured. Face it Q, if it weren't for me you'd be dead right now."

"If we don't get to New York soon we will be dead!" Quinn's words rang around their heads and echoed in their ears. "It's almost November and if we don't find the school soon…" She let the threat hang above them and Mark looked away, rubbing his jaw slightly. "We're almost there," Mark repeated quietly. Quinn grumbled under her breath as she closed her wings and lowered herself to the ground. Mark sat up just as she pulled her sleeping bag towards her. "Quinn," Mark sighed. "I promise you we'll-"

"Don't start with that promise crap. You know I don't go for it. My parents also promised to love me no matter what, and look where that got me." She snuggled down in her sleeping bag and let out a large yawn. "Goodnight Mark," she said, her tone cold. Mark didn't say anything, just watched his companion fall into a quiet slumber. When her soft snores told him that she was fully asleep he got to his feet.

Stretching his arms above his head he checked the old watch on his right wrist. 4:37pm October 18th 2008. His lips twitched into a grim smile at the time and date ever frozen on the antique. Quinn had offered on more than one occasion to fix his broken wristwatch but he had always declined. It was a reminder about why he had to find Xavier's.

He stepped away from Quinn and looked around the park. Usually he'd leave her for a couple hours, three tops, in search for supplies. But he didn't need to since Quinn had beat him to it. That was why she was awake, not because she couldn't sleep but because she had just gotten back to their little makeshift campsite.

Mark glanced at the pile of supplies out of the corner of his eye. In the darkness he could only make out lumpy shapes but he took a guess at what she had grabbed: food, obviously; two or three flashlights, two sweaters along with maybe a couple other pieces of clothing, and a new blanket. Mark flexed his fingers and turned away. Now that he knew that Quinn had taken care of supplies he just wanted to go out to go out. He looked over to where she was curled up in her black sleeping bag, her lips moving slightly as she talked in her sleep.

Taking a step over her he lowered himself onto one knee. "Couple more days," he heard Quinn mutter. "Everything … work out." She cringed and her hands wound themselves in her hair. "Leave him alone," she mumbled. "Go away…" Her eyes shifted beneath their lids and Mark reached out a hand to wake her up. Before he could her face fell, looking suddenly relaxed. Her lips parted in the slightest smile. "We're here…" Mark laughed quietly to himself. He should have known better. When it came to dreams Quinn, or Nightmare as Mark called her, could deal with those on her own. She could put herself in a nightmare and then in less than a second collect herself and pull herself out of it and into a happy sunshine wonderful place.

Smiling slightly Mark stood up. As he turned away from her he decided that it wouldn't hurt to leave her for a couple minutes, he could go out for a bit of a run and come back before she noticed. With that decision made he made sure his watch was strapped on tightly before he broke into a sprint across the late October's fallen leaves.