Disclaimer: The author is in no way earning any form of material profit from this. This is a fanfiction made purely for the entertainment of the writer and reader.
The only beta for this story is you!Any mistake found, please report to me. Grammar, plot, character…any flaw, I want to know and fix. (Almost) nothing is too small.
Summary: Jason Lee. He's the brother of Jubilee and one of the more powerful mutants on the planet. But how does such a powerful mutant just pop up? He doesn't. Prequel to "Time Bomb."
Warning: This story is a prequel to another. It is unnecessary, but encouraged to read the original story first.
I asked a friend what people speak in Scotland. He said "English with a Scottish accent." So…don't expect perfection.
Chapter 1: Introduction
Jason winced as the x's and y's and fractions swirled before his eyes. He rubbed his head, feeling a migraine building up in his head. The pain intensified, causing him to grip his desk.
He blinked.
Jaws dropped as students and teachers alike stared at Jason. All around him, the floor grayed and turned to ashes. The air around him shimmered like pavement on a hot day. The desks around him rusted and fell to pieces and evening the ceiling began to shake. Suddenly, the horrified silence was shattered.
"MUTANT!" A voice screeched. A hubbub of voices followed.
"It's gonna bring down the building!"
"Kill it!"
"Look out! It might be dangerous!"
The pencil flew through the air, crumbling to dust before it even touched him. More projectiles followed; balls of paper, pencil sharpeners, scissors. Every one of them was vaporized by the energy around Jason. He stumbled towards the door as an eraser nailed him in the shoulder.
The door crumbled into rot as the frame rusted and withered. He staggered down the hallway, the lockers creaking and groaning on the walls. A couple students stopped and screamed, dropping their books and running.
Jason stopped to breathe in gasps of air, but the very floor underneath him corroded. Slowly, he sank into the floor, his power and gravity sucking him down.
This story may have ended there, him rotting and decaying his way through the center of the earth. But the taxing of energy cleared his head. He blinked.
Jason crawled out of the pit that he had created through the linoleum. He lurched through the emergency exit, triggering an unnecessary alarm. Jason dashed to his bike, fumbling to unlock it, but the whole bike shattered into ash and rust.
Screw it! he thought, and ran towards him, leaving hissing shoe prints in the parking lot.
Jason almost made it without incident. He maneuvered through intersections and roads, all clear of traffic. Finally, however, he came upon a populated street. He pounded across the busy street, too frantic to "look both ways." A tank truck hurtled towards him, its pathetic brakes unable to stop its momentum.
Jason blinked as the massive vehicle bore down on him. As if hitting a wall, the truck creaked and rust began to pull on the cab. The entire tanker withered away. Oil splattered everywhere, and the driver screamed as he was flung from the now nonexistent cab. Jason stumbled back—right into the path of an oncoming bus. Passengers let out cries of terror as they were tossed into the air. Jason blinked again and the bus stopped mid-decay, its exterior painted with rust.
Jason finally stumbled onto his familiar lawn. His parents rushed out of the house when they heard their brand-new Mercedes clatter apart. Jason collapsed into his parents arms, his energy depleted. The world swirled around him, and he hoped that he wouldn't accidentally disintegrate them. Then he passed out.
"I can't stay here."
It was far from a question. Destroying one's school, a populated public bus, and a tank truck isn't resolved with a handshake, or even a letter of apology.
His father scratched his head. They were sitting in the backyard, underneath Jason's old tree house. He didn't want to bring down the house on anyone, and a fall from a tree probably wouldn't kill him, considering recent events.
"I don't want you to feel like you can't stay here, Jason," his father finally said. "But it'd be best if you left, yes."
"We want you to be safe, from your own powers, but also from important people," his mother said. "And they won't necessarily be happy about this."
"And where should I go?" Jason grumbled. "California isn't really mutant-friendly right now. America isn't mutant-friendly right now!"
"Son, do you remember last year when your school was talking about exchange student programs?" Jason's father asked.
"I really don't think that my school will want to support me or recommend me or whatever for anything after today."
"There is a school in Scotland that accepts mutants," his mother replied. "It already has a few attending."
"So it's off to Scotland, then," Jason said. Then, "Uh…could you pack my bag for me?"
Jason looked nervously at the looming airport. His father patted him on the back.
"You'll be fine," he reassured him.
"And if I'm not fine on an airplane over the ocean?" Jason retorted. "The last time I was 'not fine,' I took down a bus. At least that was on a street."
"We believe in you, Jason," his mother said.
"You guys believed in Michael Jackson," Jason told her. "Isn't he dead?"
"But we didn't know him like we know you," his father replied, denying nothing. "Now go. You don't want to miss your flight."
"You mean you don't want me to miss my flight," Jason muttered, stepping into the airport.
The process went a lot more smoothly than Jason expected. Maybe they went easy on him because he was a kid. Maybe the airplane business wasn't all that bad (A/N: NOT TRUE!). Either way, he breezed through baggage check and security. His plane wasn't scheduled to leave for almost an hour, so he stopped at McDonalds for a burger.
He was slurping his shake at the gate when he heard his flight called. Chugging it, he tossed it into a nearby trashcan. The cup hurtled through the air, but froze right above the opening. Jason mumbled something his mom wouldn't like and tried to ignore it. A business man passed by and dropped a crumpled piece of paper in, which received
"Boarding pass?" the attendant asked sweetly. He forked it over, tucked in his passport. "Thank you!"
Jason continued to the plane. Several times he was asked to flash his ticket. Did he really look like a terrorist or something?
Jason thought about it. Come to think of it, some mutants did look pretty weird. And he hadn't been near a mirror since…
He whipped out his phone and stared at his reflection. Two gold irises stared back at him.
"Holy…" he muttered. A man pulled into the seat next to him. On the aisle was a young woman. Jason pulled his sunglasses from his bag and perched them on his face. He stuck a pair of headphones in and leaned back. It was going to be a long flight.
Correction, Jason thought sourly as he showed off his passport to another guard. A few long flights. Los Angeles to New York to Great Britain, finally to Scotland. He promised himself that next time he would read his schedule before he got on the first plane.
But right now, he needed to concentrate on finding his bag and meeting…whoever.
Finding his bag was relatively easy, if not time consuming. He felt like it took forever for his bag to appear on the conveyor belt. He grabbed a green bag and checked the tag. It crumbled into sawdust. Grumbling, he unzipped it and surveyed the contents.
Slinging it onto his shoulder, he made his way out. Passing by a gate, he happened to notice a television.
"…a new mutant, who appears to have completely disappeared," the reporter was saying. The camera panned to show the rusted bus and oil spilled on the street.
Jason readjusted his sunglasses and walked faster.
"Jason! Jason Lee!"
Jason moved towards the woman holding the sign with his name.
"I'm Doctor MacTaggert," she said warmly. "But you can call me Moira."
Her accent was thick, but it didn't sound foreign in her mouth. It sounded…artistic, like she was speaking a painting or something.
"Uh…hi," Jason said. It seemed stupid to tell her his name.
"Ah, you must be tired. Come on, we'll be going quite far."
Moira kept a one-sided conversation going all the way to her van. That was fine with Jason, because he was dead on his feet. His body told him he should be going to bed, but the sun was shining right in his eyes.
He stumbled into the car and dropped his bags.
"Get comfortable," he heard. "It's a long way to Muir Island."
It was a long way.
The van drove for what seemed like hours. Then, when Jason finally thought that they had arrived, he was herded into a boat. After another long trip, Jason started awake as the boat slowed.
They had indeed arrived at an island. It was far from densely populated, but he could see a few young teenagers running around. All in all, it seemed like a nice enough place.
"You'll love it here," Moira said, as if reading his mind. "There are some wonderful people on the island. I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends."
Jason nodded sleepily. He tried not to yawn as a red-haired man and a purple-haired woman strode up to them.
"Speaking of friends," Moira said, gesturing to the two. "Sean, Betsy, this is Jason."
"Sean Cassidy," the man said, grasping Jason's hand. He also had an Irish accent, but it seemed weak. Weather-beaten, almost, as if he had used his voice too much and it was starting to wear.
"Poor dear, you must be exhausted," Betsy (Jason assumed) fussed. "Here. Allow me."
She touched a finger to the side of Jason's head. Immediately, his jet-lag disappeared. He felt like he had chugged seventeen espressos (without the need to pee).
"Thanks," Jason managed. Betsy let out a laugh.
"Not a problem, Jason," she said.
"Come on," Sean said. "I'll show you around."
"This school doesn't just accept mutants, does it?" Jason asked suspiciously as they moved away from Moira and Betsy.
"You got us," Sean laughed. "We're actually a school for mutants. Sure, we got a few humans, but the majority of the people here do have the X-Gene."
"All those mutants in one place…wouldn't that be dangerous?" Jason asked.
Sean laughed again. He seemed to like to make sound. "Don't worry, Jason. Muir Island has nothing to worry about…except itself."
Ooh…what does Sean mean? Sean, in case you didn't know, is Banshee.
If you must know, there're gonna be a lot of POWERFUL mutants in this story.
Please review and favorite/follow.
More soon,
—Jangling Bacon
