Disclaimer: Logan's gone feral and stole my disclaimer. I can't go get it without getting my head stabbed. Anyone wanna go get it? Thought not. I do own my characters though.

Summary: The X-men went through crap as kids, so what happens when their kids have to go through it too? Deleted, Rewrote, and Revised.

AN: I have changed some things about my characters, like codenames and stuff, so if anyone has a character that has the same name or power or codename, I didn't copy you.

SGX: The Next Generation

Ch. 1: A Boring Day in the Life of Adventure

By: CRAZY-demented-WRITER-girl

He ran a hand through his spiky white hair, chocolate brown eyes shifting from one person to the next. He scratched idly at his forearm, and then continued down the hall. His nostrils flared slightly and he smirked.

Pizza…Yum…

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted from the thoughts of tomorrow's lunch as a yell caught his attention. His eyes narrowed then he took off. As he rounded the corner, the yells got louder. He burst outside and didn't even bother to shield his eyes from the glaring sun.

He stopped and sighed as he took in the sight of two black sneakers and a tail waving in the air. Muffled screams could be heard coming from the dumpster

He looked around quickly as to make sure that no one was coming, then grabbed the tail and disappeared. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face disdainfully then narrowed his eyes again as the sulfur dissipated.

"Trent. Trent!" he hissed.

"Are they gone?"

"Yes," he sighed.

He smirked as Trent's head popped up out of the dumpster and he offered a fanged smile. The white-haired boy helped him out and watched as he adjusted his image inducer.

"Thanks James," Trent said, after his image was fixed.

Trent looked somewhat normal with brown hair, brown eyes and no tail. Unfortunately, he had inherited his dad's appearance and type of teleportation. He waved good-bye and ported away.

James shook his head with a smile, white bangs swishing slightly at the movement of his head. He scratched at his arm again then went back inside. He made his way through the crowded hallways of Bayville High and stopped at his locker.

He looked around carefully then popped a bone claw, stuck it in his lock and twisted until he heard the satisfying sound of it unlocking. He retracted his claw, opened his locker, and sidestepped as some books came tumbling out.

He sighed, rolled his eyes, and counted to ten. A sudden boom of thunder erupted outside then subsided as he regained his composure. He picked up the books he needed for his last class then replaced the others and continued his trek.. He looked up at the door and scanned the words above it.

World History, Room 101, Mr. Baker…

James entered the room and took a seat near the back, beside a window. He clenched his eyes shut as sounds of gossip and whisper poured into his ears. He let out a small growl as someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"James…James!" She whispered harshly. "James, are you okay?"

He turned around and was met by a pair of stunning light green eyes. They reflected worry and anxiety. He could smell it on her too.

"Kayla…" he whispered.

A sudden bang on his desk broke him out of his reverie and he spun back around and glared at Mr. Baker, the History teacher.

"Good to see that I actually woke you this time, Mr. Logan." James grunted at the mention of his last name. He hated it worse then his first. "You know, Mr. Logan," he added, putting emphasis on James' name, "you sound like a wild animal when you make noises. Can't you act normal for once, or do I need to make an emergency call to the animal shelter?"

James closed his eyes then opened them, his vision blood red. A growl escaped his throat and he lunged at the portly man, claws ready. The sound of glass shattering and screams of horror filled his ears. He didn't even wince as the glass from Mr. Baker's broken spectacles pierced his skin.

He licked his lips as the taste of blood danced and tickled his taste buds. The blood in his veins grew hotter and hotter. He drew back then…

He shook his head and looked back into the boring gray-blue eyes of Mr. Baker. The screams of horror from his daydream were now replaced by the hushed whispers of the teens in the classroom. This time it was reality.

Mr. Baker sighed then pointed toward the door. He growled again and got up from his seat, grabbed his backpack with the notion that this wasn't going to be fast, and headed out into the hall.

Everything was silent and he let a sigh of relief pass through his lips. He hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder then made his way through the pale hallways. A few minutes later, he took in the door before him then pushed it open.

The secretary smiled sweetly at him. He offered somewhat of a smile back to her and took a seat in one of the plushy chairs beside the door to the principal's office. A few minutes later and another boy came out; looking as if he had been beat by an ugly stick.

He got up, looked around one last time, then entered the Office of Doom. He sat down again, slouched in the chair, and put his feet up on the desk. The bronze plate on the desk read: Principal Howey.

"You growled at him again, didn't you?"

James looked up in response and Principal Howey nodded and wrote something down in a forest green notebook. James eyed him suspiciously.

"I hope you know this is the tenth time that you've been in here this month," Principal Howey stated.

James just shrugged and ran a hand through his spiky white locks. Howey just snorted in disgust at the young mutant and handed him a note. James raised a white eyebrow and considered shredding it right then and there, but that would cause even more chaos than what already occupied his young life.

"I suggest that you show that to your parents, and I'll see tomorrow afternoon," Mr. Howey announced.

James just nodded and excused himself. Once in the hall, he smiled as the smell of leather, beer, and tobacco filled his senses.

"Logan!"

He whirled around. Piercing green eyes were lit up by the lightning that threatening to break outside. He strained not to pop his claws as the owner of the gem-like eyes strode confidently toward him. He looked the boy over.

He was much taller than himself, at least 5'10, 15 inches taller then James . His toned body stood out beneath his jeans. He swooped back his brownish-red hair and frowned.

"I heard that Logan."

"Fine then, Summers, I don't need to think it for you to know it, fag," James hissed under his breath.

"And you don't need to a brain to know that you're a barbarian, Logan," he countered.

"It's James, Seth!" he screamed.

"Whatever Logan," Seth said coolly.

James narrowed his eyes and growled deeply. Seth rolled his eyes, shook his head, and walked outside to.

James ran outside and stopped just as Seth got in a red convertible and drove off. He snarled and punched the brick, then shook his hand in pain. His clenched eyes opened slightly then lit up at the sound of a roaring engine.

His pain completely forgot, he ran down the steps and toward the Harley parked there. The leather clad man kicked the kick stand, removed his helmet and smiled. Their matching eyes locked and the man smoothed back his wild, blackish-blue hair.

"I think you've grown an inch, kid," he said, his voice gruff but loving.

"Thanks, and its James, Logan," James retorted stubbornly.

"And that's dad, James," Logan mocked.

"Heh, okay dad." Then his face fell. It was probably the most emotion that he had shown all day. "Did you find anything?"

"Not much. Just mostly stuff that I already new," Logan replied, voice dry.

"Yeah, what does it matter? You're back."

Logan sighed and kneeled down beside his son and placed his hands on his shoulders. Their eyes locked again and James tried to pull away, but couldn't.

"Kid, I'm sorry. I know it's been tough. But I'm back."

"For how long?" James asked angrily.

"I dunno, but I promise I'll stay as long as I can, okay?"

"Right," James replied, turning away and wiping away a tear before Logan could see.

"C'mon, kid. Let's get home and surprise your mom."

Logan took his son by the shoulder gently and they sat down on the bike. James smiled and wrapped his thin arms around Logan's waist after securing the helmet. It wouldn't really matter, but he had to wear it because of Logan's 'No Adamantium On His Bones' policy.

He smiled and as they drove through the town. He watched as the scenery changed from urban to country in a matter of minutes. Even though he was glad that his father was back, he couldn't help but feel like he forgot something.