He looked up from his book to see where the angry shouting was coming from.

A girl was pleading with another boy, he saw. The boy had an angry look on his face and was yelling at her. Her eyes poured tears. It was a sad sight.

Warren Peace, however, was not a sad nor empathetic person. So he returned to his book, leaving the distraught couple to their argument.

He was able to tune them out for about another ten minutes, before the other boy's voice got louder, angrier. Warren looked up, slightly concerned, just in time to see the boy's hand come down across her face with a loud slap!

Again, Warren was not empathetic, but he was a gentleman. And he would not stand for any man to hit a woman, be it his business or not.

He stood from the bench and made his way over to them.

"Don't touch her again." He ordered, his dark eyes boring into the boy menacingly.

The boy looked up, his brown eyes affronted.

"Who the hell are you to order me around? This is none of your business, asshole! Get lost!"

Warren snarled, startling the boy some. "I said, don't touch her again. Who are you to hit a woman?"

The other boy glowered at him. "I am her boyfriend."

"Then you need to take care of her, not beat her down."

"She disrespected me. I am not a man to--"

"You're right. You're not a man. A real man wouldn't beat his girl, disrespected or no. You're a coward. Now leave."

Fury burned in the boy's eyes. "How dare--"

"I said, leave." Warren repeated, flames licking up his tattooed wrists.

The boy snarled, but stalked away.

Warren powered down and turned to the girl. She was shaking and had tears pouring down her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her arm was raised, as if she were waiting for another attack.

Ignoring the scattered people who were staring at them, Warren slowly approached the girl. He held up one hand, so that when the girl looked up, she saw he would not hurt her.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, trying not to startle her. He wasn't used to being so gentle.

Still shaking, the girl tried to form an answer. "Y-y-e-esss……..I-I….I j-just….." That was about all she could manage past the sobs that promptly erupted. She collapsed on her knees and sat there on the ground, a crying, sobbing mess.

Warren froze. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't know how to handle this. Then, an idea hit him right in the face.

He couldn't handle this . . . But he knew someone who could.

"Warren? Warren what happened? I got your call and--Oh!"

The redheaded biokinetic stopped dead upon seeing the sight ahead of her.

"What did you do?" She asked, horrified, looking back and forth between the freaked-out pyro and the broken-down girl.

"Nothing!" Warren said, offended. Why did she always assume it was him? Granted, it normally was him, but that was beside the point. "It was her boyfriend! He hit her! So I ran him off, and then she collapsed!"

Layla's face softened and she knelt beside the sobbing girl.

"Are you alright? He didn't hit you too hard?"

The girl looked up and Layla gasped. The girl's crying had smeared her make up, revealing ghastly bruises. The girl pushed up her sleeves, exposing even more. Warren was afraid to see the rest of her body.

He snarled unintentionally. "Bastard."

"Warren!" Layla gave him a reproving glare.

"Don't," The girl sniffled. "He's right. Kyle is a bastard."

"Then why are you with him? If he beats you, don't suffer through it." Warren said, looking at her.

"It's not that simple. I can't just leave my entire life, and he knows how to find me. I can't just up and leave, and expect him to disappear from my life." She sniffled again.

"You don't have to leave your entire life, sweetie." Layla said, hugging her. "We'll help you. You won't have to put up with Kyle anymore."

Warren blinked. "Kyle? ….Do we--Kyle McAvery. He goes to school with us."

"That's right, though I never really talked to him much." Layla mused.

"You never really talked to me either." The girl said, smiling slightly.

"What-?"

"I'm in your third period. Mad Science II."

"I knew I knew you from somewhere! Gah!" Layla said, bonking herself on the forehead. "I'm such a ditz sometimes. Sorry."

The dark haired girl chuckled. "That's alright. I….I screw things up, too."

Suddenly, her smile faded.

"He told you that, didn't he?" Layla asked softly. The girl nodded dismally.

Warren growled again.

"Warren, please calm down." Layla sighed, looking back at the girl. "I remember you now. You're name is Abella--".

"Bella."

"Sorry. Bella Maria Santiago. Right?"

"Right." Bella nodded, pulling herself up off the ground, drying her face as best she could.

"Well, Bella, why don't you come with us? I think you could use a more friendly atmosphere, and I was just on my way to meet the rest of my friends for Chinese."

Warren blinked at her use of the word 'us', implying he was going with them.

"Even Warren's going! It'll be fun and you could use a break."

And there it was.

"Layla-"

"Warren will be there?" Bella asked softly, looking over at him. He looked back at her, confused. Why did it matter to her if he went, too?

The longer she looked a him, hope so evident on her face, the more he could feel himself caving in. Finally he sighed.

"Yes. I'm going, too."

Bella smiled. "I'll go."

"Wonderful! Er--my house is down the road, if you'd like to clean up. You can borrow a shirt, too, if you like. Yours is covered in dirt."

"Yeah…That would be nice. Thank you."

"It's no problem. C'mon." Layla started off for her house and Bella made to follow. She stopped then, looking back to where Warren was still standing.

"I'm coming." He said, starting to walk. Bella waited until he had caught up with her to start walking again.

Warren shot a sideways look at her, assessing the bruises on her face, and the tired sadness in her brown eyes. It was a sad thing. He got the feeling that, before Kyle had ruined her, she was a laughing, brilliant, wonderful person.

Just thinking about it made him want to roast the blonde guy. Who could ever do something like that to a person? As mean and volatile as he could be, Warren had never actually abused anyone. Not even Stronghold.

He sighed quietly, turning his attention to Layla's house, which now stood in front of them.

"Alright," Layla said, once they were inside. "Come with me, Bella. Warren, you can wait in the living room. We'll be down shortly."

Warren shrugged as the girls went upstairs, and settled down in a dark brown arm chair. While waiting for them, he tried very hard not to think of Kyle. Layla would kill him if he incinerated her furniture. Again.

About twenty minutes later, Layla come down with Bella in tow. Looking at Bella, Warren could no longer tell she had bruises, and her eyeliner made her eyes even darker. Layla was an excellent make-up artist.

He noticed Bella picking at the hem of her dark grey cardigan. He thought the burgundy shirt underneath it looked odd. And he wondered why it even mattered.

"You look much better." He said, and pretended not to notice her blush when she thanked him.

Layla obviously saw it, too, and quickly got them back on track.

"Okay you two, Will's going to get antsy if we're any later, so let's get going!" She chirped, bouncing out the door.

Bella gave her an odd look, but followed, and Warren walked outside, wondering what great power of the universe had decided Layla would be a perfectly normal edition to life for him.

Okay, so, here is my first fic on this account! Whoop whoop! What did you all think? This is more of an introduction to Bella as a new member of the group. I don't know yet what her power(or Kyle's)is , so drop a suggestion or two when you review? Yes, this will be a Warren/OC, I just don't know how long it will take me to actually initiate their romance and then get it going. So, until next time, mein liebes! Mwah!

~Carys