Disclaimer: BMFM and XM:E belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with their toys, and I promise to put them back in their proper places when I'm done with them.

Lost and Found

It had been weeks since Mace had abandoned her on Earth, saying all fun and games had to eventually come to an end. She'd wanted to laugh then and ask just when exactly they'd been having fun but held her tongue instead, fearing his answer and that lecherous grin. He'd had his fun, maybe, but if he thought he was going to leave her for dead on this planet, he had another thing coming. It took more than what he'd done to her to diminish her spirits. She was a survivor, and she'd make it here until the others finally tracked her down and took her home.

Except surviving on Earth proved to be harder than on Mars, or any other planet for that matter. Within a few short hours she'd learned that Earthlings weren't a friendly sort and they didn't take kindly to those that were different. If she was going to get anywhere here, she'd have to hide herself, something she wasn't completely comfortable doing. She was proud of what and who she was, after all, and she refused to take slinking around in the dark and shadows like a rat lightly – but if it meant making life a little easier for the time being, she was willing to suffer a little in silence.

It was the idea that somewhere out there, they were looking for her – that he was scouring the galaxy to find her – that kept her going for the most part. Unfortunately hope is quickly squandered when it becomes obvious it was all in vain. Nobody was coming for her and Mace had been right, that she would waste away on this planet and no one would even noticed. The humans would find her eventually, hapless and useless, huddled in the back of an alley like the vermin she was. The Freedom Fighters would forget about her, if they hadn't already, and Vinnie would move on to the next girl that caught his eye – if, that too, hadn't already happened. Because Vincent van Wham had a wild heart and without an anchor to hold it down, it would no doubt wander.

Her future was looking dismal, and it was the notion that she could do nothing to change it that finally broke her.

The rain was cold, and her tattered shirt did nothing to fight the chill away any longer. It was soaked through and clung to her uncomfortably, but she made no effort to remove the worn garment or find shelter. She simply kept walking with no actual destination in mind, momentarily reveling in the freedom the storm brought her. The humans were holed up in their houses, and for the first time in weeks she was able to walk out in the open, and she wasn't about to let the chance pass her by, even if it meant exposing herself to the elements.

She wasn't sure how long she walked in the frigid downpour before her knees decided to buckle. Whether the tumble was caused by a misjudged step or stress finally catching up to her, she couldn't say and didn't care to know. She brought herself closer to the nearest building and sat with her legs hugged to her chest and her forehead to her kneecaps, staring at the sliver of dirty concrete visible between legs.

It wasn't that she refused to cry, but more like she simply couldn't. She'd shed her angry and frustrated tears days ago and her eyes had been dry since. It was sad, she thought, to be able to get to the point where tears just wouldn't come, even if she wanted them to. Sighing, she closed her eyes and buried her face further into knees.

She thought of Mars and Stoker and Vinnie and a million whys raced through her brain, as they always did when she thought without distraction, something she found herself doing often as of late. Her chest heaved and her heart sank and she damned them and wished for them and felt something primal surging through her that made her want to scream until her throat bled.

But she didn't, because suddenly the rain wasn't falling on her and she was vaguely aware of another body standing in front of her. The ugly thoughts and feelings were forgotten as she looked up and saw a young man smiling uneasily down at her, the rain quickly soaking him as he sheltered her with his umbrella.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and his voice was a most welcomed sound.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, voice cracked from the lack of usage.

"Come viz me," he said softly, holding a hand out to her.

She stared for a moment, unable to believe this random act of kindness from a total stranger, but hesitated before putting her hand in his. It wasn't the hand she'd wanted, but she supposed it was better than no hand at all.

His name was Kurt, and he lived in a mansion full of people that weren't entirely human. In fact, he'd taken her home because he'd mistaken her for a mutant, though it wasn't like he regretted the move once the Professor revealed her to be an alien instead. Introductions followed, and then the Professor insisted she make herself at home for as long as she felt necessary.

"I didn't mean to judge," he said apologetically, brow knitted together as he walked with her through the halls, leading her to the room she'd been appointed to. "I just zhought you vere, vell, like us."

She shrugged with one shoulder. "To be honest," she said quietly, "I don't care what you thought about me." She paused here, slowly bringing her gaze to meet his. "I'm just glad you found me."

"Vhat vere you doing out zhere, anyway?" he asked, slowing the pace unintentionally.

"Waiting," she murmured, shaking her head and laughing inwardly, hollowly.

"Vhat, or who, for?"

"That doesn't matter," she looked away and wrung her hands together. "Not anymore."

Not one to pry, Kurt left that at that, figuring if she ever wanted to talk about it she would when she was ready.

"So, anyway," she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, "what makes you so different?"

Kurt responded with a rather uncouth, "huh?"

"Your power. Professor Xavier said you all had some kind of power, so what's yours?"

"I'm a teleporter," he answered, then turned a grin on her. "Maybe I can show you sometime."

Mentally noting his offer, she pressed on, "what else?"

She may have been tired and worn, but she was no fool and her eyes were as keen as ever. The boy didn't carry himself right, and that watch around his wrist was a far cry from normal.

"Vell," he said, stopping and rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, only somewhat hesitant. "Zhere ist one ozher zhing." Then he pressed a button on that strange watch of his, and the hologram faded, showing him for everything he really was: blue fur, fangs, a barbed tail, pointed ears, golden eyes, two toes and three fingers – and that included the thumb.

Had she felt more like herself, perhaps she would have voiced her inner interest, but instead she simply raised an eyebrow and tried on a lopsided smirk. "That's better."

"Better?"

"I have a thing against second skins," she muttered and he didn't fail to notice the bitterness in her voice.

"Zhen," he said decidedly and without a second thought, "I vill leave zhe image inducer off vhen I am around you."

"You'd do that for me?" she asked disbelievingly. They'd only just met and this boy was trying so hard to reach out to her,to make her comfortable in this world. When he nodded, she couldn't help the smile that found its way on to her lips.

"Thank you."

She quickly became one of the boys, fitting in all too easily with her love of all things mechanical. She took a certain shine to nearly everything in the garage, especially Logan's motorcycle. It was nothing compared to what she was used to, but it was what she was familiar with, so when it came back in pretty bad shape after the Wolverine had a run in with someone called Sabretooth, she jumped at the chance to touch it up.

By the time she was finished, the bike looked better than new, and she'd even taken the liberty to add some extras on to it, promising its rider he wouldn't be disappointed the next time he wanted to make a lasting impression on his rival.

"You really know vhat you're doing," Kurt chuckled after Logan had left her to clean up.

"Of course I do," she said with a pride she recognized as what used to burn in her like fire. Being here, with these people, was making her better. Slowly, but surely. She'd never be able to express her gratitude. "I was the best wrench-jockey on Mars before – "

When he noticed her struggling, he waved the subject away with a smile. "Vell, now you're zhe best on Earth."

"Oh, you," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

The smile only broadened. "Hey, Bobby's organizing a football game for later on zhis afternoon," he nudged her with an elbow. "Vant to come?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it, quickly looking to the floor. "I – I don't know, Kurt. I promised Scott I'd look at his car – "

"Oh, come on. It vill be fun!"

And she was sure it would be, except she couldn't stand to be around the Iceman. It was nothing personally against him, and she knew her bitterness toward him was childish and misplaced, but she saw so much of Vinnie in the icy mutant. Until everything was behind her, until the feelings were dead and he was just a memory, she knew it was in her best interest to stay as far away from Bobby Drake as possible.

She shook her head, turning on her heal to pick up the tools she'd used on Logan's bike. "Maybe next time."

She'd always known life was cruel, but she never would have guessed it could be like this. Kurt led her out of the garage and into the rec room, and neither failed to notice the awkward silence upon their entering. Only the television dared to make a sound, which was ironic considering the news program being broadcast was the cause of everyone else's silence.

"Vhat's up?" Kurt asked, brow furrowed, and then he gaped when he noticed just what was on the screen. It was no wonder everyone else had been struck dumb.

"Harley," Kitty spoke up from her place on the couch, turning to look over her shoulder at the Martian mouse. "They look like you," she said softly, pointing toward the TV.

Harley stared, ignorant of the dozens of eyes on her. There they were, on a nationwide broadcast, officially outing themselves as the self-proclaimed protectors of Chicago. And there he was, with his arm around a human's shoulders, his tail possessively around her waist.

Ride free, citizens, they said. Ride free.

If Harley had had a gun, she would have shot the TV all to hell and back right then and there without a second thought. But she didn't have a gun, so she did the next best thing: turned about face and left the rec room as fast as she could, eager to lock herself up in her bedroom.

How long had they been on Earth? As much as the question was repeating in her mind, she could honestly say she didn't want answer. If she found out they'd been here all along, she wasn't quite sure what she'd do. And then her mind wandered to the pretty brunette clinging so comfortably to Vinnie. It was obvious there was something between them, and idly wondered how long it had taken for him to forget about her and move on – another question she didn't want answered.

She paced the room, unable to remain still, fearing she'd break something if she didn't keep moving, didn't keep her body busy and her mind at least slightly preoccupied with the motions her legs were required to make to take her from one side of the room to the other.

And the pacing didn't stop, even when Kurt 'ported into her bedroom. "Harley?"

"Get out," she said under her breath.

"Harley, vhat's wrong?" he pressed on cautiously.

She sighed and slowed her movements until she stopped at the window, her eyes fixed on the sky. "When we met," she said softly, her tone dark, "you asked me what I'd been waiting for. It was them."

"Vhat... happened?"

She sighed again, turning to face him very slowly. "Come here, and I'll show you." Because there was something about this blue-furred mutant that calmed her down and made her feel welcome, and she couldn't stay mad around him, no matter how desperately she wanted to at the moment.

Kurt made his way over to her, and was surprised when she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him closer. Before he could ask what she was doing, she pressed their foreheads together, curling her antennae and pressing the tips to his head. Through this mental connection, she showed him the damage the Plutarkians had done to Mars and to Her people, including the three he'd seen on TV mere minutes ago. She showed him the closeness she'd once had with Vinnie, and how quickly it had been ruined when Mace whisked her away. What followed, she made sure, was choppy, because there were things Mace had done to her that not even she cared to remember. Then came her time on the street, up until Kurt found her. She pulled away after that.

"Understand now?" she said through gritted teeth.

Kurt could only nod dumbly.

"Who knows how long they've been here?" she snapped bitterly, throwing her arms up in the air before walking around him and sitting on the edge of her bed. "They looked pretty damn comfortable to me, so I'm guessing longer than I have," she muttered now, clenching a fist, digging her nails into her palm.

"Maybe," Kurt said, sitting down beside her, "now zhat you know vhere zhey are, you can go to zhem?"

She laughed hollowly, shaking her head. "Give me one good reason why I should. They've obviously given up on me."

And Kurt could have easily given her a dozen logical reasons why she should have gone to them, but he decided that if she didn't want to, then no reason would be a good one. He swallowed hard and put his hand on hers, squeezing gently to relax her.

"Zhen, maybe, you should give up on zhem, too."

She stared at their hands for a long time, letting his words process. In the end, the hope that they'd come for her was always there, even if it was forcibly buried as deep as it could go. Thinking back, she supposed that hope held her back from a lot of things, but especially from being herself again. So, maybe Kurt was on the right track, maybe letting go was the way to go. And if he was there to help her pull through, there wasn't a doubt in her mind she could do it, in time.

She slowly turned her hand over in his, tangling their fingers together. She gave his hand a squeeze.

Starting over didn't sound like such a bad idea anymore.

-End