I'm not even really in this fandom. I have no idea when I even wrote this, I just found it in a really old file. It looks like a great concept...if I even knew half of what is going on... I don't even know some of the characters in this...

I guess the concept is up for adoption, if you want it...

That day was the end of the world. The pain made it hard to concentrate, hard to fight. My arm bled freely, running down my arm. I had moved my molecules a bit too late, and the hunk of metal had sliced my arm open.

I had lost sight of Logan and the other senior X men a long time ago. Rouge's passed out form lay a few dozen yards away, mostly ignored by the attackers.

Bobby was fighting next to me, his legs in a combat position, his arms a blur, freezing enemies like no tomorrow, which was true. "Kitty!" he yelled as the force of a falling beam caused us to lose what little advantage we had.

I grabbed a metal plate and tossed it up as a shower of bullets rained down, blocking Bobby from the spray. But just as soon as the metal left my hand, I lost all sight.

"Bobby!" I cried out, throwing my arms in front of me. This was the end, I knew it. Somehow, I was dead. Because now I was sitting on something soft, not standing on broken glass. My hands went up to my eyes, only to find them shut tight. I massaged them lightly until I was able to pry them open. My jaw dropped open, and I stared in shock at the room around me.

From what I could tell, it looked just like my bedroom, the one I slept in when I lived with my parents. The walls the pale purple, the white desk in the corner, the alcove with the window. When I held my hand out, it looked like my hand, not a younger version or anything. A quick glance in the mirror showed a sixteen year old Kitty face.

I pushed my feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. No way this could be happening. My parents had abandoned me when I was twelve, dumping me in New York with $40 and a map to the Xavier Academy. I phased through the floor, right into the living room. Defiantly my old home. Nostalgically, I walked over to the kitchen and put my hand on the table. This proof didn't rule out a dream.

It must've been ten minutes before a sound spun me around. My mom, in a dressing gown, had a rueful smile on her face.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, leaning on the door frame.

"No," I replied slowly. This was the woman who hated me. Why would she worry about me?

"Here, let me." She poured two cups of milk, added honey, and popped them into the microwave. One minute later, we were both sitting at the table with warm, sweet milk.

"Can I ask you something?" I stirred my milk, making the spoon clink against the cup. My gaze was glued to the wood grain of the table.

"Anything, you know that."

I bit my lip. "Why did you do it?" I chanced a glance up at her.

She looked confused. "Do what?"

My chair creaked. "You know, leave me in New York. Because there's no way I'm actually here. I'm either dead, or dreaming, because I haven't set foot inside this house for four years."

She raised one eyebrow. "Kat, I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you have a dream?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "No. You left me when Senator Kelly started pushing the Mutant Registration laws, remember? You couldn't take it."

My mom snorted. "Mutant Registration? Really, Katherine, you have the weirdest dreams."

"You know what," I started, standing up, "I'm gonna go back to bed. Maybe then I'll actually wake up in the jet, with the others." Without waiting for an answer, I stood up, walked through the table and the island, and dumped my cup into the sink.

"Wait!" she called. "H-how did you do that?"

I stared at her face. "Mom, I've been doing his since I was seven."

She blinked. "News to me."

I slowly shook my head. "No, you were there the first time. I went through the car..." Realization slowly dawned. "Um, just a minute." I snatched the phone off of it's jack.

Once, almost a month before, I had been injured. It wasn't physically damaging, but it was painful, like a scar on my soul. To keep my mind off of the pain, everyone would talk to me in a continuous stream of words. It was anything: their homes, what their favorite part of Mutant High was, first kisses, old phone numbers. Every word was seared into my mind.

I punched Bobby's cell number into the phone and was shocked when someone picked up right away.

"Hello?" hissed the voice. "You do realize it is six in the morning?"

"Iceman?" I asked, hesitating on the next words. "It's Kitty. We need to talk."

The sound of something crashing came from the other line. "Kitty," he gasped. "You're dead. I watched the helicopter crush you."

"I'm alive," I snapped back. "What's going on?"

Another pause. "I've been here for a week. Woke up here about an hour after you were crushed. Nobody knows about mutants. How do you know my number?"

"You told me, remember? After the incident in Boston. Have you told anyone?"

Bobby sighed. "No, I haven't. You?"

"I just got here half an hour ago, and I walked through a table in front of my mom."

"Ah. Bet you're wishing you had Professor X here to help you erase her mind."

I bit back a nasty comment. "Not funny, Bobby. I don't think it's even possible that Charles Xavier is here. Not the one we know, anyway."

"I know," he replied, serious. "Do you have anyone else's numbers? We could try contacting them."

"Um, bits. Rouge's and Cyclopes, mostly. Listen, I have an extremely shocked mother next to me. I'll call you back if I remember anything." I mashed my finger into the end button before he could respond, and turned around.

"So... You really don't know anything about mutants?" I asked, not sure what answer I was hoping for.

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

I sighed. "This is going to sound weird... Can you give me a rundown of the political history of the past five years?"

My mom grinned weakly. This was something she understood, the thing she gravitated towards. Less then ten minutes later, my head was spinning from the pure amount of information I was having crammed my way. The gist? No mutants, no looming WW III of humans vs mutants. Just normal.

"Do you know Charles Xavier?" I interrupted, earning a glare from my mother.

"He won the 1994 Nobel Science prize. He's going to be speaking at your school tomorrow."

My hand slapped the table. "Yes!" I hissed, starting in on a list of requests. "I need the number of the school secretary, a voice warping system, and Kurt to..." I slowed down when I realized what I was doing. "Opps. Great. No X Jet full of X Men and Hank-tech. Perfect."

"I explained. Now your turn," my mom demanded. "Spill. All. Who was on the phone? What's going on?"

I bit my lip. "From what I can remember, not even thirty minutes ago, I was fighting the US troops for my life in New York. That on the phone there was Bobby, someone with me during this. He watched as I was crushed, which sent me here."

My moms face paled. "But why? How?"

"The beginning?" At her nod, I groaned. "It was after the atomic bombs got dropped on Japan at the end of World War II. The radiation cause evolution to take a super leap. People started getting strange powers. In the sixties, when the US had the embargo line around Cuba, the mutant team known as the X Men, led by 'Professor X,' aka Charles Xavier, a telepath, intercepted a mutant bent on destroying humans. They won, but at the cost of revealing mutants to the world.

"Magneto was one of the X-Men, but he broke off when he chose to kill humans, not try to help them understand who mutants were. Xavier built a school for mutants to be safe. You sent me there when I was twelve. Some of the alumni stayed on, training their powers and becoming X-Men. Magneto started a war. I joined up when I was 16, because it was that bad. When I was 18, all out war was declared on mutants. Both sides were loosing."

"Wait- 18? Katherine, you're 16." My mom looked confused.

I shook my head. "No, I'm 21. Anyway, anyone in New York was fair game. It was kill first, questions later." I grimaced. "The US failed. X-Men worked to save humanity. Magneto and his minions wanted humans dead. And who do they target? X-Men."

"And you can move through walls?" she asked, scratching her wrist.

I put my hand through the microwave. "Anything, actually."

A loud banging in the backyard caused both of us to jump. "Stay here," I hissed, before running right through the wall.

Outside was the strangest sight. Who I picked out instantly was Logan, slashing away at something. That something turned out to be Mystique, shifting from her blue form to a more stealthy carbon copy of... me.

"Logan!" I shouted, and after a hesitation, followed it with, "Mystique! Cut it out! Call a truce!"

Logan froze. "Kitty?" he growled out.

"I know, I'm not dead, been over this with Iceman. Get inside!" I hissed. "This isn't New York, it's suburbia, and it's about 4 AM!"

Mystique, seeing the change of scenery, vaulted over Logan and darted into the house. I almost had to drag Logan inside. Once I did, my mother assaulted me with questions.

"Who are these people? Are they like you?"

Mystique shifted into my mother. "You tell me," she laughed in my voice.

"I'm gonna kill you, you-" Logan started advancing on Mystique, his claws coming out.

"Woah, woah!" I jumped between them. "This isn't going to turn into a fight, okay? We just want to talk."

Logan growled, and didn't move. "You said something about Iceman?"

"Bobby, yes, Bobby," I babbled. "I, uh, called him. Yes! Called him a minute ago. He's in Boston. Nobody's heard of mutants here."

Logan sent me a glare. His muscles rippled. "How's that possible?"

I swallowed, shifting my weight onto the balls o my feet. "I was thinking something along the lines of alternate universe."

So I guess this was movie based. Anyway, enjoy, adopt, make a story, I don't care.

Wryder