Title: Savin' Me

Author: UnderThePaleMoonlight

Summary: A girl runs away from her old life once she discovers she's a mutant. She meets an extraordinary gentleman, joins him, and meets an even more extraordinary boy. She wants to help him, but maybe he's not the only one who needs saving. . .

Setting: Post X2 through post X3.

Pairings: Pyro/OC, slight Magneto/Mystique, slight Gambit/OC

Rated for:Language and mature content in future chapters.

A/N: Okay, so my first story on Fanfic! Please read and review. No flames, please! If there's something you don't like, make it constructive criticism. I'm not going to waste my time reading someone's bitch-fest. Please enjoy! It took me awhile to get this first chapter written, but I'm pretty happy with it  Thanks and enjoy!

Grand Central Station at 9:27 p.m. was relatively busy. Families on vacation walked about, awestruck by the sheet size and beauty of the historical train station. Businessmen and women alike chatted away on cell phones, suitcases and briefcases in hand as they rushed to catch their late night train. Ladies behind the ticket windows gossiped about whatever the covers of magazines were proclaiming, whether it was the newest celebrity couple or biggest political scandal. It was an average night at Grand Central Station.

In the food court, a teenage girl leaned over the bright, plastic counter of the tiny McDonalds venue. She twirled a piece of blue-streaked black hair around her finger. She glanced at the clock, groaning when she saw that she still had a half-hour left until her shift was over. Bored, she played with the silver stud in her nose. She counted the seconds passing in her head. She jingled the keys that hung from her belt loop. She adjusted her nametag, the name Andrea displayed in big, bold letters. She sighed and looked at the clock again. A minute and twenty four seconds had passed.

Andrea was bored. She banged her head against the counter in frustration and huffed.

Footsteps.

Her head shot up. They were very soft, almost silent, but she heard them. Her black eyes darted around for wherever the mysterious footsteps came from.

The answer was right in front of her, and approaching.

It was a girl, She looked about her age. Seventeen, maybe eighteen. A bright green backpack was slung over her thin shoulder. She looked tired, that much was obvious.

She stood up straight and quickly signed into the register. She put on the trademark, McDonalds' employee smile. "Welcome to McDonalds. What can I get for you?"

She wanted to puke every time she asked that stupid question.

The girl looked at the menu thoughtfully. Andrea had to admit one thing: she was gorgeous. The natural beauty type, the perfect girl-next-door. Her skin was fair, flawless, and glowing. which she immediately envied her for. Andrea's skin had always been very pale and lusterless, something she always hated. Her chestnut colored hair was long and curly, pulled back in a ponytail at that moment. She had big brown eyes that were wide-eyed and innocent. She wore a form-fitting sweater that flaunted her lean figure, her full lips were twisted into a soft frown as she contemplated what to order, and to top it all off, she was the perfect height. Something along 5' 7" or 5' 8".

The mystery girl's eyes shifted from the menu to Andrea. "May I just have a plain cheeseburger, fries, and a water, please?" she asked quietly.

She had a very, very light Southern accent. So light Andrea almost didn't hear it, only when her r's turned to ah's did she hear the soft twang.

Andrea stabbed at the computer screen as she punched in her order. The girl was so sickeningly perfect. "Your total's $3.51."

She reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a crinkled five-dollar bill. Andrea snatched it out of her hand and quickly gave the mystery girl her change. There was something about her that was. . .odd. "Fifty-two, three, four, five, sixty, seventy, seventy-five, four, and five dollars is your change," she recited in a monotone voice, "Here's your receipt. You have a good evening." She gave Andrea a smile and a quiet "thank you" before sitting down at one of the nearby tables.

Andrea studied her closely. She set her backpack down on the table and almost fell into the metal chair. Her eyes were large and frightened, constantly darting around the food court as if looking for someone. She kept wringing her hands together and playing with a single chestnut curl. All signs of nervousness. It didn't take a psychologist to see that she was clearly scared.

"Hey Andie!" Juan, her co-worker, handed her a brown paper bag and cup of water. "For the girlie out there," she told her while pointing to the person in question. She nodded to him.

"Hey!" The mystery girl jumped in her chair and gripped the sides in fear. Andrea held her hands up apologetically and pointed at the waiting bag of food. "Here's your burger and fries."

Her hands relaxed as she pushed herself up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She picked up the bag and flashed a weak smile at her and Juan. "Thank you very much," she called out in an airy voice, before sharply turning on her heel and walking away.

Andrea looked at Juan and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Okay, is it just me, or was there something. . .not right about that chick?" she asked while reaching for a bucket of sanitizer to clean the counter with.

Juan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His eyes were locked in the direction the girl had walked. "No, I thought so too. She looked scared." He scratched his head and shrugged. "Maybe she's a runaway."

Andrea rubbed at a spot on the counter and shrugged in response. He's probably right. Nothing more than a runaway, she thought. Her thoughts turned back to cleaning the counter and floors. Juan disappeared behind the corner.

Probably watching t.v. in the back room. Asshole can't even help me clean. She took the time alone as an opportunity to think, humming songs under her breath as she mopped the floor. Time passed by quickly, and before Andrea knew it, the clock read five minutes until her shift was over. She wiped a hand across her forehead that had a light layer of perspiration, blue and black wisps of hair sticking to her pale skin. She made her way to the back room, ready to clock out and go home for the night-

"Holy shit!" Juan's voice made Andrea jump and shriek in surprise. She clutched her racing heart and opened her mouth to yell at him, but he beat her. "Andie, come here! You're not gonna believe this!"

She growled lightly under her breath and stormed toward the back room. "This better be good, Juan!" She pushed open the slightly ajar door. "What the hell is so important that. . ." She never finished her sentence. Her jaw dropped.

On the little, cheap television set was a picture of the mystery girl herself, chestnut curls and all. It looked like a school picture, with the girl in a sleek, black top and a big smile on her face.

"A Richmond, VA teen has gone missing after a man, who told police that he tried to steal her purse, was attacked and knocked unconscious. James Marshall was found unconscious in an empty alleyway Tuesday afternoon. He was taken to a hospital, where upon waking told police that the young lady he attempted to rob was a mutant. Marshall went on to say that he was attacked by vine-like whips, which slammed him to the pavement and rendered him unconscious. Later that day, Frederick and Brigette Rosenblum, both Richmond doctors, filed a missing person's report for their elder daughter, eighteen year old Ava Rosenblum. Marshall identified Ava as the girl he attempted to rob earlier that day. A national report has been sent out in hopes of finding her. If you have seen her or have any leads as to where she is, please call the Missing Persons' Hotline. . ."

Andrea and Juan turned to look at each other. Both had wide eyes and a shocked expression on their faces. Neither said anything for a minute, the reporters on the t.v. the only people making noise.

Finally, Andrea spoke. "Juan, should we. . .?" She didn't need to say anymore.

"I don't know, Andie. She sounds dangerous."

She bit her lip. She wasn't sure what to do. Her hand slid toward her pocket, where her cell phone sat. She hesitated.

Juan pierced through her with a dark gaze. Next thing she knew, she felt the cool metal of her phone pressed against her cheek.

"Missing Persons' Hotline, how may I help you?" Her fingers nervously played with a blue strand of hair. "Missing Persons' Hotline. Hello? Hello, is anyone there?"

"Hi. That girl that was just on the news? The one from Richmond? I think I just saw her."

Ava walked briskly, trying to find a place to stay for the night and out of the cold, New York air. Her fair cheeks were brushed with red, as was the tip of her nose. She pulled her lightweight jacket closer to her body, hoping to stay warm. It did no good. Her Southern blood couldn't handle New York weather.

Her mind was all jumbled. She had tried several times on the long train ride to New York to make sense of recent events, but found herself confused and scared. Confused of what exactly happened when the man attempted to steal her purse. Scared of what New York held for her.

Ava found herself in the middle of a large crowd waiting to cross the street. She pressed the button to change the light and waited patiently. She rubbed her arms for warmth. Still no luck. Her breath was visible, appearing in small, white puffs.

She had the odd feeling she was being watched.

Glancing around, her brown eyes locked with those of an older man, clearly forty-something. He was dressed in a slightly wrinkled business suit, probably a lawyer or something along those lines. His glazed over eyes clearly traveled down her body, then back up before giving Ava a crooked, drunk smile. She shuddered, not sure whether it was from the cold or the man's lustful stare. Relief washed over her as the crowd moved ahead, causing said man to fall behind and become lost in the sea of faces.

Making it across safely, Ava broke out of the crowd and headed away. She didn't feel safe in such a large group, strangely enough. She was always one to keep to herself. The quintessential quiet and reserved Southern belle. She scanned her current surroundings; a semi-busy street, with mostly flats and apartments. It was quiet. Ava liked quiet. Her Puma-clad feet were silent against the concrete, making her nothing more than a passing shadow to the naked eye.

A breeze blew by, playing with her hair. She shivered; it was much too cold to be walking. Her backpack felt as though it weighed a ton, despite the small amount of things she had packed. She needed to find someplace to stop and rest.

Somewhere warm, she thought before her stomach growled. Ava grimaced. And with food. Though she had already inhaled her McDonalds' meal earlier, she didn't eat much on the day long train ride. Her hunger had set in once she reached New York City.

Ava walked a little faster, desperate to escape the cold. She searched frantically for somewhere, anywhere. Her luck came a right time; a little ways ahead, at the corner, was a sort of diner. Maybe not a five star hotel, but it would certainly do. Maybe someone who worked there would let her stay the night at their home. Her hopes high, Ava sprinted up the sidewalk as she let the track star in her take over. Lights rushed passed her and her breath was a cloud around her face. She didn't stop until her hand gripped the frozen metal of the diner door handle.

She pulled the door opened, immediately greeted by the ding of a bell and a warm rush of air. Her red nose and cheeks welcomed the warm diner with a tingling that stung. Walking inside, she was relieved to see the place relatively empty, with only the head waitress behind the counter and a couple of customers scattered about. She couldn't help but wince as her whole body tingled at the warmth of the diner. Running a hand through her windblown curls, she found a booth next to the window and took a seat. Her backpack occupied the spot across from her, the green material slightly weathered.

I need to get a new backpack soon.

A buxom older lady approached Ava with her notepad already out and ready. She wore the stereotypical waitress outfit, like in the movies. Her graying brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She grinned. "Hey there, sweetheart. What can I getcha?"

"Do you have any soup, by chance?"

The waitress nodded while writing on the notepad. "Yep. Is chicken noodle okay with you, darlin'?"

Ava smiled back. Her favorite. "Yes, that's perfect. Could I also have a grilled cheese sandwich, please?"

The waitress nodded again, finishing Ava's order with a sharp period. "Lemme get that started for ya. I'm Sherri, by the way. Just holler if you need anything." She left Ava to her own thoughts.

She shifted on the vinyl cushion and sighed. Sherri seemed nice enough. Nice enough to let a teenage girl stay with her, possibly? Ava held her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes furiously. She had to stay awake. She needed to find a place for the night. Tomorrow, she would go searching for an apartment, maybe look for a job if she was up to it.

The New York skyline jumped out at her through the dingy window. The city was lit up like a Christmas tree. Though Richmond was a good sized place, it couldn't compare. . .

Back in Richmond, she was pretty well-known. Both her parents were famous, successful doctors and scientists. At school, she was a member of the honor choir, a cheerleader during football and basketball seasons, a runner during track season, all while maintaining a 4.3 GPA and being valedictorian of her class. She was going to graduate high school in a few months, spend her summer packing and preparing for college, then start school at UC Berkeley. Everything had been so perfect.

And yet, the fact that New York City made her feel so small and insignificant comforted her more than anything. Let the scandalous politicians and well to-do uptown folk have the spotlight, she thought lowly. She could start over new, be insignificant, live a normal life. Well, maybe as normal a life as possible for me, she thought. A small smile played on her lips.

The first real smile for her in the last couple of days.

The clinking of porcelain against metal broke her train of thought. She saw Sherri from the corner of her eye. In front of her was a giant bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup and a plate with a hot grilled cheese sandwich.

"Here y'are, sweetheart." Ava's only response was picking up the sizzling sandwich and taking a big bite. The melted cheese burned her tongue, but she was too tired and too hungry to care. She slurped her soup and let the scalding liquid slide down her throat.

Sherri only raised a penciled-in eyebrow. "Hungry, aren't we?" she asked in an amused tone.

Ava stopped eating, swallowing before answering, "If you only knew."

The waitress gave a hearty chuckle and walked away, leaving Ava to enjoy her meal. Her stomach slowly, but surely, was filled passed its breaking point. Within ten minutes, both Ava's plate and bowl were clean. She fell back in her seat sighing, stomach bulging and satisfied. Her eyelids drooped slightly.

Shouldn't have eaten so much. I'm going to pass out any second now-

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of something being placed in front of her. She thought it was her check, but was surprised to see a mug. Nothing special, just a plain white mug with steam rising from the brim. The familiar scent of Lipton tea filled her nose.

I didn't order tea. . .did I? She went over her order in her head. No, I didn't order any tea.

She swiveled her head to look at Sherri, who had just turned to walk off. "M'am, I didn't order this," she explained with a half-smile. Maybe it was just age catching up with her.

"I know, darlin'. The gentleman over there did."

A/N: Little cliffhanger! Who is said gentleman? Wait and see until next time! Please review! It's greatly appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!