Insert standard disclaimer here. Don't own anything.
Dawn sped up, looking cautiously over her shoulder. Sure enough, the footsteps sped up with her.
Damn.
She knew better than to walk around Sunnydale at night, she did. She'd just gotten caught up with Janet, and she hadn't wanted to bother Giles about picking her up. Buffy certainly couldn't drive her. It was a five minute walk, she'd be fine. Except, of course, that this was Sunnydale, and there couldn't be any such thing as good luck.
She fumbled in her purse for her stake, using a word that Xander used when he saw the windows had been smashed for the fourth time that month when she dropped it and it rolled off the sidewalk and into the street
That, obviously, had to be when the idiot fledgling that had been following her decided to step out.
"Don't say anything." Dawn ordered it, bending down and reaching for her stake. "Not a word."
The fledgling paused for a moment, waiting. Then it frowned. "Hey! I don't have to listen to you!"
"Great observation. Oh, damn." She stared, partly in irritation, and partly in horror, as her stake rolled into the drain. "Buffy, this would be a great time for a rescue." She muttered, waiting in vain for her sister to magically know she was in trouble and save her.
No such luck. Stupid hellmouth. It advanced on her, fangs bared, and even through her terror she rolled her eyes at its crappy intimidation techniques. She flung her hands up in a futile effort to ward the thing off- until it proved to be not-so-futile.
Her vision went green as jets of green flame shot out of her hands, pushing the fledgling backwards. Not taking a moment to appreciate her random good fortune, Dawn ran.
Her luck seemed a little less lucky when she reached the house and her hands wouldn't stop glowing and occasionally throwing off defiant little emerald spurts when she tried to make it go away
"Damn!" She cautiously entered, looking around and sticking her hands in her pockets in a futile effort to hide the glow.
"Dawn?" Buffy called, walking into the living room. "Where have you-what's with your hands?"
"I dunno! I was just walking, and there was this vamp, and then they just started glowing! and flaming! And then it just came out, and it pushed the vamp, and then I ran. Buffy, what's going on?" Dawn could hear the pitch of her voice rising, but she couldn't seem to stop it.
"Calm down, Dawnie." Putting a hand on her sister's shoulder, Buffy yelled up the stairs, "Tara, can you come down a minute?"
A moment later, the Wiccan poked her head around the stairs. "Yes? Oh, Dawnie. Your hands."
"That's the problem. Can you figure out what's causing it?" Buffy asked.
Tara did the quick mental shift that allowed her to see people's auras. "It's not the Key. Or any type of magic I've ever seen."
"Buffy?" Dawn's voice was small. "Could I be... a mutant? Is that even possible?"
Her sister nodded. "We'd better call Scott.'"
She did, and the two spoke in muted tones for long hours. Buffy kept sneaking what she thought were discreet glances at her sister, until Dawn was fed up enough with it to stomp to her room.
Dawn didn't want to go live with Scott. Sure, that's what Buffy and he had decided would be best for her, seeing as her hands had taken all night to stop glowing, but she didn't want to go.
She'd known Scott as a child—or at least the monks had inserted the memories of him into her head—but he'd never been particularly close to either of them. The last time she'd seen him had been at her mom's funeral. She remembered him as a quiet boy from when he visited with them from foster homes, oddly uncomfortable with adults. Mom had wanted to adopt him but Dad hadn't, and after Dad left, they hadn't the means to adopt another child, especially a high-maintenance one like her cousin. After the crash that had killed his parents he'd needed medications for migraines, sleeping pills, and large amounts of therapy. There was no way an art gallery owner with two other children could afford that.
When the quiet knock came at the door, the entire Scooby gang was ready and smiling. Buffy slowly crossed to the door to let her cousin in, pasting a sugary smile on her face.
That dropped off her face when she saw him. Everyone's smiles faltered, seeing him. He was clean-shaven, dressed in his customary slacks and turtleneck; it wasn't that. His odd, ever-present red shades did little to conceal the hollows under his eyes, and he'd obviously lost a lot of weight since his clothes were bought, weight he couldn't afford to lose. His cheekbones, always evident, were jutting out of his face. Tara gasped; the man's aura practically screamed of crushing grief.
When the other man walked in after Scott, their confusion grew. He was obviously uncomfortable in the house, wearing jeans, a white tank, and a brown bomber jacket.
"Logan." The new man stuck out his hand.
Buffy shook it briefly. "Professor Xavier sent you to make sure Dawnie made it?"
Logan's eyes flicked briefly to Scott. "Somethin' like that."
After a gentle nudge from Logan, Scott shook Buffy's hand, cringing a little when she turned it into a hug. She had to stand on tiptoe to even reach him, and she held on much too long for comfort.
Scott and Logan faded into the background as Dawn gave out last, desperate hugs, bringing her bags outside and waiting patiently by the door.
Out of all the ways to get to her new school, she wasn't expecting a military-grade private plane.
"A Blackbird." Scott said proudly, running a hand over the console.
Scott piloted it, a fierce grin looking almost alien on his face. A small smile played along Logan's lips as he watched the other man.
"You really care about him, huh?" Dawn commented, sitting next to him.
Logan looked at her, startled, and took a moment to respond. "Cyke's been through a lot. It's nice to see him happy. Until we land, anyway."
"What happened?"
"That ain't my story to tell." He said with finality.
When they arrived, there was a blonde boy about her age waiting at the gate, a gloved brunette with white bangs holding his hand. "Hey, Mr. Summers, Logan." He greeted them. "Hey, new kid."
"Dawn Summers." She introduced herself. At his look, she said, "Cousin."
"I'm Bobby Drake." He said. "This is Rogue."
"Hi." Rogue said, a soft southern accent shading her words.
"Rogue, Dawn will be your roommate. Take her bags, please?" Scott's voice had gone back to the flat inflectionless tone from before.
Both the kids had unshielded pity in their eyes; she couldn't imagine he'd missed it. "Sure, Mr. Summers."
Scott climbed slowly out of the car, sticking his hands in his pockets as he half-stumbled into the building.
"He ain't gettin' better, is he." Rogue said to Bobby, seemingly forgetting Dawn's presence.
Bobby's face wasn't hopeful when he replied. "He has to."
Their faces registered only slight surprise when Logan jumped out, then followed Scott inside.
Dawn managed to hold her tongue until after Bobby and Rogue had conscripted their friends to carry her bags inside, introduced herself, explained her relation to Scott, and shooed them all out. Then she was entirely out of patience, and asked, "What happened here?"
Rogue and Bobby exchanged glances.
"To Mr. Summers?" Bobby offered.
Dawn fixed him with her best Buffy's can-you-really-be-that-stupid look. He cringed. "There's bullet holes in the wall, and the younger kids are looking at me like I'm going to eat them. The older ones are still flinching at off noises, and they're all moving closer when they see me. What. Happened."
Before Alkali Lake, and his parents' house, Bobby might have folded at that. Before Rogue's time on the road, and Magneto's murder attempt, she might have let the intimidation slide.
"Back off, Dawn." Rogue snapped. "You relation ta Mr. Summers don't give ya the right to waltz in here an' demand answers."
Dawn looked down. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Bobby intervened. "We're all a little on edge." There was a brief silence. "We're probably not the best people to explain."
"I just need something, Bobby. Scott looks like…"
"He'd rather follow Jean into the grave? Like he already did?" Bobby offered. "Yeah, we know."
Dawn paused. Okay, suicidal wasn't how she'd put it, but now that Bobby had suggested it… "Yeah." And that was the missing puzzle piece. Jean. The redheaded woman that had been standing at Scott's side at Mom's funeral; Dawn hadn't really been paying attention at the time. "How did it happen?"
This time, the kids explained, the words tripping over themselves trying to get out faster, Rogue and Bobby talking over each other to tell their own perspectives, telling what the other children had said about their experiences. They didn't even think about the fact that the X-Men were supposed to be secret. When they got to Jean's death, they slowed. Rogue took over, voice somber and quiet.
"And Mr. Summers just ain't been right since." Rogue finished. "Logan's been tryin' ta help him; we all have, but…"
"It's hard." Bobby continued. "They were linked mentally. He felt her die. I heard Ms. Munroe and the professor talking, and they said there was a good chance he could have gone crazy when she died."
"Damn." Dawn said, with feeling.
"Pretty much."
Professor Xavier was the primary teacher of controlling childrens' powers, but Ms. Munroe would often take beginners with volatile powers like Dawn.
"Try to bring the fire to the surface." She instructed. "You said you saw a slight green film over your vision?"
"Yep."
"Try to see that again." Dawn did, but soon her attention wandered to her sister, her cousin, her friends back home, hey, how was the hellmouth doing...pretty much anywhere but where she was. "Dawn!" Ms. Munroe snapped.
Dawn fell back to earth. "Sorry."
The white-haired woman inclined her head in acceptance. She didn't snap often, but the remaining staff had all been stretched thin since Jean's death.
"It is alright, but try to focus, Dawn. I understand this is difficult, but it is important. Now, concentrate on the green fire. What shade was it, exactly? How did it feel?"
Emerald. Warm. Flickering across her skin, flowing like the ocean in her eyes.
"Very good." Ms. Munroe said, slowly, soothingly. "Now, open your eyes."
Dawn did. Then gasped, and the green flames covering her hands promptly flickered and died.
"Damn!"
The weather working mutant smiled. "It is quite alright, Dawn. You did very well for your first time."
"Thanks, Ms. Munroe."
"Continue to practice. I will see you tomorrow."
Dawn picked up her books, smiled, and left the room.
It had been easy to forget that Scott even lived at the school, when she wasn't in math class, listening to his steady, lifeless lectures about geometry. She didn't take his shop class, but she heard he became almost animated when talking about the Blackbird. He skulked in his room, missed more meals than he came to and left early when he did, and had stopped making his nightly rounds of the school. They just didn't see him.
As soon as Dawn actually remembered her cousin, she promptly made up her mind to go see him, to try and help him out of the pit of grief he lived in. She ignored the fact that when such attempts had been made after her mother died, she'd wanted to—and had—smacked the person responsible.
After getting directions and a pitying look from one of her classmates, she made her way up to what used to be Scott and Jean's room, and knocked. There was no response.
After a few minutes of knocking and being ignored—she could hear him moving around—she just picked the lock and walked in. Sometimes the whole irresponsible, rebellious youth thing did come in handy.
Scott stood on the edge of his balcony, staring over the grounds. He swung his legs over.
Dawn quietly stepped back outside, gently shutting the door behind her.
Then she freaked for a couple second, and sprinted to Logan's room. Please be in, please be in, please be in. She chanted.
To her relief, he was.
"Logan!" She gasped, bursting in. "How closely have you been watching Scott?"
"Pretty close, kid. Why?" The feral was lounging on his bed.
She glared. "Cause he's sitting on the edge of his balcony, and it doesn't look like he's going to stay there."
Logan's eyes widened, and he rolled off the bed and ran. She followed.
She might have felt guilty about watching Logan and Scott fight, but she would not let someone else leave her.
Logan burst it, dragging Scott off the edge.
"Logan! What the hell?" Her cousin snapped.
Logan grabbed him by the front of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. "You ain't allowed to leave. Not now."
"Why not?" In contrast to Logan's heated growl, Scott spoke casually, calmly. "You know all those people who talk about their 'better half'? Mine's gone, Logan. Jean was it for me. And she's gone."
"But you ain't! She'd want you to live."
Scott just shook his head, looking at Logan as if he was a particularly disappointing pupil. "She killed herself. Why can't I?"
Logan's hands dropped, and he sagged for a moment.
Then he punched Scott in the face.
The younger man's head whipped to the side with the blow, and he stared for a moment, then hit back. The two traded blows for a while, laced with biting insults, but even Dawn could see Scott didn't have a chance.
His specialty was long-distance fighting, and even though he knew multiple martial arts styles and had his skills from the streets, grief, anger, and a deep rooted caution of his glasses robbed Scott of his edge. Logan had made his living in fights like these, and he wasn't weak with hunger and fatigue.
Eventually, it ended; Logan knelt on Scott's wrists, pinning him to the ground, red glasses across the room. "You ain't gonna leave us, you hear?" Logan punctuated his words with not particularly gentle punches. "We need you. The kids need you. You ever stop to think 'bout what this would do to Chuck? You're all he has, Cyke."
Scott trembled, and his breath came in short, harsh gasps. "She's gone, Logan."
"I know." The older man let him up, glaring at Dawn until she sheepishly walked out.
Logan continued to hold the grieving mutant, allowing his own tears to fall only after the young Summers girl had left. Only idiots thought men didn't cry when they'd lost someone they loved, and whatever Cyke thought, he had loved Jeannie. Not like Cyke had; that type of love came about once in a lifetime, and he could recognize the difference, but he loved her in his own way.
He noticed only after a time that he couldn't smell tears on Cyke. Of course; the beams would destroy them before they left the mutant's eyes. He probably hadn't been able to cry for close to twenty years. That had to be rough.
Eventually, they both calmed and drew away from each other, straightening clothes and wiping faces, avoiding each other's eyes.
"She didn't kill herself." Logan said, finally breaking the silence.
"Didn't she? She didn't have to go outside to lift the plane or split the water. Why'd she even leave the plane?"
"Dunno." He paused. "She prob'ly wasn't thinkin' too clearly. There's a reason you command, Cyke. That kinda clear head under stress ain't too common."
Scott looked up, startled at the compliment, "So, you're saying it was… an accident."
"Kinda."
There was a long pause, then finally, Scott spoke. "Thanks, I guess."
"Don't try it again."
"I won't."
"Good." There was an awkward silence. "You're comin' to dinner tonight." Then he left.
Well. Scott moved his glasses and rubbed underneath. That was rather embarrassing, though his attempt and subsequent breakdown were probably long overdue.
Of course, if he'd actually wanted to kill himself, he had enough smack and scotch secreted away in his room to slam himself into a fatal coma without anyone the wiser.
He'd save that for later.
Just like he had for the last fifteen years. It was just in case.
Dawn was practicing controlling her mutation by herself when she finally disconnected the fire from her body entirely. It hovered above her cupped hands, a roiling, glowing, green globe. She concentrated on it; go, she urged. Go.
A moment later, it crashed into the wall, narrowly missing destroying a picture of her mom. The dent she'd made was pretty impressive, though.
Ms. Munroe came running in. "Dawn! What happened?"
"I threw my fire." She said sheepishly, pointing to the wall. The African mutant crossed the room, examining the dent.
"Odd. It appears to have physical form, similar to Scott's beams."
"But more… moldable." Dawn agreed. "It shapes itself. It was round!" She beamed.
Ms. Munroe regarded her with deep, ebony eyes. "Can you create shapes such as nets?"
"I can try."
She concentrated, and sure enough, she could. And when she threw it over Ms. Munroe, it affected the woman just as a real net would have. Just, you know, made out of green fire. A moment later, her concentration faltered, and it disappeared.
"Very good." Dawn was praised. "Continue to practice, Dawn."
Her self-defense lessons with Logan weren't going anywhere near as well. She had some experience with magic, and her mutation wasn't that different. Her being the Key was probably connected to how strong her mutation was, now that she thought about it. If it wasn't the Key leaking out that they assumed was a mutation, anyway.
While she had staked a vampire before, it was only one time. And apparently, Buffy's slayer fighting skills hadn't been passed on to Dawn. Unfortunately, since she still hadn't managed to land a blow on Logan.
"You're doin' good, kid." Logan said, handing her a water bottle.
She glared, twisting off the cap and taking a long gulp. "Good? How, exactly, was that good? You whupped my ass!"
"One of us here is the fightin' instructor, and it ain't you. It's my job, kid."
"Still." She grumbled.
"Look, kid,"
"Dawn." She corrected. "Not 'kid'."
Logan raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say. Dawn, you're a natural at fightin'. You just need practice; come down here nights. Most times, some of the Juniors'll be here."
"Juniors?" Dawn asked, fighting to keep an innocent look on her face.
From the look on Logan's face, she hadn't succeeded. "Kids."
He left.
But she took his advice, and sure enough, Rogue, Bobby, and a few others; Piotr, Kitty, Jubilee, were often there, sparring.
"No powers." Bobby snapped, as Piotr half-shifted into steel.
"My apologies." Piotr said, kicking the smaller boy most of the way across the room. Bobby smacked his hands against the wall as he hit, pushing himself away and landing on his feet.
"Hey." Dawn said, from the doorway.
They paused, and Rogue stepped forwards. "Hey. Logan send ya?"
"Yeps."
The others relaxed. "Welcome." Bobby said. "Listen; no powers here, that's for the practice rooms. Here's just physical."
"We'll add them together and practice them combined in the Danger Room." Jubilee added.
"Got it." Dawn smiled, pretending not to notice the glares sent at the Asian girl. "Anyone want to spar?"
"You know, we finally got an even number." Jubilee said. "It's gonna be great to be actually able to all fight at the same time."
She paired Bobby first. The boy was taller than her by about an inch, with about thirty pounds on her. She darted in, got a feel for his style. Pretty straight forward, a mixture of Americanized karate, jujitsu and football-style tackles, with whatever he'd picked up in school-yard brawl thrown in.
Surprisingly to her, she beat him, pinning him with an arm twisted up behind him and a knee on his back.
"Yield." He said. She helped him up.
"I know Logan said you were pretty, you know, good, but damn, girl!" Jubilee congratulated her.
"Thanks." Dawn said, once she'd sorted through what Jubilee had actually said to get to the compliment.
Surprisingly, there was no one leader to the group. They'd obviously all been trained to work together; it was clear to anyone who'd seen such a group in action before, but they organized things in a democratic way. To Dawn, that seemed like a stupid idea that could get them all killed. Buffy was the definite leader of the Scoobies, and though she listened to Giles, hers was always the final call.
"Kitty, pair me?" Dawn asked.
Kitty used a mixture of tai-chi, karate, jujitsu, and some styles Dawn hadn't seen. She beat Dawn eventually, taking her to the mat with an arm twisted up behind her and the short girl's knee in her back, but it took a while.
She paired Rogue next. This girl was interesting; she'd had more combat training than most of the others—multiple martial arts forms—but she also went for pressure points, pulled hair, and bit; skills that only Jubilee was the only other one to use, fighting viciously and raw. Street skills.
Jubilee and Rogue fought dirty, and it was something Dawn had never had to face. The other Scoobies she'd sparred with fought cleanly, like the other students. They were gentle with her in a way these kids weren't, even if they hadn't realized they were even doing it.
A few months later, she had a pretty firm grasp on her powers, and she'd moved up to the middle of the group in hand-to-hand.
She judged herself ready, and went to Scott.
She knocked on the door, and this time he actually answered, shaved and properly dressed. Whatever had passed between him and Logan after she'd left, it'd done both of them a world of good.
"Scott." She said formally, faltering when she saw Logan behind him. "I want into X-Men training."
His answer came fast, obviously without thought. "No. Absolutely not."
"Scott!" She said.
At the same time Logan snapped, "Cyclops." She quieted, and let him continue. "You ain't her cousin, here. You're tryin' to put together a team." He paused. "You know we need another member, now. She's powerful, and she's a good fighter."
Scott closed his eyes behind his glasses. Dawn stood in front of him, so earnest in her blind desire. Buffy would kill him, if anything happened to her.
But they would all die, if they didn't have the members they needed. And she was good. He'd watched them, and she was fast, strong, and agile. Rogue was the only child that could always beat her, and even Logan hadn't been sparse in his praise of the young woman. Her mutation was Alpha level, and Bobby and Rouge were the only Alphas in the Junior X-Men. They needed her; it was as simple as that.
He opened his eyes, and asked her what he asked every prospective trainee. "Why?"
"Do I want to join?" He nodded, and she thought for a moment. "I want to help people. Buffy's always been the one to save people" She missed the look that Scott gave her, "And I'm done being the damsel in distress. I think this is a place I can help out. I'm good at this, Scott, and I don't want to waste my life on, on, boys and stupid homework assignments while my friends are out risking their lives. What if Rogue , or Bobby, or any of them,dies cause I'm not there to watch their backs? I can't let that happen."
There was a long pause.
"We practice every day for half an hour in the mornings, and two hours on the weekends. There will be a uniform waiting for you in the locker room. Think of a codename."
"Thanks." She stepped forwards, grinning. "I"
"Go." Scott ordered, cold. Someday, he might be ordering his student—his cousin—into a deathtrap. "Just go."
She did. Dawn recognized the look on his face; it was all too similar to the one Buffy often wore, after she'd had to make some decision that would weigh on her soul for the rest of her life.
She forgot about the look soon enough, though. "Codename…" She mused. "Rogue, a little help?"
The southern girl rolled over. "What, Dawn?"
"Scott said I could join the Juniors." She took in Rogue's raised brow. "Well, Cyclops did. Scott hates the idea. I'm beginning get there's a difference."
"There is. You'll be a good addition ta the team." Rogue smiled.
"Thanks. Um, can you help me think of a codename?"
"They're usually somethin' 'bout your power. Mr. Summers' is 'cause of his visor, an' Bobby's is cause of his mutation."
"Hmm. Fire, green fire, green," She sat straight up. "Emerald."
Rogue studied her, and remembered the malleable green flames. "It fits ya."
"Thanks." Dawn smiled, and said softly, "Emerald."
Sure enough, there were grey tracksuits and fitted leather one-pieces waiting in a locker marker 'Emerald' less than a week later. That was when she was introduced to the Danger Room.
She was started on basics with Jubilee; no simulations, just the floor disappearing and moving underneath her while the walls shot rubber bullets. She 'died' at least six times before Cyclops called it to a halt.
"Need a bit more practice." She panted, hands braced on her knees.
"That you do."
The others had already been training as a team for weeks, so while they only had to practice three times a week, and on the weekends, she had to practice every single day. On Cyclops' orders; blah. The other rotated, so it was never the same group of people practicing together, but she was always there, listening to Cyclops bark orders and getting torn apart by simulated soldiers. Logan was almost always there, but Storm only trained with them occasionally; she usually practiced with Cyclops later in the day.
The second they walked in the door, two weeks in, a blast of red light sent them all sprawling across the floor.
"Pay more attention." Cyclops said, much too sternly for that early in the morning. "You're all dead."
"That's not fair!" Bobby protested. "We weren't ready." The look Cyclops turned on him made him shut his mouth.
"Do I even need to reply to that comment?"
"No." The younger man replied, mutinously.
"Good. I'll do whatever an enemy might do to take you down, so get used to unfair fighting. Today, you'll decide what we work on." There was a murmur of renewed interest. "Either I can run you through some simulations, or the four of you can try and take me down."
The four exchanged looks; there was really no contest. Dawn spoke for all of them when she said, "You."
"I was hoping you'd say that. We're going to stick with just the room, not put any fancy backgrounds in, okay?" There were nods all around. "Good. Come at me."
He backed up into the corner. With one blast, he'd slammed Rogue against the wall hard enough that she saw stars. When Bobby faltered, looking at her, Cyclops slammed a hand into his gut. Dawn moved just a bit too slow, letting one huge blast knock her back. Kitty took the longest, phasing out of the way, but when she tripped over Dawn, she paused long enough for him to joint lock her.
"Again." They did; the result was the same. Third time; not much better.
"Enough." The X-man said, closing his eyes behind his visor. "What did you do wrong?"
"We failed miserably." Dawn said, irritated.
"You didn't do particularly well, no. What, specifically, allowed one person to take down all four of you that quickly?"
"Well," Kitty said hesitantly, "Bobby and I got taken out because we were looking at Bobby and Rogue."
"Good, Kitty. You got distracted. What else?"
"We were all workin' separately?" Rogue suggested.
"Yes. You should have protected Rogue; she was the only one here who could take me out. I'm stronger, I'm faster, and I've got more experience than all of you put together, but if you make sure she gets to them, Rogue can take anyone out. Let's go again."
This time, less than a minute in, Cyclops had Bobby pressed to him, hands around his head. "One move and I can break his neck." He called. The others hesitated, looking at him, and he exploded into motion. Bobby was dropped, 'dead', and the others were taken out within seconds. "What happened this time?"
"Hostage situation." Dawn said, glaring. "That's not fair." She'd been used as a hostage against Buffy enough times to hate the idea.
"I just told you I'd use unfair tactics. You think they're not going to use your loyalty against you? If there's a hostage situation, you have three options. One, let him die." He looked them over, took in their shocked and mutinous expressions. "If any of you were fine with that option, you'd be off the team in seconds. Two, you can try and take me out before I kill him. It's a gamble, but sometimes it's worth the risk. Three, you can stop fighting, and do whatever I want you to."
There was a couple moment of tense silence while they digested this. "What would ya do?" Rogue asked, quietly.
"It depends. I'd probably go with the third option. Maybe the second, if I saw an opening, but I'd never risk the hostage's life."
"But you'd risk yours?" Dawn winced as Rogue asked the question; couldn't she see that Scott didn't care about his own life? He'd never been as careful as he should, but when Jean was alive… well, she wasn't anymore.
"Of course." His tone went brisk again, changing the subject. "What have you seen me do at the beginning of all of these fights?"
He could see the lightbulb go off over Dawn's head. "You put your back to the wall."
"Close. I went into a corner. When I'm fighting with someone, or against only one opponent, I don't. Can you tell me why?"
"To protect your back?" Bobby hazarded a guess.
"My back and my sides. If someone comes after me at a ninety degree angle, I can't see them." He tapped his visor. "I have absolutely no peripheral vision with this thing. When I'm alone, or fighting with someone who's not used to me, I'm uniquely vulnerable from the sides. If I'm in the corner, it can't be taken advantage of." He could see them thinking. "I'm going to go the other side of the room and let you plan for five minutes, and then we'll come back." He did.
"If we block off the corner," Dawn started, "Kitty, you drive him away from it. Bobby, you protect Rogue and come in from the side. I'll try and keep him occupied from the front, but if that doesn't work, Bobby, you come and help me." The others nodded, accepting his lead. "Let's do this!"
Cyclops could hear them, of course. He had extremely good hearing, and the Danger Room echoed. It was a good plan, but an obvious one. Still, he let them corner him, and though all his instincts screamed against it, let Rogue place a hand on the back of his neck.
Too quickly for her deadly skin to register, he pulled away. "Nicely done." He could see them beaming. "Let's watch that back."
A large screen appeared in the middle of the room, and their fight, shown from multiple angles, appeared on it. In viewing, it was rather obvious that their leader knew what was going on. His head swiveled, and he obviously tensed when Rogue came up behind him.
"You let us win!" Bobby protested.
"Of course I did. It was a good plan, but I've been doing this a long time. You're only beginning. Did you really expect to win?" They grumbled. "Go get cleaned up."
"Dawn!" Ms. Munroe called across the rec room. "There is the phone for you."
Dawn sighed, marked her page in the book Professor Xavier was making her read, and stood up. "Coming!"
"Hey, Dawnie." The voice on the other end greeted her.
"Buffy!" It had taken her a moment to respond; her sister seemed so far away from the life she was currently leading. "What's up?"
"Just wanted to check on you. How are you?"
"Great." Dawn looked up to see Rogue staring at her, concerned. 'Sister', she mouthed, shooting her friends a thumbs-up. "Um, yeah. Classes are fun. Scott's good." She was also training to be a vigilante evil-mutant fighter, but hey. She wasn't going to tell Buffy that; and that thought gave her pause. When had she started keeping secrets this big from her sister? "My roommate's a nice girl; Marie."
She shot Rogue an apologetic look. Buffy would freak if she found out her roommate went by 'Rouge'. Think she was some drug dealer or vampire or something.
"You've made new friends?"
"Yeah, Marie's been great about letting me tag along. I've gotten close to most of her old friends." Gotten really good at ordering them out of life-or-death situations too.
"Dawn…" Buffy's tone was suspicious, and Dawn's heart nearly stopped. There was no way for Buffy to have guessed. Not one. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
She laughed in relief. "No! Marie and Kitty are dating the two guys in my group, Buffy. Besides, I'm doing other things. The nurse" or lack of one, "Is letting me learn some stuff." Mostly when one of the X-Men was half-dead and Scott's rudimentary skills weren't enough. They still hadn't replaced Jean. "I might want to go into nursing."
"Good for you." Suspicions diverted, she and Buffy chatted for a few minutes before Rogue called for her across the room.
"Oh, sorry. Got to go, Buffy."
"Bye, Dawnie."
She hung up the phone.
"What'd you need, Rogue?"
Rogue smiled unapologetically. "Nothin'. You were just startin' to look desperate."
"Thanks for that." Dawn flopped back into her chair, opening her book. Then her expression of thanks turned into dismay. "Oh, damn. Now I have to read this!"
A few weeks in, Scott, Dawn, Rogue, Piotr, and Bobby were in a simulated alleyway, Friends of Humanity shooting from the windows.
Scott looked the younger group over, taking in the way their eyes flicked to him every few seconds, waiting for orders. No, that would never do. He stepped out from his cover, allowing a bullet - rubber, of course- to hit him in the chest.
Those things still hurt like hell.
Dawn turned at his faint cry, saw the simulated blood spurting from her cousin's chest.
The others were looking at each other with varying expressions of panic and confusion. She resisted a moment of stark terror; she didn't have time for it. "Colossus, cover Rogue. Iceman, you and I take down the gunmen." They immediately obeyed, grateful for some type of direction.
Colossus shifted to steel, standing in front of Rogue. Dawn and Iceman pressed against opposing sides of the alley, and when Dawn chopped a hand down, they acted. Iceman shot streams of ice at the windows, and Dawn sent ropes to pull the guns out of their hands.
They won. There was an expectant pause before Bobby started cheering. The others joined in, though slightly less enthusiastically.
"Good." Cyclops commended them, wincing slightly as he moved his ribs the wrong way. He was going to have a nasty bruise, that was for sure. "Emerald, you've got a gift for command."
Colossus spoke up quietly, Russian accent thick. "She should take permanent command."
"Yeah."Bobby agreed.
"Rogue?" Cyclops turned his visored gaze to the southern girl.
She looked Dawn up and down with deep, unreadable brown eyes. "I agree."
Cyclops gave her a mocking half-bow. "Welcome to command. I wish you all the joy that comes with it. Follow me."
She did, sitting down in front of his desk, both of them still in the skin-tight black leather of the X-Men. And it was a good thing, in a way, though it wasn't as physically comfortable as her civilian clothes; it clothed her in the mantle of 'Emerald', and he in 'Cyclops'. It took away the fact that they were cousins, that he was her guardian, that they were people and not just soldiers.
"Emerald." Cyclops began, and Dawn sat up a little straighter. "You will be in command of the Juniors, and if I fall, you will be Storm's second-in-command." She felt a little cold at the matter-of-fact way he spoke of his own pending demise. "As it is, in Junior-only simulations, you will be commander. If Storm isn't there, you will be my second." Though his eyes were covered, she could feel his assessing gaze through the red quartz.
"I get it." Dawn said.
He smiled slightly; just a quirk of the side of his mouth. "So eager. On a more personal note, if you intend to embark on a relationship with a member of your team, you'll have to figure out your borders with them. Friendships will be strained by decisions you make on the field. Dawn," He said, destroying the boundaries she'd been hiding behind, "are you sure you want to handle command?" Whether she could was beside the issue.
She gazed at him, blue eyes steely, more reminiscent of himself at her age than he'd ever wanted. "I am."
"Then go." Dawn—Emerald, now—left. He bowed his head; one more decision to weigh on him.
"Cyke." Logan said quietly, entering. "She'll do good."
"I know." Scott's voice was just as quiet. "I'm just hoping it won't destroy her."
Dawn was uncharacteristically nervous when she sat down in the hairdresser's chair. "Something I can move in, but still looks good." She instructed. "I'm starting to teach self-defense, you see, and I have to look the part." She sent the young man cutting her hair a reassuring smile.
He gave her a dubious look, seeing only the young age and bright smile, but when he looked further and saw the wiry muscles and strength, he accepted the story.
When she got back to the school, Kitty gasped, "Dawn! Your hair!"
Dawn grinned. "I know. Isn't it great?"
Logan circled her, taking in the new cut. "Better for fighting."
"Exactly." Her chocolate locks were cut chin length, into a sculpted bob that made her features look more pointed, fiercer. The sides were angled, so they didn't swing into her eyes when she moved.
And it looked damn good.
Buffy had started to watch more television, since Dawn had been taken away. The rest of the Scoobies had taken to hanging at her house even more to make sure she wasn't alone.
So they were all intent on the screen when it switched to the news, and the headline read Mutant Child Attacked! A small girl, no older than six, who had recently been playing with the illusion of dancing teddy bears, lay on the ground, sobbing as she was dragged away from the man that clutched her.
The attacking men wore jackets with Friends of Humanity emblazoned on them; the extremist group the 'Friends of Humanity' that had been attacking demons in Sunnydale recently. They'd been attacking mutants for years, even before they went public, but they'd only recently moved into the hellmouth area.
As they watched, a group of people in tight black leather appeared on the scene. A young woman with braided brown hair ran, literally through the Friends of Humanity, grabbed the girl, and ran back.
And they all recognized the man that covered her with short red blasts, though Buffy's cousin wore a red visor instead of his customary red shades.
"That's Scott." Willow said, surprised.
And the man that covered his back was Logan; the name Scott had used for him, 'Wolverine', made more sense now that they could see that six-inch claws that protruded from his hands.
On the other side of the screen, a blonde boy shooting ice bolts stood back to back with a huge steel man who sent Friends of Humanity flying with one hit from his metal fists.
A white-haired African woman floated over the field, raining lightning bolts down on the men.
A brunette girl with white streaks in her hair and black gloves was next to taller girl with eyes glowing green and short brown hair, who was grinning as she threw green, fiery nets at the Friends of Humanity, trapping them where they stood, or green flaming balls that slammed them backwards. A Friend of Humanity came up to her, grabbing her shoulder, and she twisted in a move that was extremely familiar to Buffy, coming up and breaking the man's arm.
And that green-eyed girl was Dawn.
Within minutes the group of mutants, 'X-Men', the station called them, cleared out, taking the girl with them and leaving the Friends of Humanity scattered around, groaning but mostly alive. The ones that Wolverine encountered tended not to be, but the others were more careful about human lives.
"Was that Dawnie?" Xander asked, brown eyes wide. "Cause that sure looked like Dawnie."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. That was Dawnie."
She called the mansion an hour later. "This is Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters." A slightly accented woman's voice said.
"This is Buffy Summers. I'd like to speak to Dawn Summers."
There was a slight pause. "One moment, please." The sound muted, and if Buffy hadn't had slayer hearing, she probably wouldn't have heard the next. "Emerald!" The woman yelled.
"Coming, Ms. Munroe." Dawn's voice replied, coming closed. "And it's Dawn off the field, please."
"Of course. My apologies."
Buffy could hear the phone passing hands, and Dawn spoke. "Hey, Buffy."
"That was you, on the TV today, wasn't it, 'Emerald'."
"Yeah." Dawn's voice was cold. "Got a problem with that?"
Buffy rubbed her eyes. "I just… Dawnie, I don't want you getting hurt."
"And you think I do? Look, Buffy, you've been saving the world on a regular basis for six years, now. And maybe I can't do that, but I can help save mutants like me. I'm needed here. I command the Junior team, you know." She spoke with pride, and Buffy had to restrain herself from bursting with it. "Scott's been leading all the X-Men since he was my age, and I'll take over, one day. Maybe even teach. I do good work here, like you do there. I'm not your useless sister anymore."
"I don't doubt you do good things there, but you were never useless here." Buffy knew, then, if she tried to force Dawn to give up leading, she'd lose her sister. "Be careful, Dawnie."
"I will. You too."
"Love you."
"Love you, too."
The line disconnected, and Buffy gave it a bittersweet smile. Little Dawnie was all grown up.
There's a longer sequel in the works, so if you enjoyed this one, check it out.
Also, reviews make me insanely happy. There will be dancing, and possibly virtual cookies.