They had no idea what they were doing.

He hadn't been one to talk, much less allow them to know what exactly he was. If anyone other than his friends found out, they'd... he didn't know honestly. It couldn't be any worse then his - childhood? No exactly. This had been the peak of his fortune, to speak honestly. Everyone knew that he was a mutant. That he could teleport, climb walls. They still didn't know... about who he really was. What he was.
He was a monster.
He couldn't bear the thought of so many knowing. He didn't know what he would do.

People would always ask him 'how come you don't do PE? You look so fit.', 'What's wrong with a hug?', 'Where'd that high five go?'. And those were only the few that humored him.

Kitty was there, being held back by the crowd. He could see the scared look on her face. He was scared too.
Pietro had him cornered, in the cafeteria of all places. There were so many watching. He could feel the pit of his stomach drop.
"Pietro, it's too late!" He tried, only to have Lance's hand land on his throat.
He had that 'devil may care' grin on, put he couldn't do anything. If he fought back he'd be suspended. He couldn't risk that, not so close to graduation.
He stared daggers into Lance, but his gaze continued to be ignored.
"There's more to 'im!" He could hear Pietro preaching. He could hear the whispers of concern between his fellow students. What would they do? He could feel it coming. He gasped slightly as Lance's steady hand further crushed his throat.
From the corner of his vision he could see Evan fighting to get closer. He started to franticly shake his head.
"Why?" He could hear Evan ask himself. He could hear. He'd always been able to, with the large pointed elf ears he had. No one could tell though. He hid them under a wave of short choppy, sloppily cut black hair.
"I can do this." He choked. "I can do this."

His eyes darted back and forth. He saw Kitty finally manage to push through. With a quick gush of air Pietro was at his other side, wrestling the one arm with the image inducer onto the wall. He tried to wrench it away, but failed immensely. With a sheer movement the inducer was left shattered on the floor. With that went his confidence. All of the positivity he'd stored up, the feelings that made him the jokester amongst his friends. They all broke, like a glass hitting the floor. He fell to the floor with it.

Lance released his grip, and he fell to his knees, palms on the shining tiled floor.
In the back of his mind he could hear the screams. It was all fuzzy, mixed in with the jeering laughter and pointing fingers from his days in the circus. He remembered it vividly, sitting the cage; waiting to be let out and get on the trapeze although that rarely happened. They called him names like 'demon', 'creature', 'monster'. The children would even dare each other to go up close and touch the bars; as if it was some great feat. He didn't want to harm anyone. It would never be his intention, and it never had been.

He gripped the sides of his head, trying to banish the memories.

He remembered running, always running. It felt like years before he could stop. He could feel his arms and legs aching. He could hear them closing in, the pitchforks and torches they held, roaring fire and glinting, clinking metal. Even further back, the sinking feeling of falling from a bridge, fuzzy vision showing a woman crying high above on a bridge. He felt pain. The sharp crack of leather in the air, trying to shield himself, to explain what he'd done wrong. The ringmaster didn't even think of him as a person. No. As an animal.
He could hear the roars of anger, screams and shouts of surprise. They all compiled into a loud white noise, making him silently cringe. He could barely hear their voices.
"Oh my god, a tail."
"He's blue..."
"Look at it..."

He could in fact now feel the short, short fur on his three fingered palms. He could feel the freezing cold floor, the rushes of air as people tried to get a better look. He could feel his two toed bare feet sliding across the tile, his knees holding him in the small ball that he was. He could feel the tail curling around him protectively, but he knew that wouldn't help.
"Evan! Evan! Get Scott! Hurry!"

He wasn't sad. He wasn't worried. Hell, he wasn't even scared.

He was absolutely terrified.

He could feel himself shivering, his fang like teeth chattering against one another in a solid, all too real fear.

"It's alright. Just get up. Get up! Come on!" He could heard Kitty trying to get him to his feet, but he only curled closer in on himself. He let out a quiet, insecure whimper.
"ich kann nicht..." He tried to say. "ich kann es nicht..."

She couldn't understand, he knew; but he couldn't do it. He was so terrified that the slightest movement would send his world spiraling downhill. He couldn't risk that. He never could. He stayed as still as he could on the floor, his hands wrapped over his head as if to protect himself.
"Come on..." She said breathlessly. He could hear stomping feet nearing as Kitty tried to urge him to his feet. She only managed to get him to take his hands off his head and look at her.
He could see she was scared. He only locked eyes with her for a moment though. The footsteps grew nearer, a crowd of heavy sounding shoes on the floor in the near silence, even though his head was screaming. He cringed, drawing away from here.
"What's happening to it?" Someone asked.

They didn't realize. He didn't either though. To him the sound of footsteps meant pain.
All the sudden a memory flashed before his eyes. He was panicked, and most likely dead. He'd been screaming, pleading, crying and the others were still terrified of him. They'd caught him, tied him to a stake. And now there was a bomb fire at is feet. He could hardly breathe, the smoke kicking up in the air.
"Kurt?..."