I do not own any of the X-Men characters, Misty is my OC

Chapter 1: Trading Schools

She cried and held her arms near her legs almost in a fetal position. The floor made with shiny white tiles was coated with the left over water that poured and leaked out of the silver shower heads, nothing could be heard except a silent sob muffled by the girl's pale arms that rubbed against her busted lip which got washed away from the streaming tears. Water poured from the top, her hair stuck like plaster on her forehead.

She looked up, hearing sounds of footsteps which raced along with her fluttering heartbeats. The door flung open with all of her hope of either being picked on or being in trouble with the higher ups.

"Professor! She's here," shouted a voice who burst through the door, letting the lights in. The hallway light from outside lit the dark place that the frightened was in. A man came walking in and knelt down. His brown hair began to be drizzled by the manmade rain, his sunglasses glowed like headlights, and it was kind of scary. Was he going to take her away? Is it going to be like the men in black? He reached out a hand; a kind smile came through like a little ray of light. "It's okay, you'll be okay," he said reassuringly.

She stared at his hand, her big brown eyes came gushing with more tears and even more when she shut them as hard as she could, causing her to cry harder. The older man didn't know what to do, he wanted to hug the little girl and comfort her but it seemed she was scared of him or at least he thought so.

"Scott!" a voice followed and someone came running in. "Oh, thank God, you found her." The voice belonged to a pretty redhead who knelt right next to Scott. If the girl was younger they could have been her parents.

"I did, but she seems a little shaken up," he explained.

The ginger haired lady then reached out in a similar fashion as Scott had. "Come on, you're safe now." She smiled kindly.

"No! You're gonna take me away!" shouted the girl. Her eyes had only glimpsed briefly but didn't see the hand that reached out and began stroking her wet locks of hair. "No! I-I did something horrible" the girl continued

"Shh," soothed the older female. "He's alright." She added. The girl stopped crying and a sudden calm just swept through her, making her become more relaxed. Finally taking refuge to the offering hand which resulted in a loving hug, the red didn't stop petting her head. The glasses young man turned around, he seemed relieved.

The pair and the girl came out of the wet room being greeted with a man in a wheelchair. "Ah, I see you found our little friend." The girl now calmed, sniffled, her eyes gazed at him. He was a bald man who wore an understanding smile.

"W-what are you guys?" she asked. "Are you like the government people that is gonna take me away?" her voice was full of abnormal worry because she wasn't normally this worried of such events.

The man merely let out a lighthearted chuckle. "I assure you I'm not with the government and neither are my students." He glanced at the two. "Here, come with me," he began to move.

The red let go of the child who then began following the bald man. The two followed with the brunette man asking, "Professor, you think it's okay we speak this outload?"

"Nonsense, Scott, we don't want to make our little friend here feel that we are abducting her." The one called professor smiled, the girl felt a little uneasy of that comment. Catching sight of the girl's uneasiness, the professor added: "We are here because we heard that you, young Misty Anderson, have a special power."

The wheelchair of his came to a sudden stop at a big brown wooden door which was plated, saying Principal Welkin. With another sniffle, Misty took a gulp and opened the door. A woman with a dark purple suit sat at the desk, facing two worried parents. Her hair was wrapped up and she wore dark think framed glasses. A man of tall and sturdy built sat next to a more mature and taller version of Ms. Anderson.

"M-mom? Dad?!" exclaimed the young girl.

"Oh, sweetheart!" the mom spoke with relief. She had been waiting with the principal, tightly holding onto her husband's hand like they were wishing to God to bring their daughter home or in this case, back to them.

"We are ready to make the transaction," said the lady. She fixed her glasses as the Professor wheeled himself inside. The kind redhead followed suit and the one called Scott scanned the area before closing the door.

"What is this about?" asked Misty. Her dried tears were replaced with confusion, she gave another wipe this time her eyes.

"We will handle this, there's no need to be formal, Ms. Welkin," spoke the Professor.

"Well, you can't be too careful. I'm glad you can find more of these special kids," her eyes stared back at Misty. A tint of light speck from the shine which had an abdominal color, it was like a tie-dye eye that reflected Misty's almost uncertain emotions like a mood ring. "I'm also glad that no one got hurt or worse." She sighed getting up, straightening her jacket.

Misty turned, feeling a hand grab hers. "Misty, we are thinking to change up schools," her father spoke. His eyes were filled with concern. Her mother's grip tightened on her, not hurtful but more reassuringly. "We should have done this a long time ago."

"So-so am I going to the nuthouse?" asked Misty, letting go of her mother's secured grasp.

"Oh no, no, oh we should have told her." The mother looked at her husband, still not answering the deeply anxious child.

Scott then came over, grabbing her shoulder. "You aren't going to the nuthouse," his smile gave Misty a sense of warmth.

She looked up, "T-then what? Am I a freak?" she asked.

"You are not a freak," added the taller man. "Right, Jean?"

Jean, the red head, nodded. "You have a gift, Misty, a lovely gift that fits the name you were given."

"So it is for weirdos like me?"

"No, not at all, everyone is born differently. Some with the abilities to draw or sing better, others to be great athletes and you, my dear, are gifted with water," explained the Professor.

"But I drowned that boy!" added Misty.

"Honey, you didn't drown him. It was an accident. We spoke to Ms. Welkin, Tommy is going to be alright," Misty's father said.

"You had no control and you were frightened," Scott injected.

"You mean I was mad," Misty plainly stated. "He called me a freak and I don't know what I did but I saw it…I saw the water dance and it made him drown in the pool."

"Sometimes the mind sees things that it wants to believe, Ms. Misty Anderson. I assure you, he is alright and that is why we are here." The bald man came closer to Misty. "You are no threat. With our school's guidance, you'll learn to control those emotions and your abilities." His eyes told her that he was sure.

"School?" Misty muttered.

"Xavier, I'll make sure the boy is alright as a follow up and make sure this incident didn't happen." The speckled woman said. Her sight was regal but she seemed to genuinely care about Misty.

"Well, then Ms. Anderson, please get packed. We are going to take you far from here," Xavier spoke. "I'm sure you will find our school enlightening."

Scott recoiled his hand, "Misty, right? Do you have any stuff? We are going to be leaving here today."

Today? Already Misty felt that she hurt someone and these people were eager for her to come along with them. They must be either awful people or crazy. "But what about my mom and dad?" Misty asked. "I mean getting a free pass at school is great but will I not see my parents again?" her questions seemed downhearted.

"You'll see them soon," Jean said.

Misty merely looked at them. She didn't really know how to feel, she feared the FBI or the men in black was going to take her…take her from these seemingly dangerous abilities she was cursed with, that she felt she inflicted with another even though he probably deserved it for calling her a freak and knocking her out after her water went out of control. But no, Misty was worried that she might have caused permanent damage.

Her parents hugged her, signing a paper to the principal and quickly said goodbye to their daughter. Her mouth was treated and the man and woman named Jean and Scott led Misty to the big car: a van of some sort, it was black semi cool looking, fitted to be more like a family vehicle.

Xavier stopped and asked Scott who loaded a small duffel bag that Misty's parents happened to pack for her. "Is that everything, Scott?"

Scott just shrugged. "I asked if she had any more, Professor, she just said she got her backpack." Misty insistently grabbed hold of it, feeling the talk about her was more bad than good.

Jean giggled. "He's not that scary, you can relax," she beamed.

Xavier made his rounds near the back and waited until Misty boarded first. "I feel like I'm being sent to boot camp," Misty said.

Xavier just chuckled as he then got loaded into the van; Jean had already buckled herself in the front, handing a towel to Misty so she could dry herself. Scott came in at the driver's seat, turning to the front and adjusting his mirror.

"Well if you not bad, it will be more like fun." Scott said. Misty really didn't like the fact he said that, maybe she will be in for boot camp.

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