Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution, the Marvel comics, or anything that you recognize I suppose.
Summary: Ever since mutants were exposed, a war had been brewing. Now, as it looms just on the horizon, young mutants must make alliances and try to find a way to survive in the crossfire of hatred and discrimination.
Note: This is very AU. It begins with the series, but with a few twists. For one, mutants have been exposed for some time. The only students Xavier has recruited thusfar is Scott and Jean, leaving all of our other favorites to their own devices. A lot of this takes from the comics, which you do not have to know to enjoy this story.
Constructive Criticism is, as always, very much appreciated.
Chapter One : Beginnings
"Mutant detected."
An immediate silence fell over the sunny classroom. Those two simple words were perhaps more terrifying than the idea of an enormous robot, loaded with guns and frightening weapons, outside of the school. Was it really a Sentinel's robotic voice booming in the sky?
Why would a Sentinel be in Bayville?
The young students eyed one another curiously, furtively. Who was it? Who could be classified as a mutant, a dreaded mistake of the gene pool? A few frightened teenagers had frozen, their fear inspired more by the unknown mutant than the hulking machine outside their school blaring commands. One of these girls, pale with fear, stared at her shaking hands. Trying to calm herself, she ran a hand through her red hair.
It couldn't be happening.
This was the day Jean Grey had prayed not to come since she was eight years old.
"Surrender immediately or face immediate capture or destruction."
This could not be happening to her. She chewed nervously on her lip, glancing at her fellow students. Had they guessed yet? Did they know it was her, trying so desperately to hide behind a veil of red hair and shaking hands? She was tempted to search their minds, to see what they could be thinking.
"Maybe it's not in this class." She heard a girl whisper to her neighbor.
It.
Thing.
She had been downgraded to a thing long ago. The word "it", the word "creature", the word "specimen"- none of them bothered her anymore, none of them hurt her in any way. It was a fact of life. She was less than human.
What if it was after Scott, not her? Scott Summers was the only other mutant in this school, wasn't he? She wanted to jump up and run to him, find him and make sure he was alright. He was more level-headed than she was, he could be calm. He would have a plan, some way to save them and leave them unexposed for what they were.
Mutants.
Dirt in the gene pool.
"You have thirty seconds to surrender yourself."
Surrender?
"Twenty eight… Twenty seven…"
She couldn't surrender, couldn't simply offer herself to Bolivar Trask and his lackeys. She wondered if the other students could hear her heart pounding, could smell her fear, could tell by looking at her that she was the "it" causing this distraction. She tried to breathe evenly, tried to seem unaffected by the mass of metal outside Bayville High. Why was it here? What had she done to attract it, what had Scott done?
"Twenty three… Twenty two…"
She wasn't prepared for this.
"Jean!" She looked up as the door crashed into the wall. Scott stood behind it, motioning for her to come. A few girls shrieked in surprise as the uniformed Wolverine and Storm appeared behind Soctt.
"What's going on?" She asked without thinking, terrified, letting her mouth run away with her.
"No time for that Red. We've got about fifteen seconds to get outta here, and I ain't gonna be around to find out what that thing'll do to capture us." The feral man behind her best friend snarled.
"You mean you're a-" Taryn looked horrified, staring at Jean.
She felt her cheeks flush. As if it were something to be embarrassed about. She wanted to shout at her friend. You liked me before, she would yell, you called me your best friend! Why does a little genetic quirk change anything? Why was she ashamed of what she was, who she was? She had no reason. She tried not to think as she hurried past the students, who recoiled as if she were a contagious monster.
"We have to go." Storm ran briskly down the hall, followed by the other three. "That thing isn't going to stop from harming you because you're children."
"Ten… Nine…."
The X-Jet sat calmly on the lawn of the school as if it belonged there, though Jean knew for a fact that it was entirely out of place. A walkway lowered to touch the ground as they reached it. Quickly, the four mutants boarded it.
"Four… Three…"
"What happened?" Scott asked as they took off. Jean fumbled with her buckle with still shaking hands. How could this happen? Why would a Sentinel come to their school?
"Somehow, Trask got word that Chuck was runnin' a school for mutants." Logan replied gruffly as he attempted to outrun the metallic beast that had set its sights on their jet. "Guess he wanted to stop him from recruitin' anyone else."
"Where are we going?" Jean asked softly, surprising even herself by how meek her voice sounded. Ororo left the controls to Logan, coming back to lay a comforting hand on the young girl's hand.
"We can't go back to the Institute. By now, Trask's agents will be everywhere." She said softly. Jean was surprised to feel tears spring to her eyes. The school had been her home for nearly nine years, since she first discovered her powers. She didn't like the idea of it being in the hands of someone like Trask.
"We destroyed Cerebro and the Danger Room." Logan announced from the front of the jet, weaving between two missiles launched their way.
"But where can we go then?" Jean asked again, trying to subdue her feelings. It wouldn't help anything to be upset.
"We're meetin' Chuck somewhere and going from there." His voice was strained as he tried to outrun the missiles. Scott was alert. Jean couldn't help but wish she knew better what he was feeling. The Institute was his home, too, almost as long as it had been hers. How could he not be sad that they might never go back? How could he be so calm when they had just narrowly escaped attack and capture by a Sentinel?
"It will be okay." The African woman gently rubs Jean's hand again. "It will turn out right in the end. You'll see."
Somehow, as they sped towards nowhere, Jean couldn't help but doubt the truth in that statement.
… … … … … … … …
"How can this, like, be happening to me?" Katherine Pryde wailed into a tissue as her mother gently rubbed her back. "It's not f-fair!"
"Kitty, you know your father and I won't stop loving you because of something like this." The older woman tried to reassure her hysterical daughter. Something- once again- caught her eye. It was a blue blanket, something Kitty had had as a child, hanging limply from the ceiling. She quickly averted her eyes for her daughter's sake.
"W-Why not?" She moaned. "I'm a freak!"
"You're not a freak!" Her mother replied fiercely. "You are still my beautiful, caring, and wonderful daughter. Nothing can change that, Kitty."
"Dad's gonna flip!" She continued to cry. "Mom, what am I going to do?"
"You're going to be alright, Kitty." Theresa Pryde tried to reassure her once more. "You're strong. I know you'll be okay."
"No, Mom!" She cried even harder. "How can I be okay? Almost everyone I know would rather kill a mutant than spend two freaking seconds in a room with one! How can I even try to be okay?"
Theresa didn't know. She remembered over the last two weeks; inexplicable headaches that no amount of Tylenol could fix, episodes of "sleep-walking" into the living room, complaints of exhaustion and an achy feeling. She wished she had seen the signs better, that she had known her daughter was about to join the most hated and persecuted group in the country.
"Grandpa Sam survived the Holocaust, didn't he?" She tried again. "Being a mutant isn't going to end up in genocide, Kitty. You'll be okay."
"Says who?" Kitty hiccupped. "Don't you watch the news? People are talking about it all the time! They want people like me dead. Or worse, studied in some lab to find a cure!"
"I won't let that happen to my daughter." She pulled her daughter into a fierce embrace.
"And… Dad won't hate me?" She sniffed, the tears momentarily subsiding.
"I promise."
"I should, like, get ready for school." The small brunette girl wiped her eyes in an attempt to quell her fears.
"I don't think you should go today, Kitty." Her mother murmured worriedly. At her daughter's distressed expression, she continued. "You're still incredibly upset, and I really think we should figure out everything about all this before I just let you run around wild. I just want you to be safe."
"I'll be fine." She sniffed irritably. "I… I don't, like, want this to change my life, Mom. I want everything to go on like normal!"
"But things aren't normal, Kitty, and I won't let you get hurt because of it!"
"I'll be fine for one day, Mom!" She snapped, but her face softened. "Thanks for caring though."
"Please stay home." She begged her honor's student, the freshmen enrolled in junior level classes. "Please! I'll take you to lunch, we'll rent a movie, we'll research this a little, and then we'll know what to do! For me."
"How could I, like, say no?" Kitty giggled weakly.
… … … … … … … … … …
"Is this… ethical?"
"What do you mean is it "ethical"? She's a mutant." Rob Herts raised an eyebrow at his young colleague. They stood outside the concrete door. Despite his bravado, Rob was slightly frightened of what lurked behind the door.
He had heard stories; no one that worked there longer than a month hadn't. Stories of an angry girl with uncontrollable mutant powers, blasting men into the wall, melting steel doors with a flick of her fingers, shattering all the lights and windows in one hallway with a wave of her arm. She nearly killed the old security guard, Billie, shrieking something about never letting anyone near her again while he oozed blood on her floor. He had heard she destroyed the lab when they were trying to take her blood, injuring four nurses and a doctor. Apparently, she could even manipulate the simplest things- like water- to turn on someone if he weren't careful.
Wanda Maximoff was a creature to be careful with.
"So's her dad, and he's the one that stuck her in here." The younger man- Grant, wasn't it?- pointed out. "I just don't know if I feel all that good about transferring her."
"What? You too afraid to move her?" Rob snorted, despite his own fears.
"That's not it." Grant frowned.
Rob doubted it. At night, sometimes she could be heard through the entire asylum. Moaning, screaming, crying. Different every time. Some nights, she wept for "pie", whatever the hell that meant. Others, she raged and shrieked against her father, cursing him to hell and back. Sometimes she just cursed. She had nearly killed a dozen different workers. Some people say some of them were an accident, which only made her move more logical.
Why would he want to work around something so dangerous it might accidentally kill him if its hands got free?
"Ready, Grant?"
"Not really. I still have some reservations."
"Shove 'em up your ass." Rob grunted as the door creaked open. He was surprised, as always, by the raven haired, crumpled mass on the ground. Her blue eyes were sunken in, and underlined with dark circles. She was pale and thin, a teenager by this point. She stared at them with disinterest as they walked in, eyeing her straight jacket to make sure it was properly in place.
"Bill, Fred, make sure she doesn't get her hands free." Rob instructed as he and Grant gently lifted her to her feet. He hated trying to deal with this one.
"Come to set me free?" Her raspy voice made the less experienced Grant jump.
"Sure." Bill snickered.
"Bastards." She snarled under her breath, lightly. Rob could feel a migraine coming on. Life would be easier when they were rid of her.
"Sure thing, darling." Fred laughed. "Now, keep that pretty little mouth shut and this'll be over and done with."
Something he said must have upset her.
She twisted suddenly, fighting them for every step they took.
"Let me go!"
"Watch and make sure her hands don't get free!"
Her struggling became more violent. Her hair, dark as night, hung in her face. Grant hid a shudder. She looked so damn frightening. If she had been a normal person on the streets, he would wonder what terrible things had made someone so angry.
"I swear to God, if you don't let me free, I'll-"
"I said watch her fucking hands!"
"I'm trying, damn it, she's strong!"
All four men leapt back as the straight jacket was flung off by an angry young woman. She turned, staring at them, daring them to try to stop her from leaving. Fred, a muscular man of about forty, leapt at her and she stopped him with a raised hand. He stood still, encased in blue light. With a cruel smirk, she flung him casually into the wall. A sickening crack filled the room as he connected with it, and slid to the floor.
Someone gasped. The room was in a panic; men too afraid to face her themselves ran for help, for someone to give her a sedative, anything. With a raised brow, she let them go. It was unlikely that she would be stopped from escape this time anyway.
With a casual flick of her hand, the lights exploded. Glass fell down to the ground, sharp little projectiles. Grant could have sworn he heard the slightest chuckle as the metal doors slid down to lock her in with them. She looked over the three remaining transport men, gaze softening somewhat as she looked at Grant.
"If I were you," She mused in her raspy and angry voice, "I would quit as soon as possible."
With those words, she stepped up to a metal door and placed a hand in front of it. It melted away, as if it were nothing, and she walked out of the pandemonium of the room without a second glance.
"Shit, Fred, are you okay?" Bill was bent over his friend, whose neck was bent at a funny angle.
"Karma." Grant shook his head.
"What?" Rob raised an eyebrow.
"She definitely got us back, didn't she?"
"Shut the fuck up."
… … … … … … … … … … …
Rhane Sinclair could deal with a lot of things. Reverend Craig's beatings, for example, were hardly bothersome to her at this point. Especially considering she healed so fast. She could easily fend for herself when necessary. Outrunning an angry mob, however, was not something she could do forever.
But she could try.
He led them. The man that tried to take her in from an early age, brought her to religion, called himself her adoptive father. He led this mob to destroy the demon. Burn her at the stake, he cried, burn the witch!
Witch?
She was not a witch.
Mutants, however, were as good as witches and demons in his book.
Her legs were beginning to ache. She glanced over her shoulder once more, and groaned. They were gaining ground. Soon enough, they would have her. Where could she hide, until they passed? Where could she find a little rest, a moment's peace?
This would be much easier as a wolf.
She ignored the thought. The "ability" to turn into a wolf at will was not exactly something she was proud of. It reminded her of the terrifying werewolf stories the reverend told her as a child, to remind her to always follow God and his word.
God, where are you now? What sin have I committed that I should be burned at the stake?
"Burn the witch!"
The mob was close enough to hear.
Was she going to die?
Fear gripped her heart as she tried desperately to escape the anger of the people, the rage and hatred of the reverend she had tried so hard to love. What had she done to deserve this? When had she become a demon, a monster? She hadn't meant it, whatever caused all this!
"You can't run anymore, demon!" The reverend's voice inspired another burst of energy from her tired feet.
No, she thought, but I can try.
People began to encircle her, to catch her.
What use were her young, short legs against the adults of her village?
"You have brought our village into sin for far too long, demon!" Reverend Craig's voice boomed. "All of the occurrences we once blamed on nature- such as stolen or missing chickens, disappearing children- can now be blamed on one creature."
"I didn't do anything!" Rhane cried out, even as she was dragged back to the small village. "Nothing!"
"Your lies will not save you."
"Father, please, you raised me!" She tried again. Her pleas fell on deaf ears.
Her heart rate increased tenfold when she saw the stake. Were they honestly going to burn her at the stake, like a heretic a thousand years ago? All for a few different genes?
"You know I'm not a demon!" She tried desperately to connect with the townspeople, having realized her adopted father was useless. "Every one of you has heard of a mutant! It's just a genetic difference, it's nothing!"
"God has cursed you with this affliction because He knew you would succumb to Satan!" The reverend snarled.
She was tied to the stake, frightened, sobbing like a child.
"Please! I did nothing wrong!"
Someone brought forward a torch.
"I did nothing!"
She briefly wondered if the tears would evaporate as she burned. She didn't know how much it would hurt to die. Would it be a slow, miserable roasting? Would she soon enough pass out because of the smoke, die of suffocation (which was far better)?
If God cared at all about her plight, it would be over and done with quickly.
"Vhat makes this child a demon?" A strongly accented voice demanded. She stared around for the single voice of reason, desperate to find it. The flames licked the outside of the straw at her feet working slowly to end her life.
"She transforms to a wolf, like a true child of Satan!" Some farmer she once knew saw fit to inform him.
"I'm not a demon." She sobbed quietly.
"I doubt zhat the Almighty Lord vould agree vith the acts done in his name." The voice replied softly. She saw an unfamiliar cloaked figure on the edge of the circle of people. "I believe you should set her free. God vould see you as true Christians."
"What do you know of God, more than I?" The reverend laughed heartily.
"Set her free, or I vill do it myself!"
Guffaws met his request. Flames licked her feet, burning them. She tried to jerk away, shrieking in pain and fear. A few claps came from the onlookers.
BAMPH!
The cloaked figure appeared above her on the tall stake, and reached down to touch her shoulder.
It had three long, blue fingers.
They disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.
When she touched the soft ground of a nearby forest, she wept in relief. She was alive! She stared in wonder at her savior, whom had landed easily on his feet. He didn't say anything for a moment, but seemed to be watching her.
"Thank you." She finally said softly, staring at him in wonder. "Why… Why did you save me?"
"Ve mutants have to stick together, ja?" He removed the hood of his cloak and smiled at her. His fangs pointed in the light, and a light blue fur covered his skin. He had pointed ears and long hair.
"Yes." She agreed. If this was what a demon looked like, she welcomed him over any God in the world. "How did you know?"
"I vas traveling ze area, and heard your cries." He replied. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen." She replied softly. "What about you?"
"Sixteen." He grinned. "I guess ve are on our own now. It vill be nice to have a companion, if you vould like to come vith me."
"Where are we going?" She asked. The thought of refusing never crossed her mind.
"As far avay from zis place as ve can get." He said cheerfully.
As far away as possible? That sounded like a plan.
… … … … … … … … … … …
"I cannot thank you enough, Vivian." Ororo smiled warmly at her sister.
"I couldn't leave you on your own in your time of need, Ororo." Her sister smiled warmly as she led the other mutants into the house. "There are two guest rooms, and I'm sure Evan will share with… I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
"Scott." He nodded. "This is Jean."
"It's nice to meet you." She smiled.
"You too." Jean sighed tiredly. She liked Vivian Daniels well enough; why wouldn't she like a kind woman that didn't dislike mutants?
"I assure you, this is merely temporary." Xavier wheeled into the house. "While I prepare to find living arrangements. Your generosity is truly appreciated."
"What did you expect me to do when Ororo called?" The kind woman grinned. "Turn you out on the streets? No. It's fine, my husband and son don't mind at all."
"Auntie O!" A tall, black teen jumped up the steps past Logan, a skateboard under his arm. His hair was bleached. Jean and Scott exchanged a glance, unsure of what to think of him.
"Hello Evan!" She enveloped him in a hug, which he returned.
"So…" He paused, looking the two teenagers over. "Who's the stiff?"
"Scott." Jean snickered.
"I'll have to loosen you up while you're here." He laughed. "I'm Evan."
"Jean."
"So people can be mutants when they're our age?" Evan asked.
"Well… Yeah." Jean shrugged. "I got my powers when I was eight years old. Scott was nine. It's a pretty common occurrence, especially with a physical mutation."
"Did people know? At your old school?"
"Not until the Sentinel came and tried to round us up." Scott frowned. "Up until then, people believed I had an eye condition. Jean doesn't seem like the stereotypical "freak", so we weren't exactly suspected."
"Evan, be more polite!" Vivian swatted the back of his head. "You wouldn't like it if people asked if people noticed that you were black!"
"But they obviously do!" Evan remained undeterred.
"It's fine." Jean smiled. "It's nice to be asked something without it leading to an insult."
"People can be vicious, man." Evan frowned. "Still, as bad as it sounds, I'm really glad I don't have to put up with that kind of prejudice. I can't imagine a giant robot coming to my school to capture me."
"Be glad." Scott grinned ruefully. "It's not fun to be interrupted in class by adults in spandex."
"I think the other kids took it fine." Logan waved dismissively.
"I'm sure you do." Ororo rolled her eyes.
"So… What can you do?" Evan looked genuinely curious. Jean grinned, and pulled the skateboard out from his arm with her mind. His eyes widened. "Wicked!"
'It is.' She whispered in his mind. He jumped, and laughed.
"Man, that's awesome! What about you, Stiff?"
"I shoot optic beams out of my eyes." Scott raised an eyebrow. "I get the feeling you wouldn't want me to demonstrate that in your house."
"Nah, probably not." Evan laughed. "Mom would have a fit."
"Evan!" His mother glared at him.
"Hey, so would Auntie O!"
"I doubt that Ms. Monroe would freak out for something like that." Jean laughed. "She took it pretty well when I accidentally pushed her off the roof."
"It was only a simulation." Ororo smiled gently. "And I can fly. No harm done."
"That's enough, Evan." Vivian interrupted her son's next question. "Why don't you show Scott your room and take Jean to one of the guest rooms?"
"Alright." Evan shrugged. "Come on upstairs."
They followed the other teen, who was cheerfully chattering on about skateboarding. He showed Jean her room first. It was a nice room with two twin beds (luckily; she got the feeling Ororo would be sharing it with her), and pretty flowery wallpaper.
Scott was lucky enough to get a cot (until better arrangements could be made, as Vivian insisted, no matter how many times he assured her that he didn't mind at all) in Evan's room.
As the teens got better acquainted, the adults turned to more serious discussion downstairs.
"What does it mean, Charles?" Ororo asked softly as they drank coffee in the kitchen. Vivian was included in the conversation, despite her status as a human. "Most pressingly, how did Trask discover the school?"
"I am sure he knew of it for some time." Xavier frowned. "It is an unsettling thought. Even more unsettling, however, is the amount of readings I was getting on Cerebro before we had to destroy it. New, young mutants are appearing all over the country. We cannot protect them."
"Or ourselves." Logan added morbidly, leaning against the wall. "Why'd Trask send that thing after the kids and not us, Chuck? It doesn't make sense. He must have known we'd try to save them."
"I don't know, Logan." The telepath sighed softly. "Perhaps he hoped to catch us off-guard. Perhaps he wanted access to the mansion. We cannot be sure."
"Where will we go after this?" Ororo asked softly. "Where can we go? Another Institute will meet the same fate. I don't trust any of the Hellfire Club as far as I could throw them. Magneto is obviously out of the question. So… Where?"
"We will figure something out." Xavier promised.
"We better." Logan snorted. "Or we're screwed."
"If I were you, I would be more concerned about why they attacked you." Vivian said softly. "You can stay here as long as you like. Those robots are only supposed to attack when a mutant is trying to kill humans, and needs to be stopped. What does it mean if they're attacking for no reason?"
"It means," Xavier sighed softly, "that we will soon be faced with a war."