A/N: Original characters may be a bit OOC because this is my first X-Men fanfic and to be honest…I don't know exactly what I'm doing. Helpful criticismwould be greatly appreciated and loved. Thanks!
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to their respective owner/s except Jaimi and a few other characters, which is of my own creation as is the plot.
Chapter One
"Second Chances"
There's a place I dream about
where the sun never goes out
and the sky is deep and blue
won't you take me there with you?
She hid in an alleyway, crouching in the shadows, a small smile on her face. Using a shallow puddle beside her, Jaimi had tried to at least look decent; combing her brown, flyaway hair with her fingers and tying it up with her thick, thread bracelet.
Now she sat, squatting, at the mouth of the alleyway; sharp eyes passing over every one that walked past though they were completely oblivious to her. She has been waiting for a wealthy-looking man or woman to stop at the bakery stall across the road. Each and every business owner wants one thing; money, and what better way to get it but flatter the first rich person that walks through your door? And whilst the attention of the manager is divided to fulfill the wish of that prosperous person Jaimi can swoop in and strike; slipping away unseen.
Jaimi bit her lip, catching sight of a professional looking man and willing him to walk towards probably the cleanest looking bread stall in the whole street. Her eyes flickered over his grey, brushed hair, tie, briefcase and business suit. She the glanced at the briefcase as the man starts walking down the street; gradually inching closer to the stall and can't help but wonder whether she should just grab that and run. She could always find a way to open it.
But did she even know if there was anything good in there? Food? Money? Anything she could sell at least at a high price? No. So she doesn't slip across the road and wrap her skinny fingers around the briefcase and instead watched, pleased, as the man made his way towards the bakery stand. She smirked; she's going to have something to eat today.
"Eyes on the prize, Jaimi," She muttered to herself softly, "Eyes on the prize"
She followed him silently, earning looks from most people she passed. She felt somewhat self-conscious as she walked more than aware of the state she was in. She hadn't had a shower since she'd visited that small, surreptitious lake almost three days ago and even that was a quick one. She was sure she smelled; both from body odor and the alleyways she spent so much time in. The dirty, stolen clothes she had on were stained and dirty; but they served their purpose. They kept her warm most nights and concealed the array of knives fastened to her hip.
She stopped a few steps away from the bakery stall, pausing to look up and down the street. To her left was a tall, well built man looking through some CDs so she knew she couldn't go that way. And to the right was the distant likeness of a police officer; the sight of him didn't scare her; she could dodge him easily, she just didn't want to be seen. It meant she wouldn't be able to come here for a while. She scanned the street again, wasting less than a second, and spotted another alleyway diagonal from her; she hadn't used that particular lane before, but at the moment it was her only choice.
Aware of her surroundings, she ducked closer to the stall; watching, as expected, the manager practically ignore the rest of the buyers to please the business man; who seemed to be pursing his lips in self-righteousness. Jaimi smiled slightly again, edging closer to the stall, a look of nonchalant passing her face. The business man noticed her but just turned away and said not a word, – why would he? She was just a six-teen year old, dirty runaway in his eyes; nothing more, nothing less. She scowled lightly at the thought. What happened to 'care for the less fortunate' in the world?
She stared at him for several moments; perhaps giving him a heads-up to turn around. She glowered at him and his iron-pressed suit, leather briefcase and neat hair-cut. Asshole. While continuing her thoughts the man stared back at her, his face broadening in a cruel smile. She stared back and noticed a yellow flash in his eyes, as his irises twist and spin in an eruption of a golden hue.
She wouldn't run, wouldn't risk the chance to fill her empty stomach, and so instead rashly grabbed a big bag of bread by the plastic neck and slipped away, feeling the man's discolored eyes on her.
She skidded into the street and the shouts of the angry manager fell on deaf ears as they went unnoticed into the hustle and bustle of the street. She dipped into a mass of people, and tried her best to become just another face in the crowd.
"Hey, Roach!" She yelled and caught the attention of a blonde, eighteen year old young man in front of her.
'It's Justin'.
She smirked and noticed the look of irritation on his face as he paused to let her catch up. She fell into step beside him and she held up half a bag of bread; the other half she had eaten beforehand.
"Now I owe you nuthin'" She snapped lightly.
He grunted in response and reached into the clear bag for some food. She almost felt sorry, the tall guy was horrible at stealing; couldn't steal shit if his life depended on it. And it did. But then she remembered she hated him. On the streets there wasn't much time for pity.
"You goin' tonight?" He questioned whilst eating. She knew he wasn't really curious. Roach, or Justin as his real name was, didn't give a flying fuck about anyone else but himself. The only reason she guessed he was talking to her was 'cause they were the only people in the lane and they both loathed awkward silences.
"Where?"
He looked almost shocked, as if like it was a sin not to be aware. "You don't know?"
She rolled her eyes, exasperated, "Does it look like I fucking know?"
He wanted to smirk at her, savoring the one moment he had on top of her but instead his voice turned soft, deadly. "Some anti-mutant organization's holdin' a meeting. Everyone's invited. Well everyone that's not a mutant is invited"
She stiffened at the word 'mutant' and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. If only he knew she was one as well. Would he still be in this alleyway, talking to her? Would anyone in the streets talk to her? Would the backstreet stalls still buy the things she stole just to sell them again?
Probably not.
She had seen what Roach and the others did to other homeless mutants; ones that were sometimes worse off than them, ones that didn't know how to survive in the streets after somewhat pampered lives. Jaimi had usually intervened; angry and disgusted, voice raised high enough to alert an official. They knew when not to take any chances.
"Anti-mutant organization, huh?" She asked a little stiffly. Roach knew she didn't like him and the other street rats ganging up on the mutants but he didn't know why, so he didn't care. Maybe she was just a sucker for freaks? Besides, it was his turn to gloat, to show he had a side, a gathering. He stood for a purpose that was welcomed by many.
"Not really an organization. More like a group that really hates freaks. I don't know all 'bout it but 'pparently they're gonna arrange some sorta attack"
She balled her hands into fists and glares at the floor. Roach and the others…they didn't mean a lot to her. They were more of an accessory than anything; an accessory that she could live fine without. The only time she really needed them was when she had been spotted and couldn't stray out of the back streets in case the police found her. Even then she was fine; she could always just steal a hoodie from a backyard and sneak into the stores. Besides, she hated being in someone's debt; having been tied down by it. So if Roach and the others didn't mean a lot to her then why did it hurt so much that they wanted mutants, her kind, dead?
"Are you fucking insane? And risk the police coming?"
He glared, maybe a bit taken aback with the harshness in her voice. He turned to face her, the bread bag lying discarded in a gutter after he had finished with it. "Police? Yeah right; they'll probably be there - on our side! Face it, Jaimi; no-one gives a shit about those freaks but you!"
She flinched, feeling heat start to creep its way down her arm and build up in her palm.
"Don't you call 'em that!" She hissed dangerously low, taking one step forward.
Roach may be a shit thief but he was a lethal fighter and even if she could keep up her own, better than even most men, she knew she would have a bad brawl ahead; even with the knives on her hip. Roach took a step forward as well, so that they were standing almost nose to nose. She could see the muscles on his scrawny neck and the rancid smell of sewerage and alleyway filth cocoons them both.
"Or what, huh? Jesus Christ, Jaimi, don't you get it? They're a pest, they're a fucking parasite! They're dangerous and they deserve to be killed!" He yelled, his voice bouncing down the lane way with a brutal volume and she gritted her teeth, sickened.
"Dangerous? How the fuck was that little boy, last week, dangerous? He couldn't even walk he was so tired! Get your head out of your ass, Justin, and wake the fuck up! It's not always so bloody simple!"
He smirked then, and Jaimi is shocked as he looks straight into her eyes; a look of indifference passing over his face. An insolent grin spread over his face.
"Oh but, Jaimi, it is. They're freaks, we aren't. They don't deserve to live. To breathe the same air we do."
Before Roach knew what was happening Jaimi's balled fist flew out. The muscles on her arm were coiled tight and her fingernails dug into her palm. He fell to the floor, hands clutching his already bloodied face. She let a proud grin twitch the corners of her mouth as she heard Justin moan.
"You fuckin' bitch…" He groans painfully.
With his face to ground Roach didn't notice the fine, light red shield over Jaimi's fist and it disappeared with a wisp of white.
She lent down, her mouth mere centre-meters from his ear and in a soft, alluring whisper she reasoned, "I told you not to call them freaks, Justin"
Jaimi stands in the shadows, her hood pulled up listening slightly to the shouting with an angry scowl on her face. She wasn't sure what she was doing here, but she knew she wasn't going to leave; at least not anytime soon. Over sixty people were here, she knew, she had heard someone talk about how good of a turn-out it was, so she could easily slip into the crowd and disappear. No-one would see her.
Roach was here, she was sure of it. And a lot of other people on the streets she had talked to at one time or another. Even the bakery store manager was here and she had made a notice not to walk or look in his direction. She had passed the entry without problem but she didn't want to bring any attention to herself; well any more than she already had. So she was at the fringe of the drunk and fuming pack of people, concealed in the shadows.
Like she said; she wasn't sure what she was doing here. It was an anti-mutant meeting for Christ's Sake and she was a mutant. It's almost asking for certain death.
After an hour, teeth gritted and fists clenched she let out an angry sigh, feeling the rage build up in her chest. A warm sensation was already building in her palms and she glowered at the man on the podium up the front, wanting very much for him to suffer for all the things he and the crowd was planning to do to her kind.
There wasn't a coherent thought in it, simply a rash passing through. But before she knew clearly what was happening she caught sight a glimmer of red around the man's throat. His face suddenly went pale, beads of sweat already appearing on his white forehead. His mouth gaped open like a fish out of water, trying to suck up some air and his shaking hands wrapped around his neck, his microphone fell discarded to the floor and his sentence hung in the silence. The man's eyes widened and he fell to the floor, the sound of his knees hitting the floorboard lost in the sudden shouting and screams of the destructive mob of anti-mutant followers.
"Mutants!" Someone in the crowd yelled, his voice swarming into the noise of others, as they realized the same thing. Heart in her mouth and revulsion turning ugly thoughts into her head, Jaimi froze and stared at the man at the front who had resorted to twitching on the floor. A woman and a man where trying to resuscitate him. She tried to slow her breathing. Tried to calm the rising of her stomach and the guilty heat that traveled through her palm.
A heavy, well built man in front of her remained silent, calculating eyes flicking over the crowd; until they looked at her. He started grinning; like a proud parent when their child uttered their first word. Jaimi watched, utterly confused as the man's irises change from dark brown to a honeycomb yellow. She widened her eyes as the man walks forward a few steps; stiff and shocked as the man's skin start to change color to a deep blue, scales overlapping and shuffling.
She opened her mouth to say something but the man looked at her, his hair dyeing itself a carroty shade. "If I was you, I would get out of here. Things are going to get hazardous"
She doesn't reply, dipping into the crowd. Jaimi's feet kick into a steady rhythm as she sprinted, leaving behind the deafening sound of an astonished and panicky mob. The wind tears at her hair and she can feel her ponytail slipping out but she didn't care, and she continued on, almost panicky, as she can hear people following her. She took a blind left, silencing her feet almost instantly at will as ducked behind a lone crate. She knew already without looking that behind her was a dead end.
She stayed like that for ten minutes; long after the men have gone and she swerved through the alleyways until she got home. Or at least where she sleeps. It was a simple little piece of ground covered with a large portion of cardboard; the rest of the cardboard was anchored to the wall – shielding a small amount of belongings she possessed. She was fine with leaving her stuff here, not many people ventured down here and the ones that did, didn't bother with a homeless girls possessions.
She sat down, pulling her jacket closer around her body. Did she really kill that man? What sort of suicidal idiot was she? What sort of a suicidal, murderer was she? She grimaced, looking up at the black abyss of night and the little dots of light. Saying the word 'murderer' made her feel dirty…but she was a murderer, a criminal. Could she be held responsible for things she couldn't control? Things she didn't even want to happen?
She thought back and remembered that blue man with the yellow eyes and orange hair. Who was he? Was he the same man from the bakery store; the rich one? But that guy looked different, not because of the suit, or the briefcase, or even the hair…he looked almost thirty years younger. And why did he want her to go? Why did he warn her? What did she mean to him? He was a mutant sure…but why did he stay here whilst she ran? Why was he there in the first place?
She groaned as a headache spurts through her head. So many questions were dizzying, uncontrollable and most of all, unanswerable. So much had changed in the last few hours it was almost driving her insane. She had gone from her daily routine of stealing to attending a meeting for people that wanted to make her kind extinct to then killing a guy and meeting a mutant that then saved her life. She scowled – why did everything bad happen to her?
She pulled her knees to her chest, crossed her arms and placed her head on them. Suddenly her cheek twitches involuntary and she frowned. She reached up along her cheek; feeling a warm liquid there. Staring at her fingers she realized it's blood. She touched her right ear and her stomach drops as she can feel more blood there. When did she get hit? Nothing even touched her! What the fuck was going on?
"Are you Jaimi?"
She scrambled up, stunned and dizzy. Eyes wide she took in a man standing off down the alleyway dressing in jeans and his eyes shadowed with dark red glasses, he looked a bit out of placed in the alleyway with clean, fairly tanned skin and neat, dark brown hair.
"Depends on who's askin-?" She cut off as a large banging sound cleared the silent atmosphere. Her eyes trained to a fairly large explosion, the smoke fumes whispering up from the building's horizon. If she stood on her toes she could clearly see the flames licking up the building, the irregular shaped roof twisting with some unseen force. The building where the anti-mutant organization meeting was held.
"Fuck…" she muttered under her breath, captivated with the dance of fire and smoke.
She had forgotten the man in the alleyway until he come up next to her, staring up at the smoldering building like she was, their faces mirrored in shock.
"We've gotta go, people will be here any second" He broke the silence and Jaimi whirled around, kind of surprised he was still there. It takes her a solid moment to realize what he had said and a frown painted itself on her forehead with a small crease.
"What? Who said I'm going with you?" She snaps, stepping back into her 'house'.
He looked exasperated as he looked up and down the alleyway on edge. She took a look at his glasses, mesmerized with the hard red center and light edges. "I don't have time for this, Jaimi; we've got to get out of here"
"How do you know my name?"
He paused, taking a second to explain. "Look, my names Scott Summers, okay? I'm a mutant, a teacher at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," He noticed the look of confusion on her face and explained, "It's a school for mutants. Now unless you want to be here when they come, you've got to come with me"
She knew who 'they' were automatically and narrowed her eyes at the explosion as she realized most of the humans would be coming through these alleyways to escape the fire; ignoring the officials because face it, who wants to be caught trying to organize a meeting to kill mutants? No-one. But...
"Who says they'll be looking for me? No-one even comes down here but street rats and they don't bother me!"
He sighed, outstretched fingers twitching with impatience. "Listen, you weren't quite as inconspicuous as you think at the meeting, I'm pretty sure some people would remember a hooded figure hiding in the shadows. Besides, you're bleeding! You need medical attention! I'm not going to hurt you, honestly, just please come."
He glanced cautiously up and down the alleyway again; looking like he'd rather not be here. Not afraid, she thought, no; he looked torn. Like he'd much rather not do, whatever he had to do should someone turn around the corner.
She's torn; she's got nowhere else to go. He has a point, a very valid one, and maybe she's not as invisible as she thought? She hasn't quite made up her mind when she hears shouting, amplified by the stone walls and echoed by the panting of running.
"She went this way!"
"Down that corridor to the right! I saw her, I did!"
"Why the hell are we even looking for this chick? I still reckon it was that guy with the fucked up arm!"
"Dustin went after that crowd! We need to scratch out every possibility!"
"She looked pretty new to the table too, might be able to sell her for a bit, if you know what I mean!"
Scott grabbed her arm and Jaimi didn't resist the pull through the maze of alleyways. They ran as fast as she can allow them, hindering them even further as she glanced behind them after every shuffle and every whisper. Her heart was in her throat, and her mouth dry from every breath.
Before she knows what's going on she's stopped before a sleek black car and Scott opened the passenger door, pulling her in. She clicks her seatbelt in staring out the tinted window with her palms clenched as she felt Scott get into the driver's side of the car.
Her hands are shaking and she despised the fact. Weak. Weak. It's with a numb realization that she noticed she had none of her possessions. All were left behind in her makeshift house for the eyes and hands of whoever seemed interested.
She didn't utter a 'thank-you' to Scott, and he didn't expect one. She didn't look at him, or his side of the car and he didn't push it. She didn't trust him, and Scott didn't want her to.
He wanted her on guard, because she needed to be.
TBC
Lyrics: Edge of the Ocean by Ivy
A/N: Any questions or suggestion don't be afraid to PM me or contact my tumblr (the address is on my profile) I'll try 'n' get back to you as soon as possible. Review! Thanks!
-J
