This is a completely new fandom for me, so I hope I can get everyone in character.

Dedicated to Courtney (Manhattan) and Mary (Bronx) (don't ask), cos they're epic, and for putting up with my moaning on about it!

Also, I know nothing about Scott's background, so I'm making it up.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Ali and Maddy.

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I stood at the entrance to the drive way, checking the sign once more, as if the name would somehow have changed since my last glance thirty seconds ago.

It still matched the address scribbled on a piece of paper in untidy, cramped handwriting. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was scrawled across the back of the postcard, along with the words 'If you ever need a safe place.'

I smiled. I'd known him for twenty five years, and I still couldn't get used to the hand writing. How could someone so neat and organised in real life have such chicken scratch writing?

I raised my hand to knock on the wrought iron gates when I noticed a button, and an intercom thing. I pushed the button, but hesistated when a voice barked out of the speaker at me. 'What?'

'I uh, my name is uh, Maddy, I'm uh, looking for-' I started.

'Are you one of us?' The voice cut me off.

'Define us,' I retorted, getting a little pissed by this man and his offhand manner.

'Are you a mutant?' he snapped, the force of agression in his tone making the intercom squeal in protest.

I paused, unsure how to answer it sure, I was a mutant, but I wasn't one of them.

'Look, either you are or you aren't, it's not a hard question.'

'Y-yes,' I said, finally spitting it out. Great, I had developed a stutter. Fantastic.

With a shudder, the aging gates shuddered open, and I began my seemingly long journey down the long drive, surrounded by trees and various shrubs. My fingertips tingled as I jorneyed down the green hued path, rounding the corner to find a gargantuan brick building. It certainly looked like a school on first glance. Children playing basketball, walking through the grounds, sitting under trees reading. Then I looked again, and realised how gifted these youngsters were. One small child, who couldn't be more than three foot nothing was wrestling playfully with someone more than three times his size, and winning by the look of things. A couple were strolling across a lake hand in hand, the boy casually holding his hand out, freezing the water beneath them. The basketball players were all the same person I noted. It was true. There were others like me. I continued slowly through the gorunds, glancing from side to side at the kids who I knew were staring at me. With my moss green hair and emerald tinged skin, I knew I didn't exactly look normal.

Credit where it's due, most of the kids took one look and went back to whatever they were doing. One or two of the younger ones stared, and an older boy, in his late teens, with dark eyes and a cruel mouth, his face contorted into a sneer.

I reached the main door and knocked gently. A small girl appeared beside me. I jumped slightly. A teleporter. 'You can just go right in,' she said in a quiet, almost whispering voice, smiling up at me, revealing a gap where her two front teeth should be.

'OK, thank you sweetie,'I said, pushing the door open. She smiled her gap toothed smile and disappeared, reappearing on a rug, where she seemed to be having a tea party with her dolls.

Stepping inside the huge lobby, I looked around in awe. Coming down one of the huge staircases was a blue skinned guy, covered in intricate tattoos, a tail snaking behind him.

'Gutentag,' he said, obviously by way of greeting.

'Gutentag,' I replied, as he passed me, dropping to all fours and bounding off down one of the many corridors. I edged further into the lobby, shutting the door behind me with a muted click. Suddenly, there was a whoosh of air behind me, and a thud, the glass in the nearby trophy cabinets rattling. I turned slightly, seeing a figure behind me. 'Very impressive. What else do you do?' I asked, turning properly to get a look at him, or her, as the case may be. I came face to, well, chest with a tall man with a dark, brooding, but handsome face. His hair was dark, and seemed to grow in an odd way, giving the impression of two pointed ears. His eyes were brown, with an underlying animalistic tone that looked so natural it made me wonder if it was always there. Clad simply in jeans and a wifebeater showing off lean muscles and tanned arms and shoulders, dog tags hung around his neck, but I couldn't read the name on them.

'Maddy, I presume?' he asked brusquely, hiding his surprise at having not shocked me well, but not well enough that I didn't notice.

'That's me, I'm looking for-'

'The professor. Up the stairs, second door on the left. He'll know you're there.' The sonofabitch cut me off again, and turned away, heading back up the stairs.

'No,' I said forcefully, making him listen to me. I don't like being ignored. 'I don't want to see your damn professor. I'm here to see Scott! Scott Summers? He sent me this!' I pulled the postcard from my pocket, shoving it in his face. He looked at it for a second, before snorting and turning away, heading up the stairs he must have jumped from before. 'Good luck with that. This way.'

I followed him silently up the stairs, struggling to keep my emotions in check. The last time I lost my temper, I mean really lost it, people got hurt. Someone died.

He led me down a narrow corridor to a pine door. He knocked on it, shouting 'Scott! Visitor!' before turning and jogging back down the corridor. Turning left at the end. I turned my attention back to the closed door. I knocked again, more gently than the other man had. 'Scott?' I asked through the door. 'Are you in there? It's me, Maddy. Are you gonna let me in?'

I waited for a few minutes, and then turned to leave. Maybe he wasn't in. And what did that guy mean by 'good luck'? Behind me I heard a lock turning and the door clicked open. 'Maddy?' a voice asked, not Scott's voice. It was too hard, too bitter. I turned to see this stranger in Scott's room and was rendered speechless. It was Scott alright, but not Scott. His once hazel eyes were covered in a pair of ruby sunglasses. His hair was lank and unwashed, and there was at least a week's growth of stubble on his chin and neck. He was wearing a grubby white t-shirt and a pair of black sweats. A sheen of sweat covered his body, what I could see of it.

'Oh Scott,' I breathed, devastated by this. 'What happened to you?'

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Well, I know it's short, but it seemed like a good place to stop. I hope you enjoyed it!