Don't own the Xmen- don't know why I'd be messing around with a fanfiction if I did, but I suppose that's beside the point...

Anyhow! Please note that this is definitely not an OC centric story. Grace just serves to intruduce the mystery-ish opening, and will be merely a minor character throughout the uncovering of various events. I'd tell you which character this is about, and what pairing it'll be; but that'd ruin all the surprises! Can't have that.

I hope you enjoy...

An insistent breeze tickled the drapes, making them rise and quiver rhythmically in the night. A pool of soft silver moonlight waved and shimmered in a rectangle on the floor, fluid and graceful; and the breeze filtered in through the window, skittering playfully across a smooth, faintly bluish arm. Then it died down.

The owner of the blue tinged arm was sitting- tightly curled into a ball- in the corner, and was invisible in the shadows.

Only her wide blue eyes, oddly intelligent for one as young as her tiny size suggested, could be seen in the darkness. Those clear sapphire orbs scanned the room mistrustfully, and an ear was cocked to catch the slightest reverberation in the air.

Abruptly her head jerked towards the door, her heart rate exponentially accelerated. If you had been listening carefully, and had been perfectly silent at that moment, you would have heard a muffled scream.

For a split second Grace only huddled tighter into her corner, her young face an anxious mixture of fear and curiosity. She obviously wanted very badly to find out what was going on, but the former emotion had a powerful grip on her. Then, abruptly, she lurched determinedly out of her hiding spot, and in a second was out of the room, striding- well, walking with unaccustomedly long steps- down the hallway, as though she was trying to cover as much ground as possible before she could reconsider her actions.

Now her sensitive ears could pick up sounds of a struggle. Someone was thrashing around violently. There were two, maybe three other people with the first, by turns quietly cursing and soothing.

Grace was battling internally with her sight or flight instincts, while edging closer to the corner of the hall. When she reached it, all she had to do was peek her head around the corner to see them. Her heart was thrumming feverishly in her ribs as she slowly turned her head to the right…

There were actually four of them. Three were bent over the struggler, and the last one had the person in a tight head lock; and from the sound of it, was clamping the his mouth shut as well.

Grace's eyes, if it were possible, widened further; and an exhilarating amount of adrenalin was singing through her veins. This was something that was obviously highly untoward- and something she, in all probability, was not supposed to be seeing.

Most of their words were intelligible to her, because they were all whispering at once, and the person was kicking and thrashing very loudly, but she did catch a name being repeated ceaselessly in all of their hurried sentences.

Then one of the people gathered in the knot- was that Mr. Kurt? - shifted. And, briefly, she caught sight of the person on the ground that was being kept in Mr. McCoy's arms.

It was a young woman, her beautiful face twisted with anger and frustration. Her dark chestnut locks were mussed and matted, from both lack of washing and from her current struggle. The two white streaks, wildly tangled in the mass of the rest of her hair, were not so much white as dirty grey. And, for a split second, her startlingly green eyes met the girl's blue ones.

In that brief moment, she saw a glimpse of a haunted, tortured mind; one that had seen far too much of the world's darkness. A mind that had nearly been torn apart by it. Those green emeralds pierced Grace to her core, almost seeming to look within her. She shivered, but found it impossible look away.

Then someone moved between her and the woman, and eye contact was broken.

Grace leaned farther out, trying to get a better look. Nearly losing her balance, she let out the tiniest squeak of dismay as she caught herself.

Instantly, one of the people who'd had their back turned toward her swivelled around and looked straight at her, the man's dark eyes fastening on her frightened face. His scowl was made even more forbidding by his black muttonchops and beard. His expression, and his overall hairiness, put her forcefully in mind of a large, angry- and hungry!- predator.

Grace choked back a shriek and found herself running- much faster than she'd previously thought possible- for the (relative) safety of her room.

But hours after the adrenalin faded from her system, and her fear had spent itself, Grace sat on her bed with unfocused eyes and wondered just who that 'Rogue' was.

I really do enjoy reviews. This is basically just a prologue, that hopefully drew you into the mystery. Hopefully. :D Please tell me if it's worth continuing.