Disclaimer: All characters and situations are the properly of Marvel Comics , Bryan Singer, and David Hayter. I make no money from this and no breach of copyright is intended.

Notes: This is pretty much an AU, designed so that I can play around with the interactions between Toad, Sabretooth and Pyro (no slashing whatsoever. that's just…eeeew). In this universe, Toad and Sabretooth managed to survive the Liberty Island attack and spent all of X2 recovering from it. Also I've called Pyro St. John Allerdyce, because St. John is his original comic name and is way cooler than John.

St. John is pronounced 'sinjun', for those not in the know. He does a little swearing, but non gratuitous, and really nothing too bad (no f or s)

Chapter one-God Among Insects

Anger fuelled him for the first half of the journey. Anger, hate and self-righteous indignation. Hating them for leaving him behind, hating Bobby for being a stuck up prick, and hating the world generally because he was alone, and in the snow, and nobody seemed to care.

He felt he was the only one with no one to care for him. Cyclops, Storm, Dr Grey, they all worked as a team. Even Logan was part of it. Bobby had Rogue, and a family…except Bobby didn't have a family anymore. He sniggered at that, feeling glad, in a way, that it was mostly his fault. He'd flamed the Drake household, and now poor Bobby had no home to go to.

Poor Bobby, all alone in the world, oh it must be hard. Must be hard for the poor boy with no family. Never mind the kid who never had one, nobody cares about him.

He stumbled and fell, snow scattering in front of him. There was the sound of a helicopter behind him and at first he thought that Drake had finally got his nerve up and decided to move. And of course Bobby and Rogue would fly in to save the day, and everyone would forget about him, all alone, stumbling along in the snow.

He would show them. Someday, somehow, he'd do…something. Something damn good! Something to show them all. The rage burned in his chest.

It wasn't the jet. It was another plane. A white plane. He stared up at it, trying to think who it could belong to. That other old guy maybe? What had they called him, Magneto? He remembered the man talking to him, a God among insects, the promise of power that had seemed to linger in his eyes.

The plane was descending. St. John thought briefly about turning to run, but then remembered the mans words again. A God among insects. Why should he run? He had fire, he was powerful. The thought that the occupant of the plane might have a gun never occurred to him.

He flicked the lighter open and grabbed a handful of fire. Whoever it was would get a nasty surprise if they tried to attack him. They'd learn soon enough not to mess with mutants.

'Mr Allerdyce?' He gasped in shock as the door opened and Magneto stepped out. 'Are you going somewhere?'

St. John stared, then swallowed nervously 'Weren't you meant to be with the others.' Behind Magneto, he could see Mystique sitting in the cockpit. He tried not to stare at her body too obviously.

Magneto raised an eyebrow 'We found we had no need of them.'

'I don't need them either.' The words sounded wrong as soon as they left his mouth, too much like whining. He didn't want to appear childish, not in front of Magneto, and definatly not in front of her.

A thin smile appeared on the elder mans lips. 'Perhaps you would care to join us? We are always on the lookout for those who will be truly dedicated to our cause. Those with great powers, those who can fight for us, and for what they know is right.'

St. John felt something surge up in his chest. A wild untamed thing, that wanted to fight, that wanted to prove himself. Great powers!

'I'd rather join you than stay here with them.' He tried to look determined, 'Mutants are worth more than people ever will be. Humans have no right to fight against us.'

Magneto's mouth twitched slightly, and his eyes flickered over to Mystique who was smirking. She caught his gaze and shrugged one shoulder. He'd do.

'Well what are you waiting for?' With a swirl of his cloak, Magneto was back in the jet. And St. John, unable to believe his luck, stumbled after him.

The rage and anger were gone now, and all that was left was excitement. He stared down at the snow beneath the helicopter, and felt a rush of exhilaration. This was more interesting than sitting around in a jet, waiting for Cyclops do decide when he was ready to fight. He was ready now, he knew it, and Magneto knew to. Magneto recognised him for his true powers.

He glanced at Mystique, sitting at the controls, silently piloting the plane. He didn't know what to think of her really. On the one hand, she scared him half to death, with her shape changing powers and fighting ability. On the other hand…

His eyes roamed over the curves of her body. His gaze sneaked up to her eyes and he blushed when he realised she was looking straight at him. Her eyes were cold. She gave him a stare that made him gulp, then turned back to the controls, not sparing him a second look.

'Where are we going?' he asked, to break the rather uneasy silence.

'Back to base.' Mystique answered, although she ignored him in every other way.

'Will it just be us there, or are there some other mutants on you-on our side?' He wasn't to sure which possibility scared him most.

Magneto smiled. Professor X's smiles had been comforting, they let you into a world where somehow everything was right. When Magneto smiled it was as if he'd thought of a joke at your expense and was waiting to see when you'd catch on. It made St. John feel defensive, like he had to prove himself. He bet Magneto never smiled that way at Mystique, she always seemed to be let in on the joke.

'You're not the only one, don't worry.' Mystique again. Why wouldn't she even look at him when she spoke to him?

The excitement was gone now, and instead he began to feel a little scared. He began to flip the lighter in his pocket, out of sheer habit. He'd survived on his own before now, he'd survive again.

And he wasn't alone. He had Magneto with him. Mystique. His true family. But somehow, as the plane descended on a large concrete strip near a deserted warehouse, he thought that he'd never felt more alone in his life.

Poor St. John. Got no idea. But he'll learn. ;p It was kind of fun writing hopeless rebel dialogue.

Hmm. Some of Magneto's dialogue is a little sloppy. And I'm not altogether happy with Mystique. And it's quite short, but the next one will be longer. This is my second long fic, and unlike 'Junior' I have no idea where this is going. However I will update reasonably regularly and I have plenty of ideas.

I am not American. I have never been to America. So I apologise in advance for any glaringly obvious cultural errors I might have made. Do point them out if you see any.

Every time you read without reviewing, Marvel kills a superhero…