A/N: Yeah, I haven't updated my stories in a while. School's been hell. And this is just a random story I thought of, and I guess I'll roll with it.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Chapter one:
Dylan lay on his bed, located in the large airy mansion, bored out of his mind. Dr. G-H had told him that some time this week a very important day would come, but so far it had proved to be quite ordinary. It had started like any other week. Every day he had gotten up, eaten breakfast, took his pill, and returned to his room and slept for another five hours. Then he read. You know how they all thought that bird kids needed food? Well, Dylan had learned that really all they needed was sleep. Most of the other mutants rarely got time to sleep, so you can see why they would believe that all they could do to keep going was to eat. What with all of the running, experiments, angst, and being the subject of poorly written books, cough cough, THE FINAL WARNING, cough, et cetera; they barely had time to breath!
But Dylan was different.
He lived a relaxed life in the doctor's mansion. And it bored him to tears. Usually his day consisted of waking up early, eating breakfast, taking his pill, and then alternating between napping and reading. Dylan loved reading. He read until all hours of the night, really screwing with his sleeping pattern, but he really didn't care. He'd only been alive eight months, anyway.
Dylan didn't know much about the world, but he knew enough to know that he had it good. Food, water, shelter, what more could somebody want? That's all you needed to live, right? That's all a normal person needed to live. But Dylan was special. That's what the scientists told him. They were always telling him how important it was that he meet this girl – and love her – in order for him to live.
Having to love a total stranger was not too high up on his 'Things to do' list. He wasn't good with people, so how was he supposed to love this girl? He was awkward. Being alive for only eight months, not having parents, being almost completely isolated from the rest of the world didn't help with his "Avoidant Personality Disorder," as the scientists called it. Dylan hated it. Dylan hated the appointments, the medication, and the therapy, but what choice did he have? He wasn't worth anything. If he was, why would his parents leave him? Why?
It didn't seem fair.
But the therapist was always reminding him that life wasn't fair.
So there Dylan lay, on his side, his shaggy blond hair falling into his turquoise eyes, thinking about the book he'd just read. The plot was chilling similar to his life, as the protagonist was isolated from society, and then found out they have some big mission in life; not decided by him of course, but by someone else. That's how Dylan felt. He didn't want to fall in love with this girl. He didn't even know her! But of course, he didn't have a choice. He was just a pawn. Nothing more. If he was something more, then why would his parents abandon him? Dylan tried to shrug it off, but he knew that it was only because he was inadequate. Just a piece of the bigger picture, blah, blah, blah.