So, Bobby's up first!

So, for anyone who read this chapter when it was incomplete, you'll notice that the flashbacks are a little different. I don't read the comics, so anything I know about them, I get from internet research. According to my old information, Bobby didn't really know he had powers before the incident with Rocky, but apparently he did. So I had to change that.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any other incarnation of the X-Men series. They all belong to Marvel.

WORD COUNT: 5822

Sunday, March 10th, 2002

LOCATION: FLORAL PARK, LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK

Normally the crunching of snow under his boots was comforting to Bobby. Normally he liked the sensation of the cold wind whispering across his face. Normally the last few days of winter were his 'live every moment like it was your last' days.

Normally, he wouldn't be trudging with his head down, through the slush, to his parents' house.

Each time he went there, every vacation, the atmosphere just got worse and worse. At first, his mother and father were compassionate with him. He confided in them about his worries about how he was having difficulty controlling his powers. Then, as he became more experienced, and more casual about the fact that he could freeze anything whenever the situation called for it – or when he just felt like icing something over for the sake of icing something over – they became nervous. They avoided discussions about his activities at the Institute, and focused more on his grades at Bayville High. Then the secret of the mutants was revealed to the world last year, and everything went south from there.

The first time he came home after that, he found the house covered in graffiti, spray-painted phrases scrawled on the windows, saying things like "Origin of Freaks" or "Mutie". The second he'd walked in the door, his father had rounded on him, saying he'd ruined everything. That it was all his fault.

It wasn't. He couldn't help the fact that his genes were a little different than most people.

He'd tried to get his mother's sympathies, but she just joined in with her husband, yelling and cursing at him. He'd turned right around and left, and soon he found himself in the middle of the city, surrounded by people who hated him. It was by pure chance that he'd caught sight of another house that'd been ravaged just like his, and even luckier that Evan just happened to be out front. Since then, he spent every holiday at the Daniels' house. It was way more fun than going back to the place he once called home. He'd argued with the Professor in private about coming back here, but the Prof had insisted that he visit at least once, if only to get closure.

The day he'd first developed his powers had happened right on the very sidewalk he was dragging himself along now. It all came back to him; the perfect night turned nightmare.

Friday, May 19th, 2000

It was the night any nearly-fourteen-year-old guy could dream of. There he was, with the most popular girl in his grade, Judy Harmon, on his arm, strolling along the sidewalk. They both had just had a great time at the carnival; Bobby had won her a large stuffed teddy for throwing ice cubes, of all the random objects in the world, into a bucket twenty feet away. Just thinking about it freaked him out a little. Only his parents knew about the strange things that happened around him, specifically when it came to ice.

At first, it hadn't seemed like much. After all, it'd been the middle of winter at the time. It started out small; the room would get colder whenever he walked in. Dad blamed it on the ancient heater that Mom refused to replace ("It hasn't blown up yet, so it's still useful!"). Then he just started getting colder. No matter what he did – blankets, hot drinks, sleeping by the fireplace – Bobby just couldn't stop shivering sometimes. Once or twice it got so bad that he called in sick, so that he wouldn't have to go to school. Of course, at that point, he and his parents really did think he was sick, and it wasn't like he was the only kid staying home at that time of year. But as the weather warmed up, he still had cold spells that seemed to fill the entire house. Their heating bill had gone up considerably, but they barely noticed the temperature difference inside. Then, one day Mom had made him some of her famous hot chocolate. It was frozen solid the second he touched the mug.

At that point, there was no more denying that something strange was happening to him. When he kept track of his 'cold spells', Bobby found that they happened only once a day. He was nervous when they day came for his date with Judy, but then the cold had come and gone before it was time to pick her up. So now he was in the clear.

His next plan was to take her out to dinner at any restaurant she chose, but the café she'd picked was too far away for them to walk there. So they were headed back to his house to beg his dad to drive them there. It was a little embarrassing on Bobby's part, but neither of them could drive yet. Anyway, it didn't matter. Once they got there, they would enjoy themselves. He'd been saving up all month so that he could afford their dinner.

"Judy! What's up, hon?"

Bobby gritted his teeth. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Rocky Beasely? The guy was a total dick! Months later, Bobby would notice that Scott and Duncan's interactions were scarily similar to the ones he had with this idiot.

Rocky jogged up from behind them, skidding to a stop so that he 'accidentally' bumped into the pair and forced them apart. "My bad," he 'apologised'.

"What do you want?" Bobby snapped. He'd been having too good a night to want to deal with this guy.

"Nothin'," the jock replied casually, sticking his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, "Why, am I interrupting something?"

"Yeah, our date."

"Date? You two are on a date?!" Rocky burst out laughing, increasing Bobby's annoyance. None of them noticed at the time just how cold it was getting. In hindsight, Bobby probably should've, but he was too pissed off to pay attention. "Yeah, right! Come on, Judy. How's about we ditch this doorknob? I know just the spot, nobody ever goes there, so you and me can have a little 'alone time.'"

Judy glared at him. Smart girl. "Would you listen to yourself?" she snapped, "I wouldn't be caught dead with you."

Rocky just grabbed her arm. "Hey!" Bobby yelled. He tried to pull them apart, but the bully shoved him to the ground.

"Stay out of this, Drake. Judy and I are having a conversation."

"Let me go!" Judy ordered Rocky, trying to break free. Beasely only grinned and pulled her closer.

"You heard her!" Bobby echoed, "Let go before I make you!" He pointed his finger threateningly at Rocky, and then it happened.

Within a second, a patch of frost appeared around the bully's feet – in the middle of May. It grew thicker and thicker and began to crawl up to his feet, until his knees, legs, chest, arms, neck, and finally his head were encased in solid ice.

Judy pulled away, her eyes bulging. "W-w-what..." she stammered, "What did you do?"

Bobby was frozen. Not literally, like Rocky, but frozen statue-still in shock. He stared at his hand. It was glowing. Glowing blue. Icy blue. His eyes darted between that and the ice sculpture that was once Rocky Beasely.

Did he just do that? No, that was impossible. He'd already gone through today's cold spell. He was supposed to be okay until morning, at the earliest. And most importantly, why was his hand glowing?!

He realised Judy was staring at his hand, too, with a terrified expression on her face. Bobby turned his hand over a few times, his uneasiness building every second. He shook it a few times, and the glow eventually faded.

"No way," he whispered, "Not again. What... what's going on with me?" H e looked up at Judy for support, but she was backing away.

"Stay away from me."

"What? No, Judy, please! I can explain!" He stood up, but she took several more steps back.

"Don't come any closer!"

"Judy, just calm down!" He reached out to her, but she screamed and started running. "Judy!"

Bobby finally came to a stop on the doorstep. He stared at the knocker for a long time, a cold look in his eyes that had nothing to do with his powers. He didn't expect any love behind that door. It'd been a long time since he had. Jubilee tugged a little on his arm, bringing him back to reality. "You okay?" she asked, her voice a near whisper, "You've barely said a word since this morning. Aren't you happy to see your parents again?"

Bobby sighed, reaching up and grasping the knocker. "You're about to find out," he replied.

He knocked three times. They'd never gotten a doorbell on the house; it'd been built decades ago, located in the older area of town. His parents had insisted on keeping it just the way it was. Their outdated beliefs had often gotten him teased at school, and more recently, they had practically disowned him from the family.

At first, it seemed nobody was home. Then footsteps could be heard inside. The door was slowly opened, and Bobby braced himself for the explosion, the cursing, the screaming.

Instead, Maggie Darwin stood in the door. Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. Good old Maggie, his favourite cousin. She definitely seemed shocked to see him, but then again, he hadn't expected to see her. After the Sentinel fiasco, when the world had been freaking out about the existence of mutants, she'd written him a long e-mail saying she didn't hate him and the others, that she and her parents weren't like that. Of course, it'd been a week until Bobby actually read the e-mail, but news like that never came too late. His parents, on the other hand, had practically gone to war against 'mutie-lovers' like Maggie's family. So the fact that she was standing in their house was a bit confusing.

"Bobby?" she asked.

"Hey, Mags," Bobby replied, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably, "Mom and Dad home?"

Maggie nodded, still staring at him. "Yeah. And before you ask, Grandma got sick of our moms fighting, so she dragged us here for a 'peace conference'." Maggie and Bobby's mothers were sisters.

Bobby found a little amusement in that. "Yeah, that sounds like Grandma, all right." Jubilee poked him lightly. "Oh, right. Maggie, this is my girlfriend Jubilee from the Institute. Jubes, meet my cousin Maggie."

Jubilee smiled, extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you," she said. Maggie grinned back and returned the handshake. "May we come in?"

"Hell yeah! Grandma's been just dying to see you again, Bobby, and I've told her everything you told me about your friends in your e-mails." She opened the door a little wider and stepped back so they could enter. "Come on, everyone's in the family room."

Bobby stepped in after Jubilee, still a little hesitant about all this. What would happen when he walked into the room? He silently pulled off his blue coat and hung it next to Jubilee's yellow one, even though he had a feeling he'd be needing it a minute later. Well, he wouldn't exactly need it; the chilly temperature outside was nothing. He could survive any cold weather, but people would give him funny looks if he walked around all year long in a t-shirt and shorts.

Maggie was the first to slip past the stairs and into the family room, where raised voices could be heard through the door. "Who was at the door, Magnolia?" That was definitely Grandma. No one else called Maggie by her real name, since she'd long since made it clear that she hated it with a passion. Jubilee had expressed similar dislike to her own name: Jubilation. What kind of parents came up with that?

"Bobby." Maggie's response instantly quelled down all the little arguments that'd been going on. "He's here with a friend."

"Well, for goodness sakes, bring him in!" Taking that as a cue, Bobby walked in with Jubilee, dragging his feet as he went. His mother and father were sitting on one sofa, while Uncle Greg and Aunt Charlie were opposite them, and Grandma was right in the middle in the rocking chair. Everyone but his mother and father greeted him with warm smiles, and for the first time in a long time, Bobby actually felt somewhat welcome there.

Aunt Charlie got right up and hugged him. "It's good to see you again, Bobby," she told him.

"Ditto," Uncle Greg piped up from his seat.

Bobby skipped over his parents and went straight to his grandmother. Her wrinkled face had stretched into a grin so wide it could've wrapped around her tiny head three times. She shakily put her spindly arms around him in a hug, which he gladly returned. "Oh, you've had me worried, Robert," she scolded him playfully, "I never heard from you at all. But then again, I guess Magnolia never told you I got an e-mail account set up."

Bobby smiled. "No, she didn't," he answered.

"Well, that explains everything." She kissed both of his cheeks. "You've grown up so much. I can hardly recognize you."

Jubilee giggled, and he remembered that people were watching. His face now three shades of red, he stood up and walked over to stand next to her and Maggie by Uncle Greg and Aunt Charlie's side of the room. For the first time since entering, he gave his parents a good look over.

His mother sat up straight, the way she always did when people were watching. She would never be caught relaxing, unless one caught her in her rose garden out back. Besides that, she was always bustling around the house, cleaning and cooking like a housewife from the 1950's. She eyed him with disdain, as if he were a lump of dirt in her otherwise spotless house.

His father was even worse. His expression held pure disgust, especially when they flickered over to Jubilee. Stupid racist. If it weren't for his life outside of home, Bobby was willing to bet he would've turned out just like him: arrogant and discriminating to anyone who wasn't of the Caucasian race. Or the human one, for that matter. They'd used to be best of friends, despite that difference of opinion, but when it became clear that something was different about him, it'd all fallen apart.

Bobby started after Judy, but another voice distracted him. "What's going on out here?" It was his father, standing in the doorway. His eyes travelled at first to Judy's retreating form, then to Rocky, and finally to Bobby, who probably looked terrified as hell at the moment.

"I... I don't know. We were just heading back here, so we could beg you to give us a lift to dinner, and this guy, Rocky, he goes to our school, he came up and started hitting on Judy. He grabbed her and I told him to let go, and then..." He gestured at the frozen boy, still in shock.

"Get inside," Dad told him, "Come on."

Bobby did as he was told, still rambling. "I don't know how it happened, but my hands were... they were glowing a second ago. I think... I know I did this. B-but that's not possible, right? I thought that stuff was done for the day. What if it's getting worse? What if I wake up one morning and find out I froze the entire neighbourhood, or something?" He was vaguely aware of being gently pushed into a chair, and a pair of hands stroking him.

It was Mom. "Bobby, please, calm down," she soothed him, "I'm sure that... whatever this is, we'll figure it out. I'll go make you some tea, all right?" She got up and left, blowing on her hands.

"I don't need anything."

"Yes, you do, honey. You're freezing. It's happening again. Aren't you cold?"

"Not really, no. I feel fine. You know, besides the fact that I just-"

"Don't think about it, son." Dad sat down beside him. "You have to calm down, you're starting to lose it."

Bobby took a deep, shuddering breath, which left his mouth in a visible, smoky puff. Dad was right. He had to remain calm.

It took only a minute for Mom to come back with the tea. She pressed the steaming cup into his hands and sat down on his other side. Bobby tried to take a sip, but instead of hot liquid, his lips met something cold and hard. He gasped as he realised that the tea had frozen solid in the cup, probably the second he'd touched it. His parents exchanged shocked looks once they realised it, and he felt panic beginning to build up in him again. His hands began shaking, and the teacup fell to the floor, shattering on impact. "Why is this happening to me?" he whispered, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

The sound of shouting voices could be heard outside the window. Dad got up and looked out the window. "Oh my God," he whispered. Against his better judgement, Bobby got up and ran over to seen what was going on outside.

Practically half the neighbourhood was gathered outside, all holding makeshift weapons. Several of them, he noted, were kids from school. Mr. Beasely, Rocky's father, was at the front, looking enraged. "Come on out!" he yelled, "You little freak! What did you do to my son?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?!" Bobby backed away from the window, collapsing on the couch. Mom was already on the phone, frantically calling the police.

"William, Madeleine," Grandma chided them, "Aren't you happy to see your son?" Bobby saw his father's knuckles whiten even more, if that was even possible.

He couldn't help it. "No, they're not," he spat, "They've made that obvious ever since people found out about mutants. I haven't even set foot in here since my first vacation after that, and it was only for a minute."

Jubilee gave him a surprised look. "But what about all the other holidays?" she asked him, "Amara said you never stayed at the Institute."

"I was at Evan's place. Warren's one time, when some punk decided to trash the place. Nobody knew he was Angel, so we could stay there without getting any grief. A whole lot better than what I got from these two."

"Robert..." Grandma began. She seemed to be at a loss for words. Aunt Charlie and Uncle Greg had gone back to glaring at his parents from across the room.

"They actually had me stuck in jail. Even if it was supposed to be 'for my own protection', it's still jail! If Scott hadn't shown up, I would've gone insane."

Bobby felt like a criminal behind those bars. And he didn't like it. Why was he in here again? Oh, yeah. When the police had arrived to deal with the mob slowly gathering outside their house, he and his parents had slipped out the back and into a waiting squad car. At the station, the sheriff had gone on about how the crowd would come looking for him, so they had to place him somewhere safe. 'And what's safer than a jail cell?' Bobby thought sarcastically as he kicked the wall in frustration. What was even worse was that his parents agreed to it. They said they only wanted whatever kept him safe. He had to agree that there wasn't any other place he could go. There was no telling what his friends' reactions would be, and home was definitely not an option.

He flopped onto the hard cot and stared at the ceiling. What was happening to him? This wasn't normal stuff. These... powers of his weren't natural at all. What was he?

He felt the freezing sensation spreading through him, just like it'd started earlier back home. It was weird. Normally his cold spells started very abruptly. One second he was fine, and the next, he was shivering like mad. But this time, the transition was slower; he hadn't even been aware of it at the start. In fact, after he'd frozen his tea, he'd felt a little warmer inside. Like all that cold had left him for a bit, like it was being... released.

A small explosion sound startled Bobby out of his thoughts, and he sat bolt upright just in time to see the back wall of his cell being blasted apart. Dust filled the air as alarms went off. Blinded, Bobby tried calling for help, but the choking cloud made it impossible to breathe. As he coughed and tried to clear his throat, Bobby felt a hand grab his arm and pull him out of the building.

"That boy blew up the police station," Bobby's mother hissed, the first time she'd spoken since he'd entered.

"It was just one part of the wall," he reminded her, "It's not like he went and blasted the whole building to bits!" Although he could have if he'd wanted to. "What do you have against us, anyway? Everything was fine until the whole Sentinel disaster."

"The what?" Uncle Greg interrupted.

"Those huge robots my friends were fighting in the streets. They're called Sentinels. Machines built to destroy us and anything or anyone who gets in their way just because our genes are a little different." His frustration was building with every word as he recalled more and more of the unfairness that he'd been on the receiving end of, just because of his DNA.

Once they were out of the dust, he got a look at his – kidnapper? Rescuer? The guy was barely older than Bobby himself, but significantly taller. He had on a weird suit made of dark blue spandex, of all things, and a gold and red visor that covered his eyes. "Don't say anything," he told Bobby, "Just wait until we're far enough away before you ask any questions."

Bobby was in too much shock to say a word until they were about three blocks away from the station. They ran all the way, and Bobby was soon breathless trying to match the other boy's pace. The guy pulled him into an alley and finally stopped.

"Who are you?" Those were the first words out of Bobby's mouth as soon as he got back his ability to talk.

"My name is Scott, Scott Summers. Listen, I know you've had a rough night, Bobby, but I need you to come with me. There's a place out in Bayville-"

"I'm n-not going anywhere unt-til you tell me how the hell you know m-m-m-my name!" Bobby interrupted, his inner temperature dropping rapidly with every word. Weird enough things had happened already without him getting dragged off who knows where.

"It's okay, I just want to help. Look, I know about your powers; I know what happened. And I understand what you're going through better than you'd think-"

"Y-y-yeah, right! How c-could you p-p-possibly underst-stand what's b-been happ-p-p-p-happening to m-m-me?" At that, Bobby's hands began to glow blue again. The cold that'd been spreading all over him accumulated there, completely numbing his fingertips.

"Okay, calm down." This guy, Scott, backed up a few steps. "Like I said, I'm here to help. I just need you to come-"

"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" With a flash, all the cold left Bobby's hands in the form of ice. Solid ice. Shaped like sharp projectiles, they hurled towards Scott at a deadly speed. Another flash, this one red, and they vanished. Bobby was shocked to realise that it'd come from Scott's visor.

"That's enough," a new voice stated. Bobby spun around to see a small group of people approaching them. At the front was a bald man in a wheelchair, who appeared to be the speaker. "I assure you, Bobby, no one is here to harm you. My name is Professor Charles Xavier. I run a school in Bayville for gifted youngsters. And by 'gifted', I mean people with your sorts of abilities." Bobby glanced at the rest of his group. There was a redheaded girl in the back, one with dark brown hair in a ponytail, a boy that had some sort of spikes sticking out of his shoulders, another girl with white bangs, a woman with pure snow-white hair, and a fuzzy blue creature with cat-like yellow eyes. This was just freaky. Did they really have the same powers he did? "Yes, and no," Xavier responded. Bobby was more than a little startled to realise that the man had answered his thoughts. "We all have different powers, powers that most humans do not possess. I myself am a telepath. I can read people's thoughts and project into their minds."

"As in, he can talk to you all, like, in your head," the brunette girl added, "It's way better than a PA system."

"BOBBY!" They all turned to see Bobby's parents racing up the street, looking frantic.

"Mom! Dad!" His mother rushed up and practically strangled him in a hug.

"We were so worried," she whispered, "After the explosion, they said you were missing. Are you all right?"

Bobby nodded. "I'm fine, Mom." He gestured in Professor Xavier's direction. "Mom, Dad, this is Professor Xavier. He runs some sort of school up in Bayville for people with powers, like me."

Xavier rolled forward. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Drake," he greeted them formally, holding out his hand. He shook with both of Bobby's parents. "I have come to offer your son a place at my school. He will learn to control his abilities properly, so as to avoid another encounter like tonight." He turned to the redheaded girl. "Jean, did you wipe their minds?"

"Yes, Professor," the girl, Jean, replied, "Nobody remembers a thing about what happened to Rocky Beasley, or Scott's not-so-stealthy jailbreak. They think it was a faulty gas pipe."

Scott's face flushed red. "Yeah, sorry about that," he mumbled, "I guess it would've been easier to send Kitty or Kurt in, huh?"

"Perhaps we could continue this discussion elsewhere," the white-haired lady suggested, "We won't be able to stand out here much longer without attracting attention."

"Indeed, Storm," the Professor agreed, "Kurt, if you will transport us back to the Drake home? That is, if they are all right with that." Mom hesitated, then nodded. Dad did the same, but seemed more reluctant.

"Alright, zen," the blue creature spoke up in a German accent. Mom half-shrieked when she actually noticed him. "I get zat all ze time," he replied, sounding a little depressed. Bobby couldn't help but feel bad for the guy, even though he barely knew him. "Let's go." Xavier's group all crowded around him, and Scott brushed past Bobby to take Jean's hand.

The spiky kid offered Bobby his. "You'll all need to stay in physical contact if you want to be teleported along with the rest of us," he explained, "Don't worry, man, it doesn't hurt. It just smells a little." Choosing not to question that last statement, Bobby took the boy's hand. Mom was still hanging onto him, and Dad had one hand on her shoulder. Bobby gave a nod to the blue guy – Kurt – and suddenly they were in the living room back home.

It was a second later when the sulphurous odour reached his nose, and now he understood what the other guy had meant. Said spiky guy immediately made himself at home and flopped down onto the couch. "Evan!" the white-haired woman – the Professor had called her Storm, right? – scolded him, "We're guests here."

Evan looked sheepish as he got up. "Oh, yeah. Sorry Auntie O."

Mom steered Bobby over to the couch and sat him down, even though she looked like she was the one a little weak in the knees. "So what did you want to tell us about this school of yours?" she asked the Professor.

Professor Xavier smiled. "The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters is a school for children who display peculiar abilities, such as your son here. They learn how to control their powers, and how to use them responsibly. Ms. Munro here is one of the instructors..." He gestured to Storm "...and everyone else here with me is a student; Scott, Jean, Kitty, Rogue, Kurt, and Evan." Each kid nodded or waved when their name was mentioned.

The girl with the white bangs – Rogue – spoke up from her spot near the lamp. "This is the entire student body right here." She had a distinct Southern Belle accent.

'Wow,' Bobby thought, 'Can you even qualify as a school with only...' He counted them. '...six students?'

'That's why we rushed here so fast when we detected you.' Bobby jumped as the Professor's voice echoed in his head.

"Whoa!" he gasped. Mom and Dad glanced at him, confusion written all over their faces.

"He did the whole 'talking in your head' thing, didn't he?" The brunette – Kitty – asked. Bobby nodded, surprised at her nonchalance over the whole thing. "Yeah, you get used to it after, like, a couple weeks or so."

"Anyway," Storm interrupted, bringing the conversation pack on its original path, "we would be delighted if you would allow your son to attend, Mr. and Mrs. Drake. He will receive the training he needs, and he will be among others who are going through a similar experience."

Bobby turned to his parents. He liked the idea of this school. Mom and Dad, on the other hand, didn't seem convinced. "I don't know..." Dad mused, "I'm not entirely comfortable with this." The look on his face suggested he was closer to a 'no' than a 'yes'.

"Dad," Bobby half-whined, inwardly wincing at how much he sounded like a little kid, "I want to go. I trust these people. Please, Dad."

Dad sighed. "Fine," he relented, "We'll do it."

Bobby hugged him and Mom. "Thanks." He couldn't help the big grin that was spreading on his face. He was going someplace where he wouldn't feel like a freak, someplace where he didn't have to hide what he could do.

"Enough of this," his father snapped, "You know you're not welcome in this house. How dare you come strutting in here and act like you belong anywhere?" At this, Uncle Greg stood up, but Bobby's father just went on undeterred. "You stopped being our son the second you became one of them! Now get out!"

Bobby clenched his fists. Mr. Drake's words cut him like a dull, jagged knife. "FINE!" he shouted, "I'VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN STAND AROUND AND TAKE CRAP FROM AN ASSHOLE LIKE YOU!" And with that, he turned and stormed out.

No one was at the park, so he sat down on the cold metal bench. It was only then that he let the tears he'd been holding back fall. They froze halfway down his cheek.

Anyone passing by would've noticed the wind picking up and a thick snow suddenly beginning to fall. Some might blame it on the unstable climate. Others would figure out that it was the doing of a mutant.

"Bobby!" He looked up to see Jubilee and Maggie running up to him, the latter carrying his coat over her arm. The former reached him first, stopping right in front of where he sat. "Bobby, are you okay?" He opened his mouth, but couldn't get any sound out. He honestly didn't know the answer.

Was he okay? He was so full of pain, anger, confusion, the list went on. So he supposed he'd have to say no. He wasn't okay. But he couldn't put it to words.

"Bobby, please," Jubilee begged, putting a hand on each of his shoulders, "Talk to me." Bobby gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and screwed his eyes shut. He now knew exactly how to describe how he was feeling, but he couldn't say it. He'd blow up, something he couldn't bear forcing Jubilee to witness. More tears poured out, pretty much covering the sides of his face with ice as they froze.

He felt her sit down beside him and put both arms around his trembling body. It was hard to tell which one of them was shaking worse; she was shivering like mad from the cold he was emitting. If he didn't calm down, he could wind up killing her, at this rate. Bobby started taking slow, even breaths, willing the blizzard to dissipate and his temperature to rise a little. Only when he felt he was calm enough did he open his eyes. Maggie and Jubilee were both staring at him, looking worried as hell.

"No," he whispered, "I'm not okay. My own parents hate me, they don't want anything to do with me. I don't have a family anymore."

"Hey!" Maggie interrupted, "What does that make me and my Mom and Dad? Chopped liver? You still have us, and you can't forget Grandma."

"And what about me and all the other kids at the Institute?" Jubilee continued, "You and Sam have been like brothers since you first met, Jamie looks up to you like his personal role model, and you once told me the Professor was more like a father to you than your actual dad. And don't forget the Daniels' and Warren. They took you in several times! Wake up, Bobby, you have plenty of family. If your mom and dad have a problem with what you are, screw them! You shouldn't care about what they think, got it?"

Bobby stared at her, trying to process her long speech. She was right. Who needed the Drakes? He had so much more now than anything they could've offered him. His best friends, his mentors, Grandma, Aunt Charlie, Uncle Greg, Maggie, and of course Jubes. He couldn't imagine where he'd be without them. Especially Jubes.

A small smile formed, a little strained, but only because the ice on his cheeks had frozen around his face to fit the expression he'd worn when he'd been in so much pain and turmoil a minute ago. "Thanks," he said, "You're right. I'm done with those two. Who needs 'em, anyway?"

Maggie laughed and hugged him. "That's more like it," she told him, "The whole 'Depressed Bobby' thing just doesn't seem normal."

"Since when is he ever normal?" Jubilee commented.

Bobby's smile grew into a playful smirk. "Hey, I resent that," he joked, willing the snow on a branch above them to come down on her head.

"Oh, so that's how you want to play. Alright." She grabbed a fistful of snow from the miniature mountain on her head and shoved it into his face.

Roaring with laughter, the three of them scattered and began a furious snowball fight.

Next up is Rahne! Her story won't include as much of Moira McTaggert (I think I spelled that right), but other than that, I think it's accurate.