It's been two weeks since I first arrived at the Xavier Institute. I know, in the depths of my heart that I can't stay very much longer. I didn't WANT to stay this long... I've already grown attatched to so many people here. I never should have come here.

Something's going to happen soon, I know it. Images have been flooding my mind. All out of focus, which, unfortunately is one of the downfalls of an untrained psychic ability. But I can't do anything about it. I don't trust Professor Xavier. He keeps trying to tap into my thoughts and my past, though my psionic defenses are strong enough to keep him out.

I haven't told anyone. Everyone else here sees him as a 'father'.

I shiver from the cold, which brings me back to Earth. I'm sitting outside, staring up at the stars but not really seeing them. My breath comes in little puffs of fog.

"Pixie?" I hear Storm's voice behind me. "Are you okay? It's 49 degrees out here! Barefoot, in your pajamas... you'll get sick!" She drapes a blanket around my shoulders.

"I'll be fine. I've been through worse..." I avoid her eyes and stare down at my hands instead.

"But you're SAFE now, darlin'. You'll never have to..."

"There's no such thing as safe. Not for me." I push myself up, off the ground and walk away.

Behind me I hear the Professor's voice. "Let her go, Ororro. Our young friend may well do good with some time by herself."

"Shut up." I mumble. I make my way across the school yard, over the damp grass. I can hardly feel my toes anymore, but I really don't care. I just keep on walking.

"You don't feel like ya belong here, either, huh?"

I look up from the ground into the amused face of a guy I've never seen before. He's holding a lighter, which he opens and closes with a light :click: sound. I glance around. I've walked right off school grounds, not too far, but far enough to notice.

I pull the blanket tightly around me. "I don't belong anywhere. Who are you?"

He grins, looking me over. "Used to be St. John. Now the name's Pyro. And you?"

"Pixie."

"Well, Pix, nice ta meet ya." He walks closer and extends his hand.

I just stare down at his hand, then up into his face. "St. John? You friends with Bobby and Rogue?"

He makes a face. "Used ta be, 'till Bobby-boy decided he wanted to make a move on the un-moveable."

"Oh. I'm sorry."