Why Me?

Chapter 4


Authoress' notes: Chapter 5 is already 13 pages long and growing daily! : D I just have to figure out what the current roster is for the X team since I don't really buy the single books anymore. I found it much more economical to buy the graphic novel instead. I say that but I do occasionally peek and does anyone else think that Hope Summers is a little too Mary-Sue? I know, I know, I have all the nerve in the world but honestly, super powered savior? Ugh.

Special thanks: ZeldaAddict42 is the most wonderful, magnanimous person to ever aid me! She is the Why Me? beta-reader who tackles this in its raw form and fires it into something grammatically more pleasing! :D :D lovelovelove!


"W-what?" I whispered out as my body started to tremble.

"You didn't tell me you were going to say that!" Bobby shouted. I felt his hands on my shoulders, but I couldn't tell you much of what happened after that.

Fear, like air, was everywhere and the more I tried to deny it, the deeper the breaths. Stitch hit the floor as I slowly covered my ears with my hands, I dropped my chin to my chest as I started to shake it from side to side in a silent protest.

Tears blurred my world as images from the past took over.

The cages, screams—the pain and blood.

My blood splattered on the floor as I tried to get out.

Blood covering my hands where the wounds bled that I had gotten from them. Things, scary things, I couldn't even remember and I didn't want to remember.

They wanted to send me back. They were going to send me back and let me rot down there.

Scott said my rescue was a fluke, a chance happening due to a bad lead about a different problem. Maybe he didn't want me around at all.

He stopped looking for me.

My mind swirled, and my past and present smeared together in one undivided mess.

Outside of the memories, I heard nothing. However, the needle being shoved into my skin was real enough to jolt me out of the haze if only for a second.

It was only then I realized how light headed I was and how quickly I was breathing. Concern colored everyone's faces.

When did Dr. Hank get here, I absently wondered.

I could barely comprehend the few soothing words Dr. Hank said before I was thrown over the Sandman's shoulder and dumped into Dreamland.

"Pool party!" Pixie shouted as she burst through the door of our bedroom.

In surprise, Hisako jumped back in her seat while I was slightly less graceful as I completed a very unwanted back flip off the top bunk.

THUNK.

"Ouch," I muttered, rubbing the back of my head.

"What are you talking about?"

No, I'm okay. Thanks for asking. I rolled my eyes and clambered to my feet.

Pixie (Megan) was already digging through her drawers, clothes flying over her shoulder as she hummed and bounced on her toes.

When she found whatever she was looking for, she whirled around, with a wide grin and eyes nearly sparkling.

"They finally finished the pool! Mr. Summers said it was okay to go in! Which means," she paused as her grin turned into a giddy school girl's smile. She proudly held up the top of her swimsuit and announced, "Bikini time!"

Hisako turned a lovely pink shade, and I covered my face with the hood of the sweatshirt.

"Come on!" Pixie prompted, grabbing my arm and shaking me a bit to make sure she had my attention. "It'll be fun!"

"I will wear my one piece; I refuse to wear a bikini just because," Hisako stated.

"What about you, Kookie?" Megan questioned as she started to strip.

I pulled back my hood enough to give her a 'yeah right' look.

"It'll be fun! Iceman will be there." She stopped changing clothes long enough to nudge me with her elbow and give me a teasing grin. "He'll make it fun! He always does."

I felt my cheeks burn like mini sunspots.

"Yeah, totally fun, like the time he froze half the pool because Gambit ticked him off." Bad jokes were one way to try and weasel out of an embarrassing situation.

"Whatever." I could hear her smile in her voice. "Besides, you've been holed up in here for, like, a week."

Her wings fluttered a bit as she took off her bra and slipped her bikini top over her head and then around her back.

A pang hit my chest when I saw her wings dance like that.

"And your point would be?" I muttered.

"It can't be a self-esteem issue," Hisako pointed out, slipping out of her own tee-shirt. "At least not anymore, not after –uh, I mean to say is—uhm, nevermind."

It wasn't a body issue (for once).

It was two different things.

It was an avoiding-dad-at-all-costs thing and hide-the-wicked-scars-on-my-back thing.

Ever since Dad let Bobby and me actually see each other again and then promptly told me that he wanted me to go back to the hell hole I'd come from, I had been in my dorm room as much as possible. I slipped back into covert Kookie, dodging and ducking the man like he was zombie or something.

Meanwhile, Bobby and I kept in touch through our cell phones.

It was as if he knew he'd come up in the conversation because my phone started to vibrate on Laura's bed (I had dropped it there from my top bunk and was attempting to retrieve it right before Pixie came in, and thus the reason for my inglorious flip).

"It's from Mr. Drake, isn't it?" Megan flipped her pink hair over a shoulder and dramatically batted her eyelashes, while wearing this incredibly goofy grin.

Ignoring her, I picked up my phone and made it light up.

/ The pool is open. Coming? /

My lip twitched as I read the message. After I hit the 'reply' button, my phone vanished from my hands before I could type out my response.

"Lemme handle this!" Megan's fingers were faster than my response as I stood by for a second too long because by the time I tried to grab the phone back, she'd already sent the message.

/ Yup! Cant w8 2 c u. /

My mouth dropped open, and Megan giggled at my reaction.

"I—how—why!" I fumbled out.

"Like that isn't what you wanted to say," she teased.

Hisako read the messages over my shoulder and broke into a fit of laughter.

Pixie grabbed her towel, flung it over her shoulder and turned to me before she left. "Don't keep him waiting too long; there are other girls with their eyes on him."

Hisako encouraged me to go, and soon I was left alone in the room. I bit my lip and decided to delve into my bag of stuff.

Yes, I was still too lazy to put my things in the closet or in a drawer. There wasn't really room for four girls in this room plus all their things. What was Scott thinking?

It took some digging, but I finally unearthed the ghastly bathing suit the salesperson had picked out when Dad had taken me shopping. I didn't even really look at it until I was back at Mr. Warren's house.

It was a two piece, and for some unknown reason, it had ruffles on the back of the bottom part. The top was neon orange and glittery with buttons and bows.

What about me said that I could possibly be the neon orange, glitter and ruffles type girl!

My phone buzzed again.

/ :D Can't wait to see you either. You should stop by my room first to approve of your swimwear. No promises we'll ever get to the pool /

I stuck my tongue out at the phone and tossed it onto my bed.

As I held up the top, my stomach fainted from disbelief as I had forgotten that there were no straps. It was like a friggin' bright orange band-aid.

Pushing down the voice that was repulsed and shocked as it asked if I was seriously going to try that thing on, and unfortunately, I did. I tried it on.

So it wasn't as band-aid-ish as I had originally thought. It was more like a strapless bra.

A push-up, strapless bra.

I was just glad that it wasn't white; Emma might have wanted it to be her next uniform for missions.

The bottom on wasn't much better than the top. In fact, it was equally as horrid.

The ruffles were just the start. There was this little belt thingy that did nothing but hold up this freaking big belt buckle that had the maker's logo stamped on it.

Grabbing my towel, my very, very large towel, I wrapped it around myself and with my dignity locked away in the far corner of my mind, I headed toward the pool.


"Are you actually wearing anything under that?" Hisako asked after she swam to the edge of the pool. I was still wrapped in my towel, sitting in one of the chairs by the pool. I didn't have enough guts to actually show off the swimsuit while I was wearing it.

"Yes," I answered firmly, pulling the towel tighter around me.

I was wrapped up tighter than a burrito.

Everyone was in the pool or sitting around the side. It was an indoor pool, and the walls of the room were made of thick glass that reached about twenty to thirty feet high.

Even Dr. Hank was doing a cannonball off the diving board.

"Come on, Kookie," Bobby tried to persuade me. He had gotten out of the pool when I showed up and had taken up residence in the chair next to me ever since. It was only five minutes, but it felt like months.

The weirdest thing was—I didn't know what to class Bobby as.

We never really ever broke up so we couldn't be exes.

He never really said we were still together, so I guess it wasn't like I could claim that either.

Were we just friends then?

Or was this a soap operaish pick-up-where-you-left-off thing?

"I came so I wouldn't be accused of being anti-social again." It wasn't entirely true. I didn't really care about the swimsuit as much as I did my scars on my body. I was pretty sure most people here would know where I had gotten them from and why and therefore wouldn't ask or stare, but it still made me self-conscious.

My teeth were falling out, my hair was incredibly short, and they wanted me to parade around the pool like I was proud of those factors? Ha!

Bobby bopped me on the head lightly.

"Come on, I know you're always bashful about showing your body, but –"

"I can't." I didn't want to explain it. I turned my head away, feeling the sadness trying to edge into my current state.

"Come on," Bobby said. He grabbed my hand that was holding the lower half of my towel shut and pulled me up. Without a word, he headed off toward the locker room area.

"Where are you going with her, Drake?" Dad asked loudly.

"We'll be back," Bobby responded and then added with an evil little grin, "eventually."

"Stay away from the street corners," Mr. Logan added. I think Bobby froze his beer solid because when Mr. Logan went to take a sip, he started to cuss and glared at us.

"Five minutes," Scott warned, "and then I'm coming in after you."

I rolled my eyes as we disappeared into the male locker room. Bobby made a quick search of the room, and when it turned up empty, he locked the door.

Yeah, that didn't make me nervous.

He straddled a bench and crossed his arms over his chest, blue eyes staring at me.

"Take it off."

My eyes enlarged, my mind was building a fire to burn him on, and I shrank away from him, tightening my hold on the towel.

"You do realize I still have my strength don't you?" I squeaked out. He tipped his head to the side.

"Take it off, Kookie."

"I was arrested once by mistake, keep this up and the next time will be for beating the stupid out of you."

"Take it off, Summers."

"Okay, fine. Murder."

His eyes rolled as he let out a sigh.

I felt even shyer about being alone with him in a locked room, since he was half dressed and I was-well, just as half dressed.

"Take it off," he ordered again, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"I see we have to do this the hard way." With a wicked smile, he stood up and started toward me.

I hurriedly backed up to the wall.

"Stay right there!" I warned.

"Or what?" Bobby gave a playful smirk as he slowed but kept coming closer. "You'll throw your towel at me?"

My mouth opened to say what I would do when I realized that, horror of horrors, he was right. My mind was screaming as it ran around my head with its hands on its face as it realized I had really nothing to defend myself with but the beloved towel.

Then again I could always spit out one of my loose teeth and lob it at his head. It might puncture his inflated ego. Or just completely gross both of us out.

I let out a whimper as he blocked off my side exits by icing the floor around me.

"Bobby-" I begged him.

He put a hand on either side of my body, further trapping me. My brain scooted back in my skull as far as it could and then sprouted yellow feathers and a beak.

All I needed to prove I was a chicken was to lay an egg.

"What is going on, Kookie?" he asked in a near-whisper. Bobby made sure that he kept my eyes forward by touching my forehead with his.

I think my brain wet itself and it got in my throat because suddenly I had to swallow hard to even try to speak.

"N-nothing."

"Bull. You are normally shy about your body, but not like this. Not with me." He almost purred the last part, and my face lit up like a street light.

We might never have gone all the way but—well, I still had hormones back then like I do now and well—uhm, I don't know how to say this, but I can say that clothes always, always stayed on!

Not always in place—just the thoughts of what we used to do made my cheeks flare a lovely red color. I could have burst into flames, and not the Phoenix kinda flames either, like the permanently 'here lies me, rest in peace' type flames.

"I—I just don't wanna," I said lamely.

Bobby lightly bumped me on the forehead with his. He pulled back slightly so that we made eye contact, and I just couldn't take it. I turned my head away from him, the heat of my blush rising into a raging bonfire.

When I slowly turned back to him, I felt pain and joy.

Did I mention how attached I still was to this guy?

Even if his hair was still dripping with water from the pool, even if I didn't know what the heck we were relationship-wise, even if I was self-conscious about my scars and lack of teeth, he still got to me in a way no one else could.

When he chuckled at my avoidance of eye contact, I felt goosebumps crop up on my arms and on the back of my neck.

As if that wasn't enough, he leaned in more until his mouth was right next to my ear. I wasn't sure if I was going to start shaking or giggling wildly, but I knew something was going to erupt from me in a very unexpected way if he kept this up!

"Don't you trust me?" Bobby whispered into my ear, his lips brushing ever so slightly against my skin as he spoke.

"I—" Then I swallowed hard.

He took this as an encouragement, putting his forearms on the wall, and our bodies were closer than they had been since I'd been back. I could feel the heat from his skin on mine.

The urge to either push him away or grab him and kiss him, hard, started to bubble up in a very dangerous way.

I turned my face away, looking at the door, wondering if five minutes had passed or not. Where was Dad? Shouldn't he be busting down the door to save my honor or something!

Being distracted was more than Bobby could stand as I heard him sigh.

I clamped my eyes shut. I wanted to trust him. I wanted things to be better than they were before. I didn't want to tiptoe around issues and create problems that neither of us wanted to believe were there. Which meant that someone had to take the first step out on the barb-wire, and that would have to be me.

"What?"

"I—I said okay." I kept my eyes shut, and with what little strength I could manage to find, I bundled up my courage in my stomach and held on to it tightly as I allowed my precious towel to fall to the ground.

I waited. I didn't know what to think when I didn't hear a laugh or a noise of disgust. I knew my body wasn't that great. It was even more evident when you compared it to the flawless female physic of his teammates.

"Kerry." I didn't have the guts to look at him, and my name was spoken softly but warmly. My body so tightly wound that my muscles began to ache from holding my arms straight down by my sides and my stomach taut.

I felt his hair tickle my cheek as he whispered my name again, this time almost in my ear.

As rigid as I was, him being so close and his breath on my neck made me shiver.

My eyes flew open when I felt his hair sliding down my neck, and if I could, I would have climbed up the wall when I felt his lips on the hollow of my throat.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, "Always beautiful, Kerry."

There was nooo hiding the blush that covered my face and spread like a rash down my neck and across my chest. Tears started to burn my eyes like smoke had just been blown in them.

I was just trying to remember to breathe when I felt a sudden jerk on my bikini top.

"Wh-what are you doing!" My heart rate smashed through the roof and was on a direct path to the moon.

I would have glared at him, but I had to hold my chin up because he was still at my throat, and then I heard him give a nervous laugh.

"It's stuck." Bobby could barely lift his head to look up at me.

"What is stuck?"

"My necklace is hooked on your top." I could see the tips of his ears start to turn red. Good, at least I wasn't the only one who was embarrassed at this point.

"Then take off your necklace!"

"I can't, it was welded," he admitted, jerking up lightly, testing to see how caught he was.

I yelped as I felt my bathing top move with his motions and barked that he stop.

"You're going to have to take your top off."

Then I'd have to kill him and whoever might see us.

Not to say I wasn't going to kill him for making such a suggestion.

"Excuse me?" He was hooked on one of the bows that were sewed between the cups of the top. To any onlookers, it would look like he was burying his nose into my chest.

"It's either you lose your top or we're going to have to ask for help, your pick." If I wasn't ready to dissolve into a fit of panicked tears, I would have sworn the man was amused by this fiasco.

"Why can't I just rip the necklace off?" I suggested.

"Because it was a pain to get the more durable metal and to have it welded on."

"It isn't worth my modesty!"

Then the one thing I'd been hoping for only a moment before happened, someone came through the door.

Actually, she came under the door-as a silver puddle of goo.

That silver puddle took the form of a girl.

That girl took one look at Bobby and me, and her eyes got big. Before we could say anything, she shouted out.

"Mr. Summers, Mr. Drake has his nose in her boobs!"


"Kookie, are you even paying attention?"

"Yeah," I replied automatically.

In truth, I was wondering if shoving a sharpened pencil in my ear would induce enough brain damage to get me off the hook as Emma's flunkie.

Emma gave me a skeptical stare, but then she started to point out various things about the office space that I'd be forced to occupy.

There was a wall full of frosted windows, on other walls were elegant paintings, and the entire room was fitted with dark and tasteful furniture. Then there was me who was cross-legged on the floor.

The Wonder-bra Queen strutted effortlessly in her four inch heels and tailored white suit as she went over all my duties. Even as she tossed her head from side to side, not a single strand of bleach-blonde hair moved.

While I on the other hand was sporting hot pink Cookie Monster sleep pants, Josh's on-loan sweatshirt, and Bugs Bunny slippers. My hair was the crowning disglory. I hadn't brushed it, and it was sticking up like I went swimming with a toaster before I came here.

Of course, what did they expect me to look like after Emma had Miss Rogue haul me from the breakfast table with a bagel hanging outta my mouth?

"Do you understand?" Emma's tone was sharper than her horns.

"Sure do!" I replied with a smile.

I met her eyes, and it was only then that I noticed they were narrowed.

Her lips twitched into a frown for a nanosecond before they returned to the flat line of indifference.

Sucks 'cause you can't read my mind, right, I thought smugly on the inside. On the outside, I just continued to smile.

Emma turned her plastic-surgery-perfected nose away and merely said that I needed to start as soon as I had pried myself from the floor and dressed in more appropriate attire befitting someone who worked for not only the X-Men but for her.

"I'll break out the whip," I mumbled as I left.


"For the last time," I huffed out, "it wasn't like it seemed."

"You were standing there half naked. How could that be misunderstood?" Chris demanded as we were walking around the grounds later that week.

He was reporting on a long term mission when the silver-puddle-of-goo girl, named Mercury, made the less than flattering discovery of Bobby and me in the locker room. Chris lit up like a firecracker and pretty much just fried all the electronics in the room.

"I was already 'half naked' even with the entire swimsuit on." I felt the blush burn my cheeks again. "Bobby's necklace got stuck on the top. When Dad decided to blast in the door, Bobby freaked and pulled up too fast and ripped it off of me."

"What the hell was he doing so close to your chest that he would even get caught on your top?"

I groaned and rolled my eyes. I didn't want this conversation, again.

Dad knew the truth because Bobby, after he escaped the wrath of Chris, demanded that Emma read his memory and show Dad exactly what happened.

She agreed and Dad learned, but for some reason he wanted to humiliate me further because Chris wasn't allowed to know the details. Chris was still threatening to fry Bobby in the next puddle that the Ice Boy stepped in.

It took two days for me to be coaxed out of my room and back into public. I didn't care how much I wanted to talk to Chris or straighten out the rumor about what had been going on in the locker room; I just couldn't face anyone.

It was bad enough that Megan and Hisako weren't letting it drop until they had what they thought was the entire back story to the locker room incident.

"It doesn't matter; he wasn't doing anything like you're thinking, so could we please drop it, and could you please stop shorting out his car?" Yes, pettiness was still as popular as it ever was among the mutant 'heroes'.

"Fine, but if I see him doing that again, I'm not sending flowers to the funeral," Chris grumbled.

I gave a small smile and shook my head.

He was just as stubborn and sarcastic as before, but there was definitely a new maturity about Chris. For one, he didn't start just calling me names and letting us fall into that old song and dance of jabs and low-blows. Although the latest mess I was in certainly would make it hard to believe his temper was less touchy than it used to be.

If you ignored the death-to-Bobby campaign he was leading of course.

Chris hadn't changed in personality so much as he had physically.

First thing I noticed was that his hair was cut shorter. It was longer in the front and faded into a shaved area in the back. His shoulders seemed wider, or maybe it was because the boy had 'filled out' over the months I was gone. No more just ragged t-shirts and dirty jeans; the shirts were neater and lacking a band or computer game logo, and his jeans were clean and fit better to his body.

To put it simply, Chris had turned into a total drool-inducing hottie.

It was so hard to keep my eyes straight and not indulge in the new eye-candy walking beside me.

Tell me I wasn't being stupid. This was Chris.

What was even worse was that he seemed totally oblivious to the fact he was looking so good.

And here I was looking like a stick with a fuzzy patch of hair and missing teeth. It would just figure just when he was at his peak of hotness, I looked like three day old, maggot covered dog vomit.

…Ew, that was a bit too much imagery for me.

For the sake of privacy, he decided that we should 'catch up' by walking into the woods right after dinner. The sun was just starting to set, so everything had a romantic glow (yes, I was being a girly-girl but honestly I wouldn't be female if I didn't get girly-girl with Chris the Gorgeous beside me). I didn't have a problem with this; I just hoped Sparky knew the way back.

Then again, I wouldn't be mind being lost in the woods with him at that point.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! I mentally yelled at myself. This is Chris!

"I didn't believe them when they told me you were found," Chris admitted out of the blue, his voice low.

"Huh?" He spoke English, Kerry! Sheesh, use that wad of gum you call a brain! "Why not?" Oh, sure, that was just so much better.

Those denim blue eyes glanced over at me, and I felt my cheeks flare. The boy was more a man now, and in the light of the setting sun just amplified that fact.

"I didn't want to get my hopes up." I have to say that his flat out and seemingly honest answer really touched me. "But when Surge started to talk about 'the new Summers' girl' and how she got into a fight with Julian right after she moved in—"

"He started it!" I yelped defensively, stomping a foot to make my point.

Chris grinned.

I crossed my arms and muttered under my breath. "Well, he did."

He laughed and roughed up my hair.

"Still a brat."

I turned, stuck out my tongue, and stomped off in an overly dramatic way.

I was only going to go a few steps, and then stop but what Chris said next froze my entire body and made my heart black out in disbelief.

"I really missed you, Ker."

My natural reaction was to reply with some sassy sting, but my brain fainted again, and my common sense desperately tried to revive it. I—to hear that—it was almost like it broke my heart in a pleasant way. To know I was missed, that someone noticed I was gone and cared meant more to me than—than something. I couldn't even compare it to anything else, that's how much I realized I needed to hear it, and sincerely spoken.

But did I let that show? Nope. So I deflected the comment with humor.

"Well, I'm back, so your aim should be better." I didn't even turn around. I couldn't. I folded my arms behind my head and pretended to be taking in the sunset.

On the outside, I was the picture of cool collectiveness.

On the inside, I could picture my inner self balled up in a fetal position, rocking back and forth while muttering incoherent words.

"Daisy's dead."

Still.

Perfectly still.

No words, no thoughts, no breathing.

My mouth moved, but no words came out. It was only the burning of my lungs that forced me to take in a breath.

My arms, like lead, fell to my sides. Something funny jumped in my chest, a hot ache of shock and pain.

Chris didn't come up from behind me. I felt my fingers go numb, but tears only threatened to fall, they wouldn't come.

I knew better than to ask what; I didn't want to hear him say it again. Things change, everyone changes. Wasn't that the theory of evolution pushed down to the rusted nails?

Adapt or die?

"When?" My voice didn't break on that one word, thankfully but my voice was already raspy.

"On M-day; well, it was because of M-Day." M-day was what the X-people have come to call the day when 90-something percent of mutants became depowered.

My vision blurred, and I heard him move to my side.

"She had been going around to different hospitals, collecting diseases, cancers, and stuff." His voice wasn't flat like I thought it would be; it was tender, almost like a calm lake reflecting the sky but never feeling the warmth. "She," he gave a humorless scoff, "was feeling useless because Josh didn't need to store up things like she did, so she was going overboard on it."

My eyes closed, and images of the round face brunette bloomed in my head like weeds in a garden.

"No one knew they didn't have their powers until the next morning." The lake started to ripple, breaking the image of strength. "She went to sleep that night and just—just never woke up. All those sicknesses ate her up in one night."

I tightened my jaw, trying my best to not cry but when I remembered her having her powers turned off once before and the near death because of it; I knew it wasn't some sick joke.

Before I knew it, I was wrapped in Chris' arms as I had my hands clutching his shirt. I was bawling like a baby, not just for Daisy, but because this was the first time I cried in front of someone and didn't feel like I should just be forced to 'suck it up'.

Things change.

I just wasn't there to go through it with everyone else.

Everything that had happened in the span of nine to ten months to them was being dumped on me in a matter of weeks.

Somewhere in my broken heart, I just knew there'd be more.


I moved the meat closer with my fork to the weird orange-purple sauce that the kernels of corn were swimming in.

When I felt it was close enough, I stabbed at it with the knife.

"You know, Kookie," Emma started, stopping to sip her wine and to give me a chance to look up at her, "I believe the food was dead long before they served it to you."

I was stuck at a delightful little dinner with Dad, Emma, and a handful of others at some seafood place near the bay.

There was a playful debate going around the table on whether or not the fish and clams were actually imported or not. Someone had suggested the cooks robbed a pet store.

I sighed, dropped my fork on my plate, and leaned back in my chair.

It had been almost three days since Chris bombed me with the bad news about Daisy, and my heart was still hurting.

It wasn't just her. It was everything, and I had no way of dealing with it.

Was I allowed to sulk in my room? Nope. I had to be forced to socialize with happy people.

"…and then he ended up just throwing Logan at the beer instead." They started to laugh, and I started to inspect my bangs for split ends.

Emma sat between Dad and me. I couldn't even make eye contact with Scott yet. Every time I tried, I was smacked with the fear he was going to say he was going to send me back to the—to the let's say 'bad people'.

"You're not hungry?" the big guy, uh, Piotr, (I think?) questioned as he placed his napkin on his plate.

"No, not really." I was. I mean, I should have been, but I couldn't make myself care enough to actually eat. I really hadn't eaten since Chris told me.

After I cried my eyes sore in his arms, he told me he was still on assignment but gave me his cell phone number. He had been so sweet and comforting that I had kissed him on the cheek without thinking about it.

I didn't think anything of it until I saw him go fire engine red in embarrassment.

"What about some dessert!" It wasn't a question to Hisako as she smiled with happiness at the promise of chocolaty goodness.

Bobby leaned over and whispered, "Want me to spoon feed you?"

Somehow, it just wasn't funny to be treated like a child at this time. In true me fashion, I rolled my eyes.

"Are you going to pretend that the spoon is a plane while you're at it?"

He leaned back, a confused look in his eyes for a split second before Julian said something to the group.

"We're heading to the boardwalk."

Scott waved him off, saying that the adults would go have a drink while the kids entertained themselves.

Almost half the table got up to leave with Julian, and before he followed them, Julian turned back to the table and stared at me.

"You coming or not, Summers?"

I glared at him.

"Go on, Kookie," Scott prompted, and I forgot myself for a moment and turned to look at him. My eyes met sunglasses, and I ducked my head and said I couldn't.

"Enjoy yourself," Emma said in a hushed voice as she slipped a bill into the pouch of my sweatshirt (okay, into Josh's sweatshirt).

I knew when I wasn't wanted.

With sluggish movements, I trailed behind the group of 'kids'. They were split off into two groups. Julian led one, and the other had some dark haired girl with metal on her forearms. I think they had called her Surge while she was in uniform and Nora or something like that while we were at dinner.

"So, Kookie," the silver-skinned girl started. She was the one who helped blow the whole locker room thing way out of proportion. Her name was Mercury. Wonder if they were going to have a Mars or Jupiter before long. "You really knew Bolt when he was training?"

I blinked. "Who's Bolt?"

She looked shocked and so did a few others.

"You are Blyt, aren't you?"

"I—was." Thanks for rubbing that into my gaping wounded heart.

"So you trained with Chris?" Rockslide finished.

"Uh, yeah, but who is Bolt?"

"Chris' codename, duh."

I blinked, and for the first time since I had cried my eyes out, a smile twitched on my lips.

"Yeah, I did. We were co-leaders of our team."

The talks went on, not requiring much input from me, about how great Chris was. Surge said she and Chris were close because he had similar powers to hers and really helped her when she was starting out.

"Games!" Hisako pointed out, "I am going to go over there, and I still haven't won that Scooby-Doo doll."

"Because you suck," Julian, ever positive, deduced.

"And you cheat!" Josh shot back.


Two days later, I discovered two very important things.

First, never be late for your job that started at the butt-crack of dawn.

Second, putting an ink pen in the electric pencil sharpener wasn't the smartest idea.

It was especially stupid when Emma happened to be reading something and had her back to me, leaning on the edge of the desk about two inches from the sharpener.

Evidently, getting red ink on Armani pants was a very, very bad thing.

Of course, Dad had to point out to her that she got something on her pants, and then he winced noticeably.

Guess she sent something rather loud to his mind.

She told Scott, who had innocently walked into the office at that time, to handle me, and she click-clacked out of the door.

He told me to try to get along with Emma, and I rolled my eyes.

After Emma came back in a different pair of white pants and totally ignoring me, she slammed their office door shut but not before telling me not to disturb Scott or her.

That's when the phone decided to take on a life of its own.

In the days I had been chained to the desk during the day (not technically, only figuratively-so far) I had also learned to hate the phone.

It came to life for the millionth time that day, and I glared at it, daring it to continue to ring and it did, with a bit of smugness to its tone, too.

Sighing, I cleared my throat, picked up the index card with the 'proper' way I had to answer the phone, and then I, guess what, actually answered the phone.

Another few hours and a short lunch later, I shredded the card and made sure the door to Scott and Emma's office was securely shut when I answered the phone again.

"Thank you for calling Pain 'N Stain, the masochistic love motel, your pain is our pleasure. Would you like to hear about our fire and ice special?"

Dial tone.

Guess they didn't want to hear about the special.

Then my cell phone started to vibrate. If it wasn't for the glorious invention of internet games and text messages, I would have tried to stick a fork in the electrical socket by now.

The message was from Chris. I couldn't help but give a small smile at it. As bad as it seemed, I was actually talking through text to Chris more than Bobby in the past week. Bobby was busy playing superhero-on-call and also accountant boss down in the business department of this place.


"Yes!" I screamed out before turning and launching a full frontal hug attack at Dr. Hank.

"Whoa!" He got out a second before I flung myself at him. He caught me and I clung to him, squealing like a pig.

I pulled away from him, turned back to the glowing number that had made me so happy, and bounced on my toes like a three year old expecting candy.

In a week, this was the first time I was actually able to smile.

"This wasn't a reaction I would expect from any female." Dr. Hank's smile widened as I shot my arms up and danced around in joy.

"But who else is so bony and in need of thirteen pounds!"

That's right; I was doing a Kookie-happy dance because I had gained thirteen pounds!

I was just getting a check up and my blood sucked from me by Count Hank when he said I needed to weigh myself.

I was actually 112 pounds now!

Okay, don't think it was so weird. Remember, I didn't have marrow in my bones, so that nixes a good amount of weight right there. Look at Mr. Warren! He was six feet tall and only 150 pounds! I was shorter and wingless, so I was going to weigh less.

"That's not bad for not eating!" I proudly announced and then regretted it as soon as it hit my ears.

"Beg your pardon?" Dr. Hank's eyebrows rose in concern. "Am I to understand you have not eaten yet today?"

Oops.

"Yeah," I lied. "I just haven't eaten today."

"Its three thirty; since the building hasn't been blown up, attacked, or overrun with killer chipmunks, there is no logical explanation why you have yet to partake of the delicacies offered." Blue eyes narrowed, and I felt like I should have a spotlight on me as he scrutinized me harshly with those eyes.

"I shall find out the truth with the labs I have to work up on you, Kookie. If I should find out anything abnormal, I will report it to your father."

My eyes darted around the lab, and I started to ball and unball my hands.

"O-okay!" I smiled, but on the inside, my brain was at the drawing table scribbling out lies and stories as fast as it could in preparation for what was to come.

Awkward silence followed until someone cleared their throat to gain our attention.

"Speak of the one-eyed devil!" Dr. Hank welcomed in Cyclops.

"Kookie," was the only acknowledgment he gave me. I crossed my arms and kept my eyes down.

"Is that all, Dr. Hank?" I questioned softly.

"Indeed. For now."

I shoved my feet back into my shoes and all but flew (no joke intended) out of the labs.

When I got back to the bedroom, Hisako was there, in uniform, about to leave.

"How'd it go?"

"I gained weight!"

She blinked at me as she adjusted her belt. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't be!" I chirped (again, the bird reference wasn't a joke). "I'm glad!"

"Guess I should have known; you're not wearing your second skin." She smiled, and I tipped my head to the side in a silent question. "The sweatshirt."

Like a true airhead, I glanced down and saw nothing but my black t-shirt.

I bumped the heel of my palm into my forehead, did an about face, and dragged my feet back to the labs. I was in such a rush to escape Dad that I didn't even remember my overly worn, favorite garment.

Just as I was passing the Danger Room control room, Sam popped his head out and smiled at me.

"Great timin'!"

I jumped back when he stuck his head out, so I know I looked guilty of something with the shock on my face.

"You busy?" he questioned with a slightly pained face.

"Uh, no?"

"You sure?"

"I—like to wander around the halls, just seeing if someone can put me to use." I said with a nod.

Sam smiled.

"Ah have got to go to the bathroom and grab something to eat; would you mind watching the controls?"

"Sure—who's in there?"

Sam ran around, grabbing some empty cartons and hitting a few buttons.

"Hellion and a few others."

"Hellion?"

"Yeah, Julian." He was flipping through a clipboard quickly jotting things down, so he missed the evil grin on my face.

Ding-dong!

"Sure, I'll watch over them!" My little devil on my shoulder was laughing so hard I think she rolled off my shoulder and was tearing up at my feet. "In fact, take your time."

A blonde eyebrow hiked up, but his bladder got the best of him, and he uttered a quick thanks as he went out the door.

Thankfully, they didn't change the controls too much from what I remembered of the Danger Room back in Westchester. I sat down and cracked my knuckles, and with the grace of a conductor approaching the podium, I started to key in my symphony of mayhem.

I muted the speakers so I couldn't hear what they were trying to tell me through their communication links and turned up the difficulty but left it on 'safe' mode.

I wanted revenge, not a jail sentence.


This sucked.

Life sucked.

What was worse was that life sucked and I had no one and nothing to hit.

It had been two days since my rejoicing over gaining weight and torturing Julian with the help of the Danger Room.

The only slightly amusing thing was that Summers and Frost knew I was mad but had no clue as to why.

Were they going to ask?

Nope.

I hoped not.

I didn't want to explode on them.

Well, I did, but I didn't want to feel guilty about it later.

Or be forced to hide two bodies.

Or have to apologize to either of them.

I was stuck at my 'job', driving a pen into a stack of paper, drawing stick figures, and biting back growls.

"Kookie, did you print off those articles from Texas?" Summers asked.

With a forced smile, I turned to him and answered.

"Yes, Mr. Summers." My little stick figure got stabbed in his sunglasses.

He stared at me and the death grip I had on the pen in my hand.

"Is everything okay, Kookie?" Was that concern? Dare he show concern over little insignificant me?

How cute.

"Yes, Mr. Summers."

"I'm expecting someone in a few minutes; bring the print-offs then." He shut the door to his office quietly, and I threw my pen across the room in frustration.

See, the thing was, I had been a little sneaky sneak when it came to the computer in the Control Room. I was doing stupid stuff at first, like checking to see what Emma said she weighed and if Pixie's hair color was truly pink, when my name caught my attention.

Being the ever curious one, I clicked on the file and found it to be a rather long report of my being found and my progress since then. It had several of the seniors' notes in different tabs, and I had only gotten time to read a few before fear of being caught by Sam made me close it out.

In the file, it clearly read that Frost ordered Julian to fight with me. Apparently, she wanted to test my ability, and I was rated sub-par.

I tightened my jaw, and the teeth I had left grinding into each other or straight into my gums.

I wasn't surprised about that as much as Summers had made a note that I wasn't ready for team play because I was traumatized. As of the time he wrote the report, which happened to be last week, I was considered a liability and should not be expected to recover within a decent time frame.

What did I have to be traumatized about?

Being kidnapped, locked in a cage for nine months, having to watch person after person die and be dissected, being starved, and being dehumanized by a crazy freakin' cult? Or only getting rescued by chance, having to rebuild my body from basically bones, finding out my Mother was dead, finding out one of my old teammates was dead, and then being put into a plastic bubble because they think I was so fragile I'd break?

Doesn't that happen to everyone?

My anger rose rapidly, and it wasn't until my gums started to hurt that I realized my mouth was filling with blood. Mentally kicking myself, I grabbed a handful of Kleenex and leaned over the nearby trashcan, spitting out the blood and wiping my mouth. I turned away from the door to stuff some of the tissues into my mouth to slow, if not stop, the bleeding.

"Excuse me?" My head snapped up. I knew that voice. It was one I hadn't heard in a long time.

My bloody, Kleenex filled mouth hung open as I laid eyes on the man, and his eyebrows catapulted up his hairless head.

"Kerry?"

"Pwohessow?" I turned back to the trashcan and took out the tissues, my tongue now incredibly dry. I faced him again. Something was different about him; I just wasn't sure what.

"You're alive," he pointed out, walking toward me.

That's when it smashed into my brain.

"You're walking!"

The professor stopped and gave a small smile. Will wonders never cease! I thought the man's face was chiseled from stone, and here he was smiling.

"Indeed."

Before another word could be exchanged, Scott came out of his office, laid eyes on the Prof, and said for him to come in.

I was still in a stunned mindset, so when the phone rang, I didn't answer it.

It wasn't until Emma came out, stood by my desk, and tapped the tip of her heel repeatedly that I came out of my stupor.


"…there are no accidents, just a plan…"

I didn't understand what she was saying.

The voice soothing but I was shaking from the inside out.

Coughing, blood in my mouth and tears in my eyes.

I will not cry. Dad, please save me! Save me!

Like always, I jolted up from where I had been sleeping. I was covered in a cold sweat and trembling.

Was that another dream, or was it a memory?

I was in the same lab I always saw in my nightmares, a cloaked woman looking down at me. I could only ever see her chin and blood red lips.

Smiling, she was always smiling. No, smirking. She was smirking.

"Kookie?"

I don't know who jumped higher as the voice broke through my concentration.

I jerked toward the voice, eyes flickering wildly. I was taking in my surroundings, prepared to fight, and then I saw one of the students standing there with a plate in his hand and a shocked expression on his face.

"Yeah?" This was the guy whose head is always on fire.

"Uh, are-are you planning on using the TV?" he asked.

I glanced over my shoulder to where the blank TV was positioned on the wall. It took a second for me to remember that I had been hiding from something and crashed in the main level TV room.

"Are you okay?" He put down his plate on the coffee table and tipped his head at me.

I was still shaking pretty badly, but I dug my nails into my palms in an attempt to get it under control. It worked to a point, and I quickly climbed to my feet, faked a smile, and said I was okay.

When I got out into the hall, images of the woman with red lips kept coming back into the forefront of my brain and stayed no matter what I tried to think of to get her out of there.

I knew her, but I didn't know her.

It was the weirdest thing.

Then I watched as Dr. Hank ran past me on all fours with a Twinkie in his mouth followed by a giant rock guy screaming at him to stop and return the Twinkie.

Okay, maybe it was the second weirdest thing.


"Mr. Logan?" I asked in the sweetest voice I could possibly stand to use.

He crooked an eyebrow at me, his beer bottle sitting on his lip, about to be poured down his throat.

I had a big smile on my lips and my arms behind my back, rocking from heel to toe on my feet. I was going for the 'cute, innocent little girl' image.

After he took a swig, he lowered his bottle and looked at me suspiciously.

"Yeah?"

"You know, you are the best." Yes, I was in full suck-upmode. "I mean, that's what you say all the time, right?"

"Whattaya want, kid?" He had his feet up on the railing of the back balcony/lanai thing and was leaning back in one of the chairs.

"I was just wondering, if you didn't mind and could find in you very caring and considerate heart," he snorted at that comment, "would you be willing to, I dunno, train me?"

"Cyke said yer off the roster." He took another sip.

I huffed and put my hands on my hips. It took another few seconds of thinking before I renewed my suck-up smile.

"Technically," I started, "he said I wasn't allowed to train with a team." Blue eyes shot over to me, and I had to try and keep from laughing like a moron because my logic was actually logical. "And since when do you let him tell you what you can or can't do? Would you listen to him if he told you to start attending AA meetings?"

With one last chug, he killed his drink and threw it over the side of the railing. It landed and rolled into the yard next to several others of its kind. Mr. Logan stood up and gave me a very stern look.

"He doesn't know anything about this does he?"

"Not really," I replied guiltily.

"You don't think he'd approve?"

"Not really." This wasn't looking too promising.

"So you want me to train you?"

"Yes. I would like for you to kick the crap out of me so I can learn to do the same to other people."

He gave a dark grin at that.

"Fine, Summers. Tomorrow at four, meet me out here." He walked off, and while I was rejoicing about getting what I wanted, he added, "and that's four in the morning, Summers."

Aw, crap.