Sorry about the delete and update of this chapter. I revamped the whole 8 chapters, actually, so although there's nothing absolutely major redone, if you have a strong urge to reread anything reread THIS.

And once again, this all belongs to me plot-wise. NO stealy. And I'm just borrowing things from Marvel, so don't sue me or anything.


Evaline hovered in the air above her brother. She glanced down at his enraptured face and looked back at Pyro.

She couldn't understand why he kissed Cat. Aside from her taunts about her low-cut shirt and how she was pretty for an Asian girl, nothing stood out to her.

Nor did she get how Dart was okay with it. If Evaline were Dart, she'd never let Cat near Pyro.

Well, if Ah was Dart, Pyro wouldn't'a got'n away with pushing meh in the first place.

It was obvious something was up between them, because even if she had been bleeding, Pyro wouldn't've been holding her like that if it was, say, Evaline who'd been hurt.

Hell, Evaline was willing to bet that Pyro would have laughed at her.

Though he did owe her for hooking them up. It was all because of her, after all. Her and Dart.

Pyro suddenly saw her watching him and glared at her. She only smirked and turned her eyes to Magneto.

"They wish to cure us but I say to you WE are the cure!"

Evaline cheered with the rest of them.

"The cure for that infirm, imperfect condition called Homo sapiens."

Evaline looked down at Ian, at his approval, and felt a burst of pride. Her, and him, that was perfection.

"They have their weapons," Magneto said. Evaline snorted.

Some weap'ns. More lahke chahld's play.

"We have ours." Magneto glanced at the Phoenix, and Evaline hid a shudder.

That's one unstable weap'n. Powerful or not.

"We will strike with a vengeance and a fury that this world has never witnessed! And if any mutants stand in our way we will use this poison against them!" Evaline frowned.

No mut'nt deserves that, smart or dumb. Death's a better option.

"Nothing can stop us!" Magneto thrust his arms up and cheers shook the forest. Evaline punched the air and whooped with the rest of them.

We're unstoppable.

---

"Naz, you need to talk to him!"

"Mark, I can't! It isn't up to me if she stays. Callisto's already talked to him, and she's actually, you know, a leader here!"

Fish grabbed Nazeela Hena's hand. "I'd tell him by myself if he'd think I wasn't being a jackass. Look, I need you to back me up here! I can't just go up and say, 'Hey, Mags, you're harboring an atomic bomb' or something! I don't want anyone to get hurt, but if she stays here, who knows!"

Nazeela tucked her dark hair behind her ears. "I know, I know. I just... he's not some nice, considering sort of guy, Mark, I— Look, Mark, it's just... hard."

"You mean scary."

"Look, if you wanna put it that way, I'm sure you're up to it all by yourself."

"I didn't mean that. Just come on. Please?"

Nazeela looked at Fish's lame puppy-dog eyes attempt and sighed. "Fine." She tugged her hand away from his and crossed her arms, stomping after Magneto.

They walked on in silence until Nazeela's eyes popped open and she flung an arm out to stop Fish.

"A healer!" she whispered. She frowned and felt the Phoenix nearby; she used the woman's telekinesis to float above the ground, motioning Fish to stay put. She raised herself into the air, towards Magneto, the Phoenix, and the unknown healer.

She saw the Phoenix standing away from Magneto and a scruffy, muscular man whom she'd never seen before. The Phoenix looked dejected-- or was that her telepathy taking hold in Shiva's mind? -- and aloof, determinedly not looking at the scruffy healer.

The healer, Shiva discovered with her borrowed telepathy, was Logan, the Wolverine, and he wanted to bring Jean home. Jean being the Phoenix, though Nazeela couldn't really imagine the Phoenix inspiring any feelings like Logan felt for her.

That might be because I'm straight.

She didn't even try to reach into 'Jean's mind. She did rather want to live to see tomorrow, and even if Logan's image of her was angelic, Naz knew better. And from Magneto's assurances that no one was keeping the Phoenix where she was, Logan was starting to see it too.

"I came here for Jean and I'm not leaving without her!" Logan said. Nazeela held in a snort.

Don't be ridiculous.

"Yes, you are." Magneto opened his raised fist and the Wolverine suddenly flew backwards through the trees.

Nazeela quickly pulled out of his head before he hit something, afraid she'd feel the same pain he did, and then she felt the Phoenix in her mind. She quickly pushed the woman out and fell down to the ground, slow enough to keep herself from breaking anything but too fast to land on her feet.

When she looked up, Magneto was standing over her with a small smile on his face.

"Hello, my dear."

"Hi?" Nazeela bit the inside of her lip.

«She thinks I shouldn't be here.»

It was the Phoenix, inside their heads, even though Jean Grey was looking away, walking away.

Magneto looked down at Nazeela again, frowning.

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt, sir," she said. "If we get hurt, who's going to get rid of the Cure? I don't want Jean to hurt herself, hurt anyone else. She's too powerful, too out of control, too—"

"Don't worry, my dear," Magneto said. He held out a hand and Nazeela took it and stood. "Everything will resolve itself in the end. And Jean will be no harm to you or to anyone else."

"Uh, thanks." She turned her head, sensing Fish coming up behind her, and smiled.

«I wouldn't hurt you, Nazeela Hena,» the Phoenix thought to her, «no matter what.»

Nazeela smiled more broadly at Fish. "Thank you, sir," she said to Magneto. He nodded and Nazeela skipped off towards Fish.

"It's all okay, Mark," she said. "You don't need to worry anymore."

---

Everyone heard about the Wolverine coming to take the Phoenix away. He didn't succeed, of course, not with a metal skeleton.

Missy didn't ask Pyro about how he knew who Wolverine was, and Pyro didn't say. She figured if it was that important, someone would tell her eventually. She knew Pyro wouldn't; even if they were make-out buddies or whatever, she suffered no delusions.

Pyro wasn't her friend. He never would be her friend, and to be honest, she didn't much care. Missy didn't want to be his friend. He was a liar and an egotistical bastard.

Dart was better for her.

He cared, he really did. No matter how annoying he was, or what cigarettes he smoked, he cared about her.

Even if Pyro cared, Missy didn't care about him. He was just a hormonal teenager, and nothing about hormonal teenagers was worth caring about. Around him, she was a hormonal teenager, and it annoyed her when she thought about it later on.

But while she was around him, it felt fucking fabulous. Almost as fabulous as doing a back handspring without the hands, or running off of a cruise ship into the Pacific.

And she didn't like to think about how she had acted while they kissed, running her hands through his hair and down his neck while he pushed her against a tree.

Looking out the hole in the back of her tent, Missy was disgusted at herself.

She'd give anything to be able to rip her fingernails through his scalp and not give a damn when he bled to death, but fuck it all, she knew she'd hate herself for the deprivation of a frustration vent. Because no matter how much she swore and acted like a bitch, kissing Pyro was like being resurrected. Or reaching Nirvana.

Not like I know choke about Nirvana. O resurrection.

Though it had been a little like a reawakening when she'd gained her powers. She'd felt like a new person inside, though the process took a lot less than forty days.

More like ten seconds, during a tournament. Missy had been doing a routine on a balance beam, and suddenly did things she'd never done before without a single slip.

She'd gotten all 10's, but that didn't matter. She quit the team and spent her time running around in the woods, up and down palm trees and sand dunes.

And she was still running through the trees. Or slithering through them, like Pyro had said.

Missy swore again. She bunched her hands in her hair, angry at herself.

Pyro was right— him saying her name, sighing it, moaning it, got to her. She felt so alive with him holding her, trembling against her while she trembled against him.

And they hadn't even done anything. Just... kissed.

Missy rolled her eyes. She was getting ahead of herself. She'd felt the same during that balance beam routine, the first time she'd used her mutation. First times felt like this, if it was a good first time.

Winning poker, too.

And jumping off that cruise ship...

Das real Nirvana.

---

After Dart heard about the Wolverine coming to take the Phoenix away, he went to see Bravo.

"I mean, he must be from the X-men. Who else has names like we do?"

"The Omegas did, before they joined us."

"Yeah, but the Phoenix came from the X-men, remember?"

"What?"

"Yeah, she used to be with them. Didn't you know?"

Dart didn't know, and didn't want to know, either. He left Anne to the book she was borrowing from Griffin Fox and jogged to Cat's tent. He slowed a few feet away, not extremely surprised to hear her humming.

"Cat?"

The humming stopped. "What do you want?"

"You okay?"

"Whatever."

"That's not really an answer." Cat laughed as he opened her tent door and grinned at her. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

"You seem cheerful."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's a problem?"

"No, just... different. You're usually such a bitch."

"Geez, Dart." Cat sat cross-legged, barefoot, and she stretched her arms, wincing only slightly.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Not really."

"And you're sure you don't have healing powers?"

She laughed, and the sound was music to Dart's ears.

"What's so funny?"

It was Pyro, and Dart twisted around to look at him. "Your face," Dart said, sour. Cat snorted, and Dart held back another biting comment when he saw her genuine smile. "I'll just, uh... go."

Cat reached out and squeezed his hand, smiling. "Later."

He smiled back at her and scooted out of her tent. When he stood up, he looked up at Pyro briefly. Pyro nodded almost imperceptibly, and Dart humphed in reply.

I don't think we meant for them to actually get along.

Dart was feeling, strangely, lonely.

---

Pyro clambered into her tent, almost awkward. Missy backed up to make room for him, but when he sat cross-legged like her, his knees rested on top of hers. She pulled her knees up so hers were resting on his.

"Yo."

Missy raised her eyebrows. "Didn't I tell you not to 'yo' me, Fireboy?"

"Did you? Oh yeah." Pyro smirked. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"I don't believe you.

Pyro leaned closer in a conspiratory way. "Neither do I." And then he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and she smiled darkly.

"You sure you wanna do that?"

He ran his fingers down the bumps of her spine until he hit her lower back and she arched up against him; he ran his hand along to her stomach and inched upwards. She pressed her hands against his chest and pulled him closer. He smiled, and when he opened his mouth, his lips brushed hers.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

Pyro moved back, teasing, but then Missy's eyes burned and she pulled herself to him, and then a moan escaped him as her hands moved down while his moved up.

His fingers brushed against her Buddha.

Nirvana.