X-Men Evolution and all related characters are the property of Marvel Entertainment, Stan Lee, and anybody else involved in their production. No money is being made from their use, so please don't sue me-instead find some other stupid lawsuit.
Chapter 9
"Frieda!" John cried out as he blocked the food coming his way with a force field-thankfully with all the commotion no one noticed-"Frieda calm down!" he repeated in a tone he used when his teammates were acting out of line. He began to run toward her but stepped on a piece of cake and slipped-right toward a blinded, angry Frieda who'd just grabbed a table by a leg. Enraged and blinded by the food in her face the enormous girl swung the table blindly around the room-and about to hit the sliding John
BLAST! A red beam shot across the cafeteria and shattered the table, leaving only a leg in Frieda's massive hands. Which she still swung around like a club.
Frieda! John shouted telepathically into Frieda's head. Frieda stop!
M All of a sudden Frieda did. She wiped the food away from her eyes and saw John lying down on the floor. "John?" she said, and she blushed as if now embarrassed by what she'd just done. "John, I'm-I'm so sorry."
"I know," John said, getting to his feet with a little help from his telekinesis. Most of the students were no leaving, knowing Principal Darkholme would be here soon and not wanting to stick around to catch detention.
"They-they shouldn't have made fun of me!" Frieda sat the table leg down and planted herself on the seat of another table.
"No Frieda, they shouldn't," John agreed. Frieda began to cry again, like a little baby, and John was feeling all of her emotions-her rage, her pain at rejection, and humiliation at being laughed at. He also remembered Deanna's behavior, and told himself he'd have a talk with his girlfriend. "But Frieda, acting like you just did-it's not going to fix things, will it?" He glanced back to Selena who was holding her glasses, ready to raise them for another blast. I'll handle this, John though to her. Don't you have a class to get to? Reluctantly Selena nodded, gathered up her books, and left the cafeteria.
"I'm-I'm sorry, John," Frieda repeated again as she wiped the last of the tears from her face. "It's just that—when people laugh at me-something inside explodes."
"I understand," John answered. "Sometimes-people are just-jerks."
"How did you do that-thing where you spoke inside my head?"
"Oh." John sat down next to Frieda. TO the big girl it felt really strange; she never had a guy this close to her before. "I'm a telepath; I can read minds." He held out a hand to one of the fallen chairs. "And I can do this."
John moved his hand, and the table stirred, before coming of the ground as if by an invisible force, then flying against the wall, shattering into tiny pieces."
"Whoa," said Frieda in amazement. "I'll bet that really helps you win football games!"
"No Frieda!" John sighed. "I don't use it then. That wouldn't be fair to my teammates. Or the other team." The truth was, one of the reasons John enjoyed playing football so much was that the roar of the crowds and the pace of the game made it easier for him to ignore the voices that were always present inside his head. "And I learned to control my gifts at the institute where I live at. You can too." True, Frieda's problem had more to do with her emotions than with her powers but John figured the Professor would be able to help in that area-in addition to genetic mutation Charlene Xavier was a respected authority in human psychology and psychiatry. "I'm sure the professor would love to meet you. When you're ready."
"Yeah well-I'll think about it," Frieda replied.
"Am I interrupting something?" The two teenagers looked to see Raymond Darkholme standing in the cafeteria doorway.
"Oh, a Principal Darkholme!" John Grey stood up. "I was just, er, ah-?"
"Don't you have a class to get to, Mr. Grey?" John nodded. "Then I suggest you get to it, or our football team may just have to find itself a new team captain! Understood?" Nodding, John picked up his books and walked to the cafeteria door. On reaching it he looked back and said, "We'll talk some more, okay Frieda?"
"Yeah, sure." Frieda waved back at John, blushing.
As soon as John was gone, the principal turned back to the large girl. "And that'll be detention for you after school today, Miss Dukes," he said. "In my office."
Emmett Frost counted up all the money he'd collected so far. It was amazing, he thought, how much people would pay to keep secrets secret. Most of those secrets weren't even criminal or ruinous just-embarrassing. Like the way Crystal embarrassed Dad, Emmett thought, his mood darkening.
He didn't have quite enough yet-he'd always been careful not to demand too much from his marks or he'd attract unwanted attention. He always demanded the people whose minds he'd read place their money in different spots that were within easy sight of his apartment; and he'd learned to use his mind reading ability to tell when they arrived. If they decided not to give in to black mail he didn't push them-he'd just find other marks. And a city as big as New York was full of people, people with secrets they'd want to keep secret.
It won't be too long, sis. Emmett took out from his wallet the only photo he still had with him and Crystal-Spring Break together at Fort Lauderdale smiling at the camera.
He then remembered who'd taken the picture. Velma Van Euless. A former girlfriend of Adrian's who decided she liked Crystal better. Was it Adrian who set Crystal up at New Years? Emmett wondered. It was also after that trip he'd found out his sister had been using drugs. Had Adrian somehow arranged that too? He'd never gotten along with her-or with Emmett; the oldest Frost boy always took great pleasure in hurting his siblings all the while playing the good son to their father in hopes of being named heir to the Frost family fortune.
Emmett shook his head. Adrian was a manipulative douchebag but he wasn't some supernatural being with magic powers. Then again, you can read minds and become a living diamond statue, he thought to himself.
Finally he decided it didn't matter. Soon, he'd get his sister out of the asylum and they'd be on their way to a new life in Brazil. After having disowned Emmett Winston Frost would have no choice but to name Adrian his heir-he'd certainly never put it in the hands of irresponsible Cordell! Looks like you get what you wanted, bro, Emmett thought, wherever all this is your handiwork or not.
At a hotel on the other side of Manhattan a white haired woman who looked like she might be anywhere from thirty-five to fifty-but in reality was much older-rewound the pictures she'd taking with her digital camera.
The boy was using his powers for blackmail, was he? Quite useful, yet he seemed to be lying low. Adrian Frost had told her two weeks ago that he thought his brother's powers would soon be emerging, but wasn't sure when or how-although he thought young Emmett might be a telepath like himself.
Magnetrix pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. "Hello, you have reached the office of Adrian Frost, assistant director of research at Frost Pharmaceuticals."
"Adrian," Magnetrix said, "I've found your brother." She relayed what she'd seen of his activities.
"So my little brother's reading minds for blackmail, is he?" Adrian Frost said through the phone. "I suppose that little weasel is going to try to spring Crystal from the mental institution our old man put her in; Emmett always was fond of our dyke sister." He gave Magnetrix the location then asked, "Is there anything else you need, Mistress?"
"No thanks; that will do for now." Magnetrix closed the cell phone and pondered the situation. So the boy had a strong attachment to his sister, did he? A weakness, but surely one that she could use to her advantage if need be.
Most likely the boy wouldn't try to do anything until after dark. Probably not tonight either. Magnetrix was certain the reason the boy was collecting money so he could set up a new life for himself and his sister once he'd freed her. Anyway she'd have to watch him.
A boy of four emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. "Okay mommy, I'm done showering."
Magnetrix affectionately rubbed the boy dry then helped him dress. "Are you ready to go to the play tonight, Lorne?"
"Yes mommy!" Lorne answered. Magnetrix combed her son's brown hair and looked into his green eyes. He looks so much like his brother-suddenly an image flashed in front of her, of a boy twelve years old being dragged into an enormous building by several guards shouting, "Mother! Why are you doing this to me! Why are you leaving me! Mother!" And of herself standing next to a car, doing her best to keep her face stern while a girl who looked like a smaller version of Magnetrix stared glaringly at her.
"Mommy?" Lorne asked. "Mommy, is something wrong?"
"It's-nothing." Magnetrix looked away from Lorne. I had no choice but to put Warrick away, she thought. That boy could not control his temper, and with power like he possessed he would simply be too dangerous. "It's nothing sweet-heart," she looked back at her son. "C'mon, we'll be late for the curtain call if we don't hurry."
Magnetrix walked out of the hotel room holding her son's hand. Even if she was wrong about tonight, she was certain that Emmett Frost would wait until dark to go to the asylum where they held his sister. The play where she was taking Lorne would be long over by then; in the meantime she just wanted to be a mother.
It was Wednesday night at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Which meant for said gifted youngsters it would be one more night before a three day weekend-and Kit and Katrina's date.
Kit was all nervous as he was asking John for advice. "When should I hold her hand?" he asked. "Will I seem like I'm too forward or aggressive? How will I know if she wants to kiss or be close?"
John chuckled; Kit reminded him of how nervous he'd been when he was getting ready for his first date. "Kit, calm down. You already know Katrina likes you, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to go out with you. And I think it's great you're taking her to someplace where her appearance won't get noticed that much."
"Yeah, well, I don't know-I mean you know how nervous she is about how she looks. I mean, was it a mistake to suggest she go without her holo-watch?"
"Kit, please-just relax." John placed a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Kit, if you want to hold her hand do so. She'll probably feel less nervous having you close by. And if you feel you want to kiss her, kiss her. The worst thing would be if she decides she doesn't want to go out with you anymore-you don't think she'll slap you or punch you do you?"
"No," Kit admitted. "You seem down about something."
"It's-Deanna." John sighed. "I tried to talk to her after school about how she'd insulted Frieda. And she shouted that if I liked Frieda so much, maybe I should be dating her instead."
"Oh yeah." Kit remembered the professor telling him and the others about Frieda's mutation she gleaned from Cerebro. Namely that her being fat was a by-product of how the x-gene affected her body. Awful glad it's not me, he thought. Maybe being a little guy wasn't so bad after all.
One the other side of the mansion in Selena's room, Katrina was modeling in front of the mirror in the outfit they picked together for the convention; she'd decided to go as a D&D role playing character she'd created. "I don't know," Katrina said. By the look on her face she really wanted to wear something like this but she was also scared.
"Katrina, look," Selena said, "I realize you're nervous about being in public without the image-inducer, but trust me. I've seen people at this sort of thing-many of them won't look that different than you or they'll seem even more abnormal."
"It's not just that," Katrina replied. "Vhat if-someone rubs up against me and feels my fur? Or they step on my tail?" She was holding the item in question, as she habitually did when worried or agitated.
"Katrina, you risk someone rubbing against you all the time," Selena said. "And trust me, if someone does step on your tail and you scream, they'll just think you're really into character. Sometimes I can't believe the lengths these people go to with that." She chuckled slightly. "I told you I used to go out with a guy who was into this kind of stuff. For our second date he took me to a Star Trek convention. I just wore my visor as part of my outfit as a blind Starfleet officer."
Selena picked up her makeup case and walked over to Katrina. "Okay, now hold still," she said as she applied dark red lipstick on Katrina's lips, then outlined her eyes and mascaraed her eyelashes. She then painted Katrina's nails a matching red-or at least she thought so; because of her shades Selena had to keep her makeup very well organized. Finally she piled up Katrina's hair under a stocking cap before putting a white wig in place. "Now look at you," she told the German girl. "How do you feel?"
"I feel-pretty." Katrina blushed.
"There," said Frieda as she just finished wiping up the floor for the cafeteria. After spending detention with at least three other students, Principal Darkholme had made her clean the cafeteria all by herself with only a small rag and a tiny bucket of soapy water-which she had frequently. And Mr. Darkholme inspected every inch of the cafeteria with a white glove.
"It will do," said the principal. "Now I need to talk to you-about that boy, John Grey."
"John?" Frieda blushed as she thought of him. "He's awful nice."
"Is he?" Raymond Darkholme shifted into Mysterioss. He took out a yearbook from his briefcase. "Here; I want to show you just how 'nice' he is."
The principal opened the yearbook to the chapter on the football team, and touched a picture of John. "Sophomore varsity MVP. Youngest player to make lead quarterback in the school's history." He flipped to some more pages. "Leading sophomore honor student. Most valued track and field runner." He leaned in closer to Frieda. "Do you really think a boy like him would want to be friends with someone like you?"
Frieda's face crumpled; at her old school the jocks, the popular kids, and the honor students were the cruelest to her. If John was one of them….
"And here." Mysterioss showed Frieda the pictures of last year's homecoming, prom, and all the dances in between. And every one of them showed John with Deanna Matthews. The cheerleader who'd called Frieda a 'fat tub of lard.'
Mysterioss smiled. "He's been playing with you girl. Pretending to be your friend by acting nice while laughing behind your back with that cheerleader girlfriend of his."
The hurt on Frieda's face slowly turned into red, boiling, anger. She grabbed the yearbook from Mysterioss's hand and ripped it apart like tissue paper. "I'll rip him to pieces!" she roared.
"Very well," Mysterioss said, smiling to himself at his own cleverness. If nothing else, he made sure he wouldn't lose this one to the Xavier Institute. And there was also the possibility of an added bonus of John Grey being benched for the rest of the football season, taking the Xavier Institute down a peg. "Here's what you do."
The next day at the end of class, Kit was walking out of the school with John and Tyron. It felt strange to him being friends with not just one but two jocks-one of whom actually liked science fiction and role playing almost as much as Kit himself. "You mean you can't go tonight?"
"Nope," Tyron answered. "I've got practice tonight, and then the game tomorrow. But Saturday, I'll definitely be there for the most important event of all-the costume contest! And I'm gonna win!"
"Yeah right," snorted Kit. "Katrina and I, we'll have you way beat."
A few feet away, Selena was standing with her friend Paula. "Looks like I've got to go meet Rogue at the park."
"I am so not jealous of you girlfriend," Paula retorted. "Imagine, having to do a love scene with like, the most anti-social guy in Bayville's history."
Not to mention he thinks we tried to attack him, Selena thought. "Well, I'm going to be doing my part. Who knows, maybe I crack that shell he keeps himself in."
"Yeah." Paula rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that. "With blasting caps and plastique, maybe."
"Maybe. Or with an atomic bomb." The two girls laughed as Selena waved for Kit to come over. After the smaller boy joined them, they walked over to Selena's car. "Nervous tonight, Kit?"
"Kinda," Kit admitted.
"What's going on?" Paula wanted to know.
"Kit's got his first date."
"Really?" Paula reached into the back seat, making Kit blush with embarrassment. "Who's the lucky girl?"
"Katrina."
"Oh. By the way, where is she?"
"Oh, she has her own way of getting home," Selena added, in truth Katrina had found a secluded spot and teleported back to the Institute. "She and Kit have been kind of avoiding each other, as if they might somehow spoil it."
"Aw young love," cooed Paula. "How sweet." Kit breathed a sigh of relief when Selena dropped her friend off and they headed back to the mansion.
Meanwhile at the Bayville High boy's locker room Tyron had just finished changing for practice while John staring at the ceiling. "Hey Johnny, are you gonna change or what?"
"Sorry, it's just-I'm kind of mad at Deanna right now."
"Oh yeah. She shouldn't have gotten so upset at that new girl Frieda. I mean, okay so Frieda caused her and her squad mates' uniforms to get all dirty. It was an accident; Frieda didn't do it on purpose."
"Yeah. But those things she said; calling Frieda those names-I wonder-,"
Almost as if on cue, the door to the boys locker room slammed open and in Walked Frieda. "Frieda what are you doing here?" John asked. "This is the boys' locker room."
"John-we need to talk." The tone in Frieda's voice was hard. And angry.
"Well, I've got practice. Can't it wait?" John didn't need to be a telepath to realize something had upset Frieda but he simply didn't have time right now. "Look, I promise that after practice I'll talk about whatever it is that's bothering you."
Frieda simply marched over to John and grabbed him by the arm. "I thought you were my friend."
"I am Frieda." John winced; this girl was strong! "But friends don't barge in on each other-especially not the locker room."
"I need to talk to you," Frieda simply repeated, and John could tell there was no way he could shake her off without using his powers.
"Go on," he said to Tyron. "I handle this. Tell Coach I'm going to be late." Nodding, the Asian boy went out of the locker room, perhaps a little faster than he normally would.
"Frieda, whatever this is-." Instead of answering him, Frieda simply grabbed John by both arms and pushed him out of the locker room.
As he was hauled to a nearby place where a new section was being added to the school building, John was grateful no one saw him; even though he was no male chauvinist being overpowered by a girl was embarrassing. Even by an exceptionally big and strong girl like Frieda.
Standing under a structure supporting a large quantity of bricks, Frieda glanced at the cheerleading squad at practice in the far end of the field. "That blonde girl there," Frieda said, pointing to Deanna Matthews, "the one who called me a fat tub of lard and said I was a pain to look at-is she your girlfriend?"
"Well, yes, but-." John was about to say he was angry with her for the way she had treated Frieda-but now Frieda lifted him off the ground and pulled him by the arms. "OW!"
"So it's true. And you're even worse than she is. You pretended to be nice and friendly to me!" Pinning both arms behind him, Frieda slammed John's face into the wall. With both arms pinned, the best John could do was to raise a small force field that only marginally cushioned the blow. "OW!"
Frieda laughed maniacally. "Another thing guys don't like about me besides bein' fat. I'm a whole lot stronger than ANY OF THEM!" She slammed John against the wall again; this time the impact hurt more.
And John was tired of trying to talk his way out of this. Looking up at the bricks, he thought at them-and large pile came crashing down on Frieda.
The large girl simply batted the bricks away. "That the best you've got?" she sneered.
No, this is. John looked to the poles supporting the structure. He thought, and made them bend. Just a little more-just a little. But even as he felt them bend, somewhere in the back of his head a voice told John that this might be a bad idea.
Then a ton of bricks fell on John, and just before everything went black he realized it was a bad idea.
"C'mon, Katrina." Kit was standing outside the dressing room set up for convention goers at the hotel. He was already dressed in his outfit-an ordinary medieval peasant shirt and trousers, slightly torn and ragged, with a touch of makeup to make him look battered and bruised. "I realize you're nervous, but you can't spend the whole weekend in there."
Slowly, Katrina stepped out-without her holo-watch on. She was dressed in a red and white tube top, with long skirt slit up to her thighs on both side. Her cloven feet were stuffed into a pair of knee high heeled boots and she wore fingerless ankle length gauntlets that showed her three finger hands. Her makeup and nail polish were exquisitely done and she wore a white wig braided and tied back into a high ponytail. A number of other people attending the convention-some in costume, some not-stopped and stared at Katrina.
"Katrina," said Kit in a quiet voice, "you-you're-you're beautiful."
"Yeah, I'll say," said a thirty something woman who was dressed like a Klingon. "That's incredible makeup you've got on. I'd like to know who did it for you."
"Yes," said a guy who looked about the same age made out as techno-Viking. "But what are you supposed to be, exactly?"
"Me?" Katrina looked at Kit who smiled and nodded. "I'm-I'm Deirdre B'anell," she said, naming a character she personally invented for a Dungeons and Dragons game, "half fiend daughter to drow Matron Mother Malicia B'anell of House B'anell, by an incubus from the Abyss! And this miserable human," she clasped a chain collar around Kit's neck and held a mock dagger at his throat, "is a captive to be brought to my mother's altar as an offering to Lolth! Hail to the Spider Queen!"
"HAIL TO THE SPIDER QUEEN!" a trio of girls dressed as drow clerics chanted in unison. They raised their hands along with Katrina. "HAIL TO THE SPIDER QUEEN! HAIL TO THE SPIDER QUEEN!"
When John Grey slowly came to; the first thing he realized was that he wasn't at Bayville High anymore. He was someplace dark and cramped; the only light coming from a large number of lit candles all around the room.
And he was suspended from the low ceiling by a chain around his wrists. There was even a leather bag wrapped over his hands. And he was stripped down to his waist.
"Wakey wakey sleepy head." Frieda stepped right in front of him, wearing her leotard from the truck show and really heavy makeup on her face. Standing face to face with John, she looked like a dominatrix for chubby chasers. "Figured if you were bound up like this you wouldn't be able to use that move objects with your mind trick you do." Actually Mysterioss had told Frieda that, but it worked just the same.
"Frieda, just what is this about?" John asked although he could figure the anger that was emanating from her just what she had in mind.
"What is this about?" Frieda chuckled as she raised her fist-the fingers of which were covered with heavy gold rings. "This is about every fat girl who's had to put up with being laughed at and teased. And people like you," she added as she raised back her arm, "are worse than the other kind-because you find me every bit as repulsive as they do-only they're honest about it!"
Before she finished speaking Frieda's fist slammed into John's stomach. "OOF!" John cried; none of the football players he'd been hit by felt as hard. "Don't like that?" laughed Frieda. "Well, that's just for a warm-up."
End of Chapter nine
I'd hoped to finish up the entire 'Mutant Crush' story arc, and get on to 'Speed and Spike.' But this chapter was taking too long, so I decided to end it here.
'Lorne,' is this fic's version of Lorna Dane, AKA Polaris, Magneto's daughter and the Maximoff twins' half-sister. He is only four years old here, so his powers haven't emerged and his hair hasn't turned green. And Magnetrix was pregnant with him that night when….
And Adrian, a gender bent version of Adrienne Frost, Emma's older sister who frankly no jury would convict Emma for shooting in cold blood. Which she did.
