Hello, and welcome to my newest chapter! I'm REALLY behind on my posting, so I'm trying to give as quick updates as possible.

And of course I have to add: Merry Chirstmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever you celebrate this time of year! :)

Just to recap where we left off, Ray had to go to his old home in New Jersey, even though he REALLY didn't wanna. The reason: his sadistic older brother and his drunkenly oblivious father. However, when he arrives at his family's apartment, he finds that his little brother Tyler is overjoyed to have him back, and their dad's getting the help he needs. However, Duane recently broke out of jail and just showed up...

DISCLAIMER: The Crisps (minus Ray) and Duane's gang are all I own.

WARNING: Foul language ahead. Just because some of the characters in this say it, doesn't mean I approve of it. They ain't nice guys.

WORD COUNT: 3980


Previously:

Just then, footsteps could be heard outside the doorway, along with familiar stoned laughter. Ray tensed and stood up, moving between his little brother and the apartment door.

Tabby stood as well. "Who's that?" she asked Tyler.

Ray clenched his fists. "It's Duane," he growled, "I'd know that laugh anywhere."

The doorknob turned, and Ray gritted his teeth as his drunk older brother sauntered in.


Wednesday, March 13th, 2002

LOCATION: TRENTON, NEW JERSEY

Duane stopped in the middle of the doorway when he saw them. At first, it seemed he hadn't the faintest idea who Ray was. Then he smirked, taking a swig out of the beer can in his right hand and leaning casually on the doorframe. "Well, well, well," he slurred, "Look who's come back, boys." Duane's friends appeared as well, completely blocking the doorway. They hadn't changed that much since Ray had last seen them. One guy had a new scar on his cheek, but that was about the only difference. He'd never bothered to learn their real names; rather, they were referred to as 'Buzz' (the skinny guy who was never ever sober), 'Red' (who always wore the same red sweater with a line drawn on the sleeves for every guy he killed; so far, he was up to about four), and 'Dumbass' (who didn't have a single brain cell, but a new scar).

Red had been the original leader of the gang, and had agreed to accept Duane as one of them, but then Ray's brother had beaten him up not once, not twice, but three times, in order to take command. It was weird that a group of scumbags like them could actually have an official leader, but they did.

Their group sort of reminded Ray of a more sinister, doped-up version of the Brotherhood. Dumbass was Fred, only without the huge appetite and much less of a brain; purely the muscle of the group. Buzz was Todd, always with Dumbass, but not as funny or smart, though with a slightly better sense of hygiene. Red was Pietro, talking faster than his brain could process the words, so of course they didn't come out as smart as he thought, and again, not really the intelligence of the speedster whose mind could usually keep up with the rest of himself. And then Duane was Lance, without the calm (okay, so Lance wasn't calm, but he kept his head better than the others) or care for anyone else, and instead with sociopathic tendencies. And, of course, he was... three guesses: not as smart.

Buzz snorted as he laughed. "No way," he chortled, "Little freak's come back."

"I thought he was dead," Dumbass commented, clearly confused.

Red smacked him. "That was just a story so people would stop lookin' for him, idiot." His eyes settled on Tabby. "Whoa. Who's the bitch?"

Tabby strode right up to him and punched him in the face so hard that he fell back on the floor. "That would be you," she answered before moving back to stand protectively by Tyler's side.

The gang leader rolled his eyes. "Forget the ho. Buzz, Dumbass, check the usual places for cash. Red, git your ass off the floor."

Red got to his feet, muttering to himself. The other two gang members started digging around in drawers and between the couch cushions.

Duane glared at Ray. "I told you when I kicked you out," he growled, "There's no room in this city for freaks. Why the hell'd you come back?"


Friday, December 19th, 1997

Ray tried to pull his baby brother out of Duane's grasp, but the eldest just shoved him back. "Let him go!" he insisted, "You're hurting him!"

Duane only tightened his headlock on Tyler. "Little brat needs to learn respect," he explained, grinning, "With the way Dad is, I'm obviously the guy in charge here. The kid just hasn't learned it yet."

Ray attempted again to wrestle his older brother away from Tyler, but this time, Duane shoved him so hard, he crashed into the wall opposite them, knocking the broken lamp onto the floor. Geez, that lamp really liked the floor, didn't it?

Tyler was starting to cry. The five-year-old wasn't as used to this torment as Ray was. Ray got up and charged again, feeling a surge of energy course through him.

When his fist connected with Duane's face, something strange happened. There was a brief flash of light, and Duane jumped back, immediately releasing Tyler. Ray helped his little brother to his feet, then turned to face Duane again.

Duane slowly got up, swearing and clutching the right side of his face. When he moved his hand away, Ray was surprised to see a large red burn mark under his eye. "What the hell?" Duane growled through the pain, "What'd you do?" He ran at Ray and took a swing. The first one missed as Ray ducked, but the second one caught him off guard and in the ribs. Ray stumbled back again. Ouch... He had a feeling that at least one was broken. Duane had a really strong punch.

Speak of the devil, Duane came down on him again, and Ray put out his arms in a weak attempt to defend himself. Better him than little Tyler.

Then it happened again, only this time, Ray saw what it was. As Duane came closer, a stream of energy - like a mini lightning bolt - arced from the palm of his hand and hit Duane squarely in the chest. Duane was knocked back onto his butt, a smouldering hole having suddenly appeared in the middle of his t-shirt.

Ray gasped and looked down at his own hand, stunned at what he'd just seen. He didn't really just...

Tyler was staring at him, terrified, although Ray couldn't be sure what was scaring the little guy the most.

Duane staggered back to his feet, livid. "Get out," he ordered, "Go on, you little freak. Get out of here. I don't wanna see you in here again. Hell, if I see you anywhere in town, me and the gang'll beat the shit out of you." Ray stood, but didn't move. It was only when Duane pulled out his switchblade and pointed it in Tyler's direction that Ray complied and ran out the door.


Ray gritted his teeth. "Ty, is Ms. Cassidy home?"

"Uh-huh," came a soft response from behind him.

"Tabs, get Tyler over there, and do whatever you can to make sure he and the neighbours don't get hurt."

"Ray, what're you thinking of doing?" Tabby asked, sounding only somewhat worried.

"This is between me and him. Just keep everyone else safe."

"Got it." She took Tyler by the shoulders and steered him towards the door, stopping only when Duane and Red blocked their way. "Move if you know what's good for you," she threatened.

Red snorted. "How's a girl gonna get past me?" Clearly he'd already forgotten the blow to his face less than a minute earlier.

Tabby held up one clenched fist, opening her fingers just enough to let tiny shafts of yellow light escape. "You sure you wanna find out?"

Red did the smart thing, for once in his life, and backed off. Tabby gave him half a smirk before steering Tyler past him and out into the hall. Ray heard the sound of her knuckles on wood, and was relieved to hear Ms. Cassidy's voice, followed by a couple more footsteps and the door closing. He breathed a sigh of relief. Tyler was safe, at least for now.


Sunday, May 18th, 1998

Ray slipped into the shadows quickly as the man passed by his alley hiding place. The last thing he wanted was to be discovered. This weird electricity thing he could do... it was tough to control, and he didn't want to accidentally hurt someone, or face retaliation. The cut on his shoulder from the drunk woman with the broken beer bottle who'd taken his spare blanket was still stinging under the makeshift bandage. He didn't need another encounter like that. No, best to stay in the background and make do with what he could.

He enviously watched all the people going back and forth in the New York street in front of him. They were so lucky, he thought, to be in their own little world where they didn't have to worry about being attacked for some strange power they couldn't explain. Ray cursed these weird abilities of his. All they did was ruin his life even more. Tyler... he'd left his little brother alone with him. How could he have been so selfish? He'd rather have stayed and taken whatever Duane did to him. He just hoped Ms. Cassidy would be able to take care of the kid.

But instead, here he was, hiding out in a dark alley a whole state away. New York City had seemed like the best bet; the place was easy to get lost in, according to his Dad, so it had seemed like the perfect place to hide out. Nobody looked twice when they saw a homeless guy on the street. He was tall enough to pass as a short adult, and just had to keep his face down, so that they wouldn't realise how young he really was. Nobody bothered him unless they wanted something of his, and he didn't have much anyways. But after an incident with a couple of the local homeless community, in which he'd accidentally electrocuted a man, he'd decided it wasn't worth sticking around, and had managed to stow away on a truck that took him to a smaller city called Bayville.

A drop of moisture fell on his cheek, and he stiffened for a second, praying it wasn't rain. The last time he'd been in the rain, he'd burned himself with his own powers. Electricity and water obviously didn't mix, just like he'd learned in science class, but that was a painful reinforcement. Whenever it rained, he'd have to take shelter until it passed, and there was no discernable shelter nearby. At least, none where he'd be invisible to the passersby.

He looked up and saw that, luckily, it was just some leaky pipe above him. Quickly, he moved out of the way and settled down in a corner. He'd need some sleep if he was going to find any food tomorrow.


He turned his attention back to his elder brother. "What did you do to him while I was gone?" he asked, "How many times did you send our little brother to the hospital?"

Duane snorted. "As if you care. You left him behind. All I wanna know is, how'd you survive all these years? Who'd you get to take pity on you?"

Ray bristled. "Pity? Where I was, there's no such thing as pity. Just a desire to help those who need it. Something you would never understand."


Ray woke with a start to a loud clattering noise. Living out in these dangerous and unpredictable conditions, it was easy to wake at the slightest sound. It had to be; your life could depend on it.

It was the manhole cover only a few feet away. He stayed frozen, but tensed up, ready to jump up and get the hell out of there if needed. A hand came up from the hole and grabbed onto the edge, followed by another. A head popped out, although Ray couldn't see their face, since they were turned away from him, looking at the street to see if anyone had noticed them. After a second, the person must've judged that the coast was clear, because they pulled themselves out the rest of the way, signalling for someone to follow. As this person stepped into the light, Ray realised that they were big. Broad shoulders, thick arms, and hands big enough to grab his whole head. If he was spotted, he'd be killed in an instant.

The second person came out was much smaller, the size of a child, only with forearms and hands a lot bigger and out of proportion to the rest of their body. They had a pair of thick gloves covering them.

Then the third person came. It was definitely a woman, with shoulder-length dark hair and a tall, fit frame. Ray moved his hand just a little bit, to help push himself off the ground, when the woman spun around to face him.

She was pale, with a lean face, a thin scar going across her cheeks, and an eye patch over her right eye. Ray gasped involuntarily, startled at how she'd detected him so fast. When the other two turned and saw him, their reaction was instantaneous. The child - now that he could see her face, he could tell it was a girl - yanked one of her gloves off and held her hand out defensively. The large woman moved into a crouching pose, as if ready to attack.

The woman stuck her arm out sideways, as if blocking them from coming any closer to Ray. "He's just a kid," she said, "Only about ten years old."

Ray frowned. "I'm twelve, lady!" he spat, "Just leave me alone!" A couple sparks shot from his fingers, and he pressed himself even further against the wall.

He expected them to react in fear or disgust as his powers again decided to display themselves, but they didn't. The woman was definitely startled at first, but she seemed to get over it rather quickly, and the look on her face was almost... understanding. "Did you see that, girls?" she asked the other two, "Looks like we've found another like us."

"Like you?" Some of Ray's fear was slowly being replaced by curiosity. Could there be others like him? He glanced at each of them again.

"Yes, like us. You're not the only one with strange powers, powers that the humans don't understand."

"What are you talking about? I am a human!"

She shook her head. "Not anymore. We all were, once, but then one day each of us experienced a... change. Some more dramatic than others. We're mutants, people who have to build a new life away from society because we're different. They won't help us, so we have to help each other." She offered him her hand. "Even if you don't want to join us, you're welcome to share some of our food. The Morlocks exist to give shelter to any of our kind who needs it."

Ray hesitantly reached a bit to take her hand, but stopped. "Who are you?"

"I am Callisto, leader of the Morlocks. This is Scaleface and our youngest member, Torpid."

He took her hand. "I'm Ray."


Duane only scowled at Ray. "So you found someone to take care of you, and developed the guts to actually come back here. I guess there's only one thing to do." He cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Let's have some fun, boys! Just like old times!" Dumbass and Buzz immediately dropped what they were doing and moved so that Ray was surrounded on all sides.

Four years ago, Ray would've been scared of what was to come. Now, his fear was replaced with calm and calculation. He doubted their fighting had improved one bit, whereas he'd learned plenty of martial arts from the Morlocks and the X-Men, and if needed, his powers were pretty well under his control. He could handle himself.

Dumbass, of course, was the first to charge. Ray knew he couldn't flip him; he was far too heavy. So he stepped to the side at the last moment and tripped the big idiot. At that moment Ray actually was worried - worried that Dumbass might break through the floor, into the apartment below, and squash someone.

Buzz followed, coming at him from behind and trying to get his arms around Ray's neck. Ray just stepped aside again, this time grabbing Buzz's left arm and shoulder and spinning around so that the other man's momentum sent him flying back the way he came, straight into the wall.

He heard someone coming up behind him, and turned just in time to deflect Red's fist. "You're gonna have to do better than that," he stated dully. This was boring. He wanted to deal with Duane alone, and these guys were just interrupting him. His words seemed to incense Red even more. The skinny junkie took a few more swings at him, and Ray let him land one blow on his ribs, then feigned a cry of pain and 'stumbled' backwards. Red laughed, thinking he'd won already. His prize: a roundhouse kick to the face. He joined Dumbass and Buzz on the floor.

Ray then turned to face Duane, who seemed to at a loss for words, for once in his life. Nobody could take his boys down that fast, especially not alone. Ray smirked, for an instant glad that he could finally get back at them for all the beatings they'd given him before. His brother, on the other hand, just got even more pissed off. "You think you're tough, huh?" he snarled, "I'll show you, just like I always have." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a shiny new switchblade and flicked it open.

"Ooh, a knife, I'm so scared," Ray mocked, doing his best to sound as cocky as possible. It would drive Duane nuts, and the more pissed-off he was, the more likely he'd make a mistake. "You need a blade because you can't do anything without one?"

In their first Danger Room session, Mr. Logan had told the New Mutants that they wouldn't be getting any fancy weapons like in the comics, cartoons, and movies, like Jamie had expressly hoped. "You don't need any external weapons," he'd said, "to take care of yourself. Gotta learn that relying on a gun or a blade or a stick could get you killed." When Tabby had bravely pointed out that Mr. Logan used blades all the time - six of them - their teacher's response was fifty laps around the Room for all of them. Then he'd begun instructing them in basic self-defence, explaining that they'd soon move on to taking down armed opponents without weapons or powers at all. "Danger doesn't come just in the form of other mutants, and not always in a private area where nobody can see you. You have to learn how to do it yourselves." Privately, Ray couldn't agree more, although he'd stayed silent, not wanting the others to ask how he knew that so well. They hadn't known about his brief two years or so living in the sewers, or the months alone on the streets.


Friday, June 23rd, 2000

"Shh!" Ray hissed, "You four get any louder, and the Upworlders'll hear you!" The three young girls quickly fell silent, although Ray doubted the quiet would last long. Why did he have to get stuck babysitting the children of the group, much less all the little girls? Feral and Skids were always at each other, with the former's sister Thorn often loudly trying to separate them. Torpid, at least, was as quiet as ever. Scaleface was with them, too, but she paid the kids no attention, so it was up to Ray, or 'Berzerker', as he'd come to be known, to shut them up whenever they got too loud. It was their first scavenging mission - for Skids and the sisters, anyway - but Ray doubted they'd get anything without being caught.

It was only in the short moment of quiet that he heard it. Voices, coming up from above. Ray signalled the group to stop, and for once, they did. Without even having to communicate anything, he and Scaleface slunk towards a grate in the tunnel's ceiling and peered through it.

There were only three boys around his age there, nothing out of the ordinary. Ray was above to lead the group further on when he saw something else; one of the boys had just turned into a fuzzy blue creature with a demon tail. "I told you not to mess vith it!" he accused one of the others, poking him in the chest. He had a German accent.

The brown-haired guy held up his hands defensively. "Sorry, Kurt," he apologised, "I was just kidding around." The blond boy with them just slapped his forehead, sighing.

'Kurt' huffed. "Well, now I have to cut school today just so the Professor can fix it! Just try and come up with a good excuse to tell the teachers."

"Sure, no problem. I am the master at excuses."

Kurt glanced over at the blonde guy. "Sam, make sure Bobby doesn't come up with a really transparent one, please."

Then with a flash of light, a BAM1F noise, and a puff of smoke, Kurt vanished. Ray heard Scaleface suck in her breath, startled, at this sudden development.

Sam and Bobby, on the other hand, weren't disturbed at all by their friend's disappearance.

"C'mon, Caliban! Just tell me where they are!" Ray was getting increasingly frustrated with his fellow Morlock. He'd taken Caliban aside after returning and was begging him to find out more about those other mutants.

The bald mutant only shook his head. "I do not know their mutant codenames, therefore, I cannot find them." He gave Ray a pensive look. "Why are you so insistent on finding them? From what you have reported, they are not in need of our help."

"Yeah... well... maybe they can help us! We have enough of a hard time trying to get enough food to survive, and they sure looked like they were getting fed plenty!" Truth be told, that wasn't Ray's true reason. He was sick of hiding underground. He was an outcast among outcasts down there because unlike the others, he could pass as normal. He wanted to be back out in the daylight, with others who understood him... or rather, others that he could understand. The rest of the Morlocks had it worse than he did, and he could tell they resented him for it.

Ray didn't like being resented.

"You know what? Fine. I'll find them myself."


All that training had been worthwhile, after all, Ray decided. Duane came at him, blade first. Ray grabbed his older brother's wrist and pulled it up towards the ceiling. Rule one of fighting an armed opponent: keep their weapon away from you. Duane struggled to break free, but Ray had spent four years practicing his endurance and working out. Duane had likely spent them getting high and drunk. It was no contest.

Next, Ray lifted his leg and gave Duane a knee in the stomach. Gasping, the latter dropped the knife. With one final push, Ray shoved him back out the door. The whole exchange took less than three seconds.

The rest of the gang was getting to their feet, but none of them looked too eager to rush him again. Ray glared at them. "Beat it."

They took off, Duane remaining just for a minute to glare at Ray before turning tail like the rest of his boys.


Well, how do you like that? Just the epilogue to go and then we're done! PS: I have no clue what to do for the epilogue, so I'm open for ideas! (Hint hint). So read and review pretty please!