A/N: Please read and review!


I was packing everything into the back of the blazer I would take back to school for my year in Washington, D.C. Lauren was sitting off on the grass with a very thick book open in her lap, and she was asking me the study questions. She was helping me get ready for the LSAT I would be taking later that fall. I would be able to finish my undergrad in two years because they had me take college classes my last two years in high school because they weren't really ready to handle someone like me. The teachers all called me super smart or something, but I would always say it's because there's nothing to do in Iowa but study.

But. . .whatever. . .

"My brain's shot," I told her after a while, rubbing my temples.

"You were doing fine," she tried to reassure me. "I legitly don't see why you've have any kind of problems with this test."

"First of all. . .legitly ain't a word. It's legitimately," I said, smirking at her. "And, I really need to freak out about something, or my life wouldn't be complete."

I closed the trunk of the blazer and leaned against it as I crossed my arms. Lauren studied me pretty closely, not really saying anything for awhile.

"You've been freaking out about something else entirely," she remarked. "Why?"

"Nothing," I quickly said. "Nothing I should really tell you right now."

"Why?" She asked. I think she sounded a little hurt about that. I never kept secrets from the rest of the Sisterhood. We don't do that sort of thing.

"Now's not really the time."

"You'll tell me, though. Right?"

"Duh."

"Good."

We started the longest road trip we had ever been on, and the time was broken with us loudly singing to our favorite songs or just plain yelling. The drive was non stop because we really wanted to be there as soon as we could. it was not too surprising we were both exhausted by the time we made it to ur new dorm.

"Well, Crazy Birdie. . ." She said, smirking at me. "This is going to be epic."

"Isn't it always, Icy Bitch?" I asked before we started cackling with our laughter.


Surprisingly, it didn't take me long to find a number of people who held the same beliefs that I had about Mutant Rights. It was starting to confirm what I was starting to believe. The people of my generation were much more tolerant about the strangeness of the world around us. We could all remember when Tony Stark told the whole world he was Iron Man and the Battle of New York. We were much more likely to see the powers could belong to heroes as opposed to crazy terrorists that would try to destroy the world. The people of my generation were more accepting about changes and differences, not really caring too much about it all, oddly enough.

We took what the Brotherhood had been doing for years and what The Rising Tide had started doing, and we kept the high dramatics and did our best to remove the violence of both groups.

The group became known as the Children of the Atom, and we were not limiting membership to only Mutants. Our message was pretty clear: If we wanted Mutants and any other persecuted group of people to be seen as equal, then we must show that equality in our actions.

Social media was our weapon. We tweeted about our main beliefs so much so that our group's name started to trend on Twitter. There were even more people of the same mind who started to join our little group, making it a national, bordering on international, movement.

We taped our demonstrations on the main campus lawn and pasted them on Youtube, more as proof of what could actually happen when there were people who didn't want us to be heard and who the real aggressors were. There were speeches about equality, and we spent a lot of time denouncing anything the Reverend Stryker would ever say. The world needed to hear our side of the story just as much as anything any Stryker would ever say.


It was one of the mornings I would be with the Department of Mutant Affairs, and I was busy teetering on my heels as I walked towards my boss, Dr. Hank McCoy, to shake his hand.

"You've been busy," he told me as we walked into the federal building they kind of shoved the whole department into.

I winced a little. "You've heard?"

"It was brought to my attention," Hank remarked.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"It was needed," he replied. He knew enough to understand I wouldn't tolerate any kind of violence. No matter how much it would be deserved by the other side.

"So. . ." I asked. "What are we doing?"

"there are Mutants who would be rounded up," he explained. "Hospitals or jails in the area or beyond. We would go to them and make sure they are helped."

"Makes sense."

We were met by a blond woman wearing a suit. She held a top secret government file close to her chest, and when she saw us, she walked directly toward us.

"I'm Jennifer Jereau," she told us, and she gave me an unsure look as she handed the file to Hank. "She was found very early this morning, and she refused to speak. All we know. . .she's had a very difficult life, and it might have had to with what she could do. . ."

"So. . .she's a Mutant," I told her, and she looked back at me for a moment, not really responding at all.

We stood in front of the door to some bare interrogation room. I could see a teenaged girl sitting against the wall and hugging her knees to herself. She was only staring off into the space in front of her. Hank made a small hand gesture, and I opened the door to walk into the Spartan room.

"Just because of her family connections," was the last thing I heard from an FBI agent named Derek before I went to talk to the poor girl. "doesn't mean we should just let her talk to her. She's not experience enough to help her."

The girl barely registered my presence, and I went to sit next to her, taking a moment to still be silent.

"I'm like you," I quietly told her. "A Mutant. I used to be able to control fire, but someone gave me the cure." She flickered her eyes to look at me, and she was not as tense as she was when she first saw me. "But. . .I've had it better than most people." I studied her another moment, really understanding what was happening to her and her very difficult life. It's not pretty, and I really felt for her.

"There was a day when you woke up," I was starting to say to her. "You thought you were the same as the day before, but you knew that you completely changed. A small part of you changed, making you very different, and there were people who hated you for it." Barely any reaction. Just as I thought would possibly happen. "But. . .there were people who would try to exploit that difference." She looked up at me. "They wanted to make you their perfect weapon, didn't they?"

She nodded gravely. "They lost the first two."

"I met them," I told her. "It wasn't ever going to work with them."

"No. That's what they always said," she agreed with me. "but, the main base was destroyed when the dam went out."

"You took your chance for freedom," I said, but she grimaced in pain. "Or, someone made sure you've made it out with our life."

I reached out one of my hands to her, and she took it. I gently squeezed my hand to give her any kind of reassurance.

"Let them help you," I told her. "they can help get the people who had taken you since your escape."

She pulled her hand away from me, still being ice cold. "You don't get it, do you? Their reach is everywhere. Probably even their own team."

That was enough for me to understand that there was some sort of plan in the works. There were other branches still active and ready, and their reach was becoming even longer with each passing day.

"We know of a place to hide you," I told her. "There would be other who are like and won't hate you for it, either."

"Is the Wolverine there?" She asked, almost in awe of him,

"There's a chance he'd still be there," I quietly told her. "If not, he always make a point of going there."

"What would he think?"

"He'd be one of the few people who'd understand you," I explained to her. "They ruined his life in almost the same fashion."

She trusted me with that, wanting to believe me, and she started to speak to me. I learned a lot of what I really didn't want to know, but I didn't let that show to her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

After a while, I walked out of the room and into an all-out argument.

"She has no right to make that promise," Derek was saying. "DHS will be called. . ."

"Department of Human Services. . ." I interrupted him. "She's a Mutant. They're not going to try for her because they don't care. She'll probably be in the same situation again."

"Which was why they were called," the man in charge, Aaron, explained.

"But. . .that's not right. . ." Derek said, sounding almost deflated.

"Then," I said, my voice actually full of steal. It was pretty strange. "Change the world."


Me and the girl were sitting together as we waited for Logan to appear. I was surprised he would actually show up that soon after I called him, but he would always be surprising. He walked towards us, and the girl was quickly on her feet.

"You might as well call me Logan," he told her when he was close enough to see us. "What do you go by?"

"Laura," she told him.

"At least they didn't try to take that from you," he muttered before he nodded at me as he was about to leave.

Laura grabbed one of my hands, and she squeezed it before she left.

"Thank you," she told me. "Whatever you need, I will help you. No matter what."