X-Men: New Class

by Ambaryerno

Set in the Earth-10005 Universe, a new class of students arrives at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Inspired by Agents of SHIELD, X-Men: New Class loosely adapts Kyle and Yost's New X-Men as a hypothetical live-action television series. (Note: This story only accounts for up to X-Men: Days of Future Past, and will not be updated for Apocalypse)

1. 1x01 - Genesis

A Note From The Author

I got the idea for this story after the announcement that Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., a television spinoff of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, was picked up to go to series. It got me thinking that this would be an excellent idea for the X-Film universe as well. There's a lot of characters in the Earth-10005 universe that could be interesting to see brought into the films, but who might not have the familiarity among the general public to be able to carry a film themselves. However a weekly, hour-long live-action drama would be an excellent way to introduce these characters and build up the necessary recognition.

This ambitious project is the result.

The "episodes" to follow will be a mix of original stories and others adapted from the books themselves, set within Marvel's Earth-10005 universe. For Earth-10005 I'll be focusing almost exclusively on the universe as it exists in the films themselves, and will disregard sources such as movie tie-in games. There will also be a degree of retconning of X3, because it was frankly a godawful mess. I've yet to decide exactly how these retcons will be handled yet. I'm sort of operating from the perspective that the upcoming Days of Future Past will finish the repairs caused by X3 and X-Men: Origins that were started by First Class, and will end up retconning X3 out on its own. If not, I may just ignore X3 ever happened.

The main book source for this series will be the New X-Men. The goal is to create something halfway between an action series and family drama, where not all the conflict will involve massive battles between super-powered beings (gotta think of the budget, you know). Above all, these stories will be predominantly driven by the characters and their relationships and interactions with one another.

So without further ado, I bring you the pilot episode of X-Men: New Class.

---

X-Men: New Class

1x01

Genesis

###

Act I

###

"In the beginning there was darkness, and then God breathed light into the universe. In this new light life sprung up, shaped by His hand. Greatest of all the creatures of the earth was Man, formed in His image. But Man was corruptible, and the powers of darkness twisted many into wicked abominations."

Alkali Lake, 2003…

He watched him walk away, one of the specimens cradled in his arms as if it were an actual child and not the inhuman freak of nature it actually was. As they faded from view through the trees the thing stuck its forked tongue out at him, and then the pair was gone, and all he could do was scream impotently at the man he had created, the man who owed everything he was to him. He was the most perfect instrument of death ever crafted by man, and James Logan had rejected it all, turned his back on his commanding officer, and left him chained to die as the damn holding back Alkali Lake strained from the damage inflicted by the Mutant terrorists.

Colonel William Stryker strained against his bonds. The dam failed, unleashing Alkali Lake on the surrounding woodland.

"These abominations in the eyes of God, these mutants and their terrorist allies, assaulted the very men that defend this great country, and I was left to die in an attack which threatened the lives of thousands of innocent people."

Water rushed towards him with terrible force. He couldn't see it, of course. The broken wall to which he was chained blocked the sight of the coming flood from view. However he imagined seeing the individual droplets of water foaming at the vanguard of the onrushing torrent. Trees shattered into splinters and were propelled like hundreds of spears through the air, while the largest and sturdiest were toppled whole and carried away. And then the first vanguard of the flood surged past, carrying trees, rocks, and fragments of the collapsing dam. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

The jarring impact as the main body of the wall of water struck was not what he expected. At first, the stonework to which he was chained managed to withstand the crushing force of the water slamming against it, before some piece of debris, whether an uprooted tree or a part of the dam he couldn't tell, struck a glancing blow to the corner somewhere above his left ear. Stone cracked and exploded, and the wall began to come apart. And as it did so, the chains restraining him suddenly fell free, and Stryker felt himself swept up in the water's arms, by some quirk of fate or providence the stone wall that was meant to be his headstone sheltering him from the worst of the flood.

"But my work on this earth was not done, and God himself lifted me up from the depths when the darkness bore me down. And filled my lungs with air when I thought I had drawn my last breath. And he opened my eyes, when once I was blind."

Darkness enveloped him as the water surged around him, a cold so penetrating it sucked the air from his lungs. He was tossed about by the current, and he felt something smash into his right leg. Bone shattered and fragmented, and through the agony he felt life in him again. He scrabbled and grabbed at the debris swirling around him, and he managed to catch hold of one of the mighty trees torn down by the rushing waters. His head broke the surface and he gasped a deep lungful of cold, fresh air.

Stryker clung desperately to his makeshift life raft and allowed the flood to carry him along. And as the waters which destroyed his life's work subsided, Stryker found himself lying alone on a snowy embankment, battered and bloodied, but by grace of God still alive.

###

New York City, Present Day

Stryker stood at his pulpit, his weight supported almost entirely on his left leg, and his service uniform exchanged for the robes of his ministry. He looked out across the gathered congregation: men, women and children of all races, all united in their beliefs. His was a simple church, a converted theater rather than some grand edifice of stone and stained glass, and it served his purposes.

His congregation sat in silent, rapt attention as they listened to the sermon. Many had heard it before, but he took note of some new faces in the audience.

"And though my body is now lame," he said, "Still I stand before you to reveal God's truth! Once, I believed that even mutants had a purpose in God's plan. Once, I believed that even mutants could serve their country. Once, I believed that even mutants could live in peace amongst their fellow men. But I was deceived, and God has unveiled to me the lies of the mutant apologists. Heed not the words of Xavier and his supporters, for his words are spoken into his ear by the Devil himself, and so long as mutants walk among us, all are in danger."

He slammed a fist down on the polished wood of his pulpit. "We must purge this element from our great society, as if it were a cancer sickening our nation." And again, the sound of his hand striking wood reverberated along with his words. "We must protect our families from the danger which lurks unseen." One last time his fist came down. "We must save our species from this abominations brought among man by Satan, and embrace God's will!"

The congregation broke out into wild applause as he finished, and he smiled at the reaction.

The faithful are as easily stirred as soldiers. When the time comes, they will do nicely.

Stryker raised his hands in a celebratory gesture at the chorus of "Amens" and "Hallelujahs." Then he picked up the simple cane leaning against the pulpit and made his way across the stage. His right leg throbbed in protest whenever his weight settled on it, for the bones never completely healed since the incident at Alkali Lake ended his military career.

A few members of his flock surged up the stairs leading to the stage to shake his hand or ask for a blessing, and he indulged them. God had seen fit to spare him from the disaster ten years ago, and he would oblige the faithful whenever possible. Nonetheless, he made his way resolutely to a side door, and before long was in the company of his bodyguard: hand-picked men in military-style uniforms, some of whom had served under him before his retirement from the Army.

They led him outside, and he blinked in the light of the dawn as he entered the broad alley between the side of his church and the building next door. Already the city was alive with the sounds of traffic and people beginning their mornings. It had been another long night-time rally, and at his advancing age such sessions were beginning to take their toll. He mused at the irony that even had he not been discharged, he might still have been obliged to retire from his military service by now as age caught up with him.

The guards escorted him along the alley to where his driver waited on the street with his car. One of the guards hurried to open the rear passenger's-side door as he reached it and eased him onto the bench, while another took a seat in the front passenger's seat. Stryker was belted securely into place, and the driver was just preparing to get under way when he heard the commotion of several figures approaching being intercepted by the rest of his security. One was a well-dressed woman in a jacket and skirt, and he rolled his eyes in recognition of Melita Garner. Her dark brown hair was neatly styled, and the warm olive tone of her skin betrayed her mixed heritage and lent an exotic beauty to her forty year-old features. She carried a microphone and was accompanied by a cameraman and several technicians.

"Reverend Stryker!" she called as she caught sight of him through the bodyguards clustered around his car. "Reverend Stryker!"

Stryker made an exasperated sign to his guards and allowed Garner through. She hurried over to his car, and her cameraman and technicians quickly began filming before Stryker could even consider issuing the order to have them removed.

"Yes, my child," he said, inserting a hint of his annoyance with the woman's persistence into his voice. "What can I do for you? Did you enjoy the rally last night?"

She ignored his question, and immediately slipped into the role of the investigator that had come to irritate him since the incident at Alkali Lake. "Good morning, Reverend," she said, her voice colored by a slight accent, a peculiar overlapping of typical Mexican and African-American phonology. "Melita Garner, Fox News. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about some of your recent statements on human/mutant relations?"

Stryker scowled at her as she confirmed his suspicions as to the purpose of her appearance at his church. "I believe my office has made my position clear. If you haven't received my official announcement I'll have a copy sent…"

"We are all aware of your prepared statements, Reverend, however viewers would prefer to hear an unscripted response to your charges that Charles Xavier has been assembling a mutant army in his School for the Gifted. Frankly, many find these claims ridiculous."

And there it was. In that moment he decided the woman's persistence was a nuisance he was finished enduring.

"I stand by my statements, Ms. Garner…"

Her eyes widened in a carefully-measured show of incredulity. "So you honestly expect people to believe that a philanthropist like Xavier, who donated land that has been in his family for generations to establish his school, is raising an army of children as part of some vast mutant conspiracy?"

"Ms. Garner," he said, his expression serious. "The threat to our way of life presented by Xavier and his so-called school is very real. He harbors aberrations against God, some of whom possess destructive capabilities far beyond the entire nuclear arsenal of the United States."

"According to what source, if I may ask? Your contacts within the US military which are so classified you've refused multiple Freedom of Information requests to identify them, and whom the government itself claims do not exist? A disgruntled janitor at the school? Or does it come from what you've professed as visions from God?"

Stryker scowled at her. The aftermath of the Alkali Lake incident still chafed at him even a decade later. Of course the government was well-aware that Xavier's private school housed the abominations, and he had seen to it personally that they were well-briefed of the potential threat. However had word leaked that his project involved children — even mutant children — the fallout would have caused mass outrage among the public. So he was quietly swept aside, granted an honorable "medical discharge," and the truth of the incident covered up.

Of course, he could tell her nothing of this.

"Ms. Garner, I warn you that I will not have God or my faith mocked for the entertainment of your audiences," he said instead. "Now if you will excuse me…"

Stryker made a motion, and one of his guards interposed himself between him and Garner so the car door could be closed, finally allowing him to depart.

As the car sped away from the frustrated reporter, Stryker signed for the attention of the man in the front passenger's seat, a nondescript, brown-haired man of average height.

"Taylor, Ms. Garner's repeated harassment in support of the abominations is becoming something of an annoyance. Please see to it that she stops troubling me. With discretion, of course."

Taylor nodded obediently. "Yes, Reverend."

###

Melita watched as Stryker's car sped away, frustrated by his evasiveness to her questions. Nonetheless, she quickly masked her irritation at yet another failure to obtain an unrehearsed interview, and turned to the camera.

"As you can see," she said, "Attempts by the press to have the Reverend Stryker identify the sources in support of his accusations continue to meet with resistance. Meanwhile, he presses his verbal attacks against the children and faculty of the Xavier School for the Gifted, despite our own investigations and interviews with both faculty and students which have thus far turned up nothing to support Reverend Stryker's claims. This has been Melita Garner, Fox News."

###

Act II

###

The school's lounge was spacious, and as Julian relaxed with an arm around Sofia Mantega it was largely empty, with only a handful of other students present. They sat on one of the couches in a conversation circle facing a large-screen television in the middle of the room. A few arcade machines and a pool table stood in one corner, and computers and a study area, where the rest of the students present could be found, was tucked away in another. Windows on the West and North walls looked out onto the grounds. Two doors to the South lead to the formal dining room beyond, while another to the East opened out into the formal sitting room.

Sofia, her brown hair pulled back neatly and fashionably-dressed despite the early hour, largely ignored him, with her attention focused on the television. Julian, dressed in Abercrombie and with his own black hair carefully styled, scowled irritably at the image of Melita Garner as she approached the church of William Stryker.

"…outside the church headed by the Reverend William Stryker, where our cameras have once again been denied entrance," the reporter was saying. "Since his medical discharge from the United States Army following the Alkali Lake flood ten years ago, Reverend Stryker has become a curious mixture of recluse and local celebrity due to his outspoken verbal attacks against the mutant population, while refusing to respond to the press in open discourse. He has nonetheless amassed a substantial following that meets here weekly, and also attends the rallies staged in protest of attempts to confirm equal protection under the US Constitution for the nation's mutant citizens.

"Thus far, attempts to secure an interview with Reverend Stryker through his office have been stymied with referrals to his numerous prepared statements and manifestos. However if we are lucky, we will be able to catch him as he leaves from his latest rally."

They watched as Stryker emerged from the alley running along the side of his church surrounded by guards and headed for his car. Garner immediately broke into a pursuit, with the image shot by her cameraman swaying nauseatingly as he struggled to keep up with the woman.

"Isn't there anything better to watch?" he asked. "Cartoons? Talk shows? Hell, I'll even take the Kardashians than listening to any more of him."

"Shush," she said, her English colored by her thick Venezuelan accent. She elbowed him gently in the gut in a vain attempt to silence him. "I have a paper due next week on Stryker and his manifests. Garner's been trying to get a live interview with him for months, and I'd like to be able to use it."

"You know he's just going to have those goons break her cameras again."

His apathy and boredom getting the better of him, Julian flexed a hand, and a green aura formed around it. He pointed at the television, and Sofia promptly grabbed his hand when she realized what he was intending.

"Don't even think about it," she said.

He gave her a hurt look. "What?"

"No fair using telekinesis to change the channel on me. I took the remote away so I could actually watch this."

"Oh come on. Look, he's already brushed her off."

Sure enough, they watched as Stryker forcibly ended Garner's attempt to interview him when his guards slammed his car door shut. The reporter could only watch helplessly as he drove off, before turning back to the camera to deliver her closing.

Sofia threw up her hands in disgust.

"So you were right," she said. "It doesn't make you less of an ass."

He smirked and kissed her on the top of her head. "I love you, too, baby."

She rolled her brown eyes in exasperation, but a small smile managed to sneak onto her lips. "Oh just let me get to work in peace. Don't you have a class this morning, anyway?"

"Yeah, yeah. Computer Science, real tough."

"Yes I know it is, I saw your last report card."

Julian made a face at her, then kissed her on the cheek.

"Whatever," he said. "See you after?"

"See you after."

###

Julian slouched in his chair and leaned his head back, not even bothering to hide his boredom as he listened to Kitty Pryde give her lecture. She rushed through the lesson with the ease of a savant while the rest of the class struggled to keep up, and Julian himself had long ago abandoned trying to follow her, so most of his time was spent sneaking peaks of her butt whenever she turned away from her students to face the board. He suspected that aside from a couple of nerds, Kitty, the youngest teacher on staff at the school and in a close fight with Anna Marie (whom no one was ever able to learn her last name) for the prettiest, was the only reason any of the boys actually enrolled in her class.

Santo Vaccaro, his massive, rocky body barely contained by his chair and desk, sat beside him in the middle of the classroom. He leaned his head on one blocky fist, similarly trying not to fall asleep.

The tedium was interrupted by a knock on the door that managed to snap Santo back to full alertness, though Julian continued his survey of the ceiling tiles.

"Come in," Kitty said as she paused in the midst of her lesson.

The door swung open, and one of the most school's most recognizable figures.

"Logan!" Kitty said in surprise, and rushed across the room to gather the Wolverine in a friendly hug. The open warmth as he returned her embrace would have seemed entirely out of place a dozen years earlier, but though Julian had heard the stories, neither he nor his classmates had even been in kindergarten during those days.

"Whoah, hey, check out the new girl," Santo said, nearly knocking Julian out of his chair as one stony fist reached across the space between them to get his attention.

"Huh, what?" Julian managed as the effort to stay righted snapped his attention away from contemplating the ceiling, and realized for the first time that Logan had not entered alone.

The first thing he noticed was she was rather small: The girl, about their age and rather pretty, would be lucky to clear five feet and possessed the lithe figure of a gymnast. She wore her black hair long past her shoulders and was very fair-skinned. The biker jacket she wore, which Julian recognized once belonged to Logan, was comically oversized on her small frame, and beneath that she wore a blood-colored corset. Her outfit was completed by a black leather miniskirt, fishnets and flat-soled, calf-high boots, and a gold locket on a choker around her neck.

"Wow, what kind of freak do you think she is," Julian muttered.

The girl held a binder and a few books in front of her protectively, and realizing she was the center of attention for the rest of the class while Kitty and Logan spoke quietly shrunk as far as she could into Logan's jacket. Her expression was blank as she swept her green eyes across the classroom.

Santo shrugged. "I don't know, but she's kinda hot. Y'know, if you like the whole creepy Goth thing."

"Yeah, and creepy is right. I wonder where the Wolverine turned her up?"

After a few moments Logan finished his conversation with Kitty. Ignoring the rest of the class, he touched his companion on the shoulder and muttered a quiet word in her ear before departing again. By now the rest of the students were having their own conversations about the newcomer as well, which were interrupted as Kitty cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Class, we have a new student joining us today," she said. "This is Laura. Laura, would you like to tell us a little about yourself before we continue the lesson?"

"No," Laura said. Her voice was barely loud enough to register where Julian sat.

"Are you sure?"

Laura nodded slightly, and withdrew into Logan's spacious jacket.

Julian smirked at her. "Come on, Laura, share with the class," he said, prompting a snicker from the other students.

"Julian," Kitty said, giving him a warning glare.

"What? It's not time for show and tell?" The rest of the class laughed again.

"If she doesn't want to waste our class time entertaining you, Mr. Keller, that's her choice."

"I just want to know what she can do."

Laura leveled her eyes on Julian, and there was something hard behind them that made the finer hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"No, you do not," she said. The class gave a howl of amusement at the veiled threat in her voice, and Kitty interceded before the situation could escalate further.

"Alright, enough, everyone," she said. "Laura, please find a seat. Julian, eyes front and mouth shut or we will have a talk after class."

Once again the students snickered. Julian gave Laura a smug grin as she made her way to an empty seat in the back corner of the classroom. With the disruption settled, Kitty jumped right back into the middle of her lecture, and Julian was soon back to counting the ceiling tiles.

###

Logan made his way along the hallway from Kitty's classroom, threading past a number of students, exchanging greetings with those he was acquainted with, and causing a quite a stir among those who had never met him but clearly recognized the Wolverine. Memories from the previous decade clawed their way up from the confused jumble of his past as he passed the sitting room and turned towards the library.

Some of the gaps in his memory had been filled in with the help of Professor Xavier, and there were a few things that were still murky but somewhat clearer now than when he first came to the school, but many things remained lost. Logan conceded that his experiences here had made him okay with that.

He entered the library, hands tucked in his jeans pockets, an unfamiliar resting place for them, accustomed as they were to the pockets of his jacket. But Laura had appropriated it for her own after he found her, and seeing that she drew some measure of comfort from it he couldn't bring himself to take it back, so this would have to do until he replaced it.

Students studied or conversed quietly at the tables, or browsed the bookshelves running in neat rows along the walls. Windows let in light from outside, and as the air cooled as fall pressed on were opened to let a fresh breeze through. The muted background sounds of the library made even the slightest change in volume almost deafening to his enhanced hearing, and the mustiness of row upon row of old books, unnoticeable by most of the children, was especially prominent to his nose. He passed through a cloud of perfume where a girl — Noriko Ashida, if he recalled the scent — had been standing. It was just enough to get the attention of most members of the student body, but for Logan's senses it was almost overwhelming.

Yes, it was Nori. He could hear her giggling from the Northeast corner, and the trail of perfume led in that direction.

He continued on his way, and soon reached the door to Charles Xavier's office along the South wall of the library. He was about to knock when a familiar voice interrupted him. Not that Logan was surprised. He had already heard — and smelled — his approach.

"So how's my old bike treating you?" Scott asked.

Logan smirked and turned around to see Scott Summers leaning against the wall, gazing at him through his ruby-quartz glasses and with that expression Logan couldn't decide if it was meant to be a smug grin or a commanding glower on his face.

"Running better than ever, Slim," Logan said. "You should take her out for a spin sometime."

"Dick."

"Boy Scout."

The two shared an amused grin over the greeting before Scott continued. "So what brings you back by the school?"

"Brought someone in this morning that could use some help," Logan said. "Xavier's waiting to talk about her now."

"I heard. And if she has your endorsement it has me worried for all of us."

"Hey, everything worked out fine with Marie, didn't it?"

The other snorted a laugh. "Sure, if blowing up the Statue of Liberty's torch counts as 'fine.' It's not that I'll throw the girl back out on the streets, but from what Xavier and I discussed I still don't like it."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't. Look, you got a problem take it up with the Professor. Just lay off the kid, will you? She's had it hard enough to have to deal with the stick you've got jammed up your…"

Logan trailed off as one of the younger students looked up, having heard his voice rise in irritation.

"Just lay off her," he finished instead.

Scott managed a smile and shook his head. "So I guess your visit is going to be just like old times, then?"

"'Course, and I'll be lovin' every minute of it. Anyway, the Professor's expectin' me. Don't you got some hall-monitoring to do?"

Scott shook his head again and chuckled as he walked away, leaving Logan alone and smirking at Xavier's office door. Almost before he knocked he heard the Professor's voice from within.

"Come in, Logan!"

"You'd think I'd be used to that by now," he muttered, then opened the door to Xavier's office and stepped inside.

As Logan entered the office he found that it had changed little over the years. Some of the furniture had been replaced, Xavier's office computer had been upgraded, and there were some new books on the shelves and other odds and ends, but otherwise it was the same functionally inviting space he remembered from when he first found his way there. Its walls were lined with bookshelves, and it was dominated by a large wooden desk. There was also a small conversation circle tucked away in the near corner. Professor Charles Xavier, who seemed to have hardly aged at all since they first met more than a decade ago, sat in his wheelchair behind his desk finishing some form of paperwork, but as soon as Logan entered was already moving to meet him.

"Logan, it's good to see you again," he said, smiling warmly. "Welcome, and please, have a seat!" Xavier motioned to the conversation circle, and Logan took a seat in one of the chairs. "I assume your search was successful?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah. The kid was skulking around and ran off when she realized I caught her scent. Didn't take much to find her after that, though. She followed me out and came right to me. She'd been looking for me."

"I see. Did you have any difficulties bringing her in?"

Logan considered for a moment exactly how much to tell him about the encounter. Xavier was certainly trustworthy, and he had already shared a great deal of what he had learned about Laura's background with him. "Well, it wasn't easy," he said, "But I convinced her." From the look on Xavier's face Logan suspected the man had sensed there was more to it than Logan outright said, but he could see the Professor's respect for his and Laura's privacy, and he did not press for more. "I got her sittin' in with Kitty's class for now to keep her occupied. Figure most of that class is her age, which will do her some good. Sooraya'll meet up with her when they let out and show her around. I'll talk to her tonight and help her figure out a class schedule then."

Xavier nodded. "Yes, Sooraya is a good choice, I think. I do wish to discuss this before any final decisions are made, however. I've read the copy you gave me of her mother's letter, and I must admit I am not without my concerns."

Logan sighed. "Seem to be getting' that from all angles so far. I heard Cyclops already had a word with you."

Xavier nodded and steepled his hands together. "I did have a discussion with Scott about Laura while you were out looking for her, yes," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Please do not misunderstand me, Logan. I do agree that we needed to bring her here, for her own safety as much as those around her, and I would never turn anyone away from this school who has come to us for help. I am merely concerned whether this is the right choice for her."

Logan sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead as fragmented memories danced at the edge of clarity. He still couldn't remember the procedure that bonded the adamantium with his skeleton, but knew calling it unpleasant would be a massive understatement. "The kid's had it rough, Professor. Ain't nobody that knows better what she's been through than me. Ain't nobody that should ever have to know what she's been through either, especially a kid. The things that were done to her…"

Xavier sighed in sympathy. "I know, Logan," he said. "And I cannot tell you how much I empathize with the poor girl."

"The point is that I was in her place once, too. I may not have been a student here, and I sure as hell ain't the model X-Man. The Boy Scout out there sure ain't letting me forget it. But being here helped me put the pieces back together. I still don't remember everything I lost, but at least you helped me make peace with that and what memories I do have." A chill worked its way down his spine. "Laura remembers everything, and I can't imagine how much worse that's made things for her. If there was anywhere that could help her find peace of her own, it's gonna be here with you."

"You know that I will do everything within my power, and everything within the capabilities of this school, to help her. But you must also understand that the emotional damage Laura has sustained is severe."

"I know, Professor. I saw nice, up close and personal just how bad it was, and it wasn't pretty."

He left unsaid just how fine of a line he had walked when the girl had caught up with him.

"She's been doing a fair job of hiding it," he continued, "But I know all too well what she's feeling don't just go away.

"In a twisted way I'm responsible for everything that's happened to her, so I gotta at least try to make it right with her."

Xavier considered that for a moment, before responding.

"It may reach the point where she needs aid beyond what we can provide," the Professor said. "I would at the very least recommend professional counseling, which we aren't really equipped for."

Logan scowled at the suggestion. "Ain't sure she'd go for more poking and prodding. I was hoping all she might need is a chance to have a normal life for a change."

Xavier gives an ironic smile.

"A normal life. I wonder what the chances are for anyone at this school actually managing to have a normal life."

Even Logan found the dark humor in that.

"Yeah, seems the track record for that here kind of sucks, don't it?" he said. "Anyway, I'll be stayin' on a couple days to make sure she gets settled in ok. She's trusting me, at least, which I suppose counts for something, though I imagine there's plenty of better choices for her to latch onto."

"I'm not so sure there's anyone here better qualified to help her with what she is going through," Xavier said.

###

Kitty's lecture finally came to a close not a moment too soon, and Julian hurried out of the classroom in relief with Santo close behind him. He took up a spot leaning against the wall outside, watching the rest of their classmates file out while he waited for Sofia. A moment later she rounded the corner of the hall leading to the library and headed their direction, and he greeted her with a light kiss when she arrived.

"How was class?" she asked.

Julian shrugged. "Same as usual."

Santo grunted in amusement. "Which means he slept through most of it," he said.

Sofia folded her arms across her chest and smirked. "Working hard on failing, then?"

"I'm still not sure why I even signed up for this class," Julian said.

"Ms. Pryde," Santo said, making a show of coughing into his hand as he spoke.

Julian gave him an irritated sock to the shoulder, and instantly regretted it. He yelped and shook it out as the pain of punching solid rock lanced up his arm. Sofia gave him a satisfied smirk as he rubbed his wounded hand.

"That serves you right," she said. Julian made a face back at her.

The rest of the students filed out of the classroom, and Laura emerged last. She shrunk into Logan's jacket as she brushed past them, holding her books against herself protectively as she headed up the hall, looking about as if she were seeking someone.

"Who is that?" Sofia asked. "I've never seen her around here before."

"Some new girl the Wolverine dropped off in class today," Julian said, and shivered. "She gives me the chills, and I don't just mean because she was a total ice queen in class. There's something really spooky about her."

Julian flashed Sofia a smirk. "Hey, check this out."

The green aura formed around Julian's hand as he gathered his power, and he made a finger gun.

Sofia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Julian, please don't," she said.

Julian ignored her and pointed his finger at Laura. "Pew!"

He released the burst of gathered telekinetic energy, which struck Laura's books and sent them flying out of her hands. She stumbled in surprise at the impact, and her things scattered across the floor. Several of the other students around her laughed and clapped in amusement, and Santo cheerfully slapped Julian on the shoulder. The blow staggered him, and it was a good several minutes before it stopped throbbing.

"Good shooting, Tex!" Santo said.

Sofia scowled at him. "Why do you have to be an ass?"

Julian raised his hands in protest at the accusatory look on her face. "What?"

"Because," a new voice interjected, lightly colored by an Farsi accent, "if it looks like one and brays like one, it must be one. And one must act within its nature."

Julian rolled his eyes at that as Sooraya Qadir, the hem of her black abaya brushing the floor around her, glided up the hall and glared at Julian. Though the rest of her face was hidden behind the niqab which masked her expression, the irritation in her dark eyes was still enough to make Julian recoil.

Sooraya shook her head. "I have never understood the amusement bullies find in tormenting others," she added, "Especially when they are here to escape torment for being different themselves."

Julian gave her an exasperated look. "Sorry, 'mother'," he said, earning a smack up the back of the head from Sofia. Santo stifled a laugh, at which Julian gave him a glare of his own.

"Don't be such a jerk," Sofia said, fixing him with her most annoyed expression.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked as Sooraya stopped, folding her arms across her chest. Her abaya billowed loosely around her like a cloud and obscured her shape, though one could still see she was of average height and build. Julian idly thought about how despite having known her for some time, he had still never seen her face. Nori and the other girls had mentioned she was rather pretty, but it was still rather alien to think of her as a friend and not be able to see her. "I thought you didn't have classes today and were headed into town with Cessily."

"Logan is in a meeting with Professor Xavier and asked for me to take Laura in hand," she said. "It seems I did not arrive soon enough."

He rolled his eyes at her again. "So who is she, anyway?" He glanced over his shoulder at the girl, on her knees now and trying to gather up her things. His hand began to glow again, and he smirked as with a casual flick he sent one of Laura's books skidding across the floor out of reach just as she tried to pick it up. Sofia grabbed him by the wrist and glared at him.

"Julian, that's enough!" she snapped.

"I don't know," Sooraya said in answer, "Other than that she is an acquaintance of Logan's. For which I must admire your courage in harassing her. Now if you will excuse me, someone must at least try to be her friend."

###

Sooraya pushed past the group and made her way down the hall, taking a small amount of satisfaction in the dressing down Sofia was delivering to Julian as she departed. She did not speak Spanish herself, but from the context of some of Sofia's invective when her English failed her it sounded like her choice of words would be quite inappropriate in polite conversation. She was unsure if she should pity Santo for having to stand by and watch the spat, or if he found some sort of entertainment in it and was enjoying the spectacle that typically resulted from Julian and Sofia's quarrels.

Laura paused in the midst of gathering up her scattered belongings and looked over her shoulder as she approached, having already detected her presence despite her distraction. Sooraya lowered herself to the ground and began helping corral the last few wayward papers and books. The first she picked up was a children's book, Pinocchio, which Laura snatched almost protectively from her hands.

"Good day," she said, taking the girl's unusually defensive reaction to her handling the book in stride. "It is Laura, right?"

"Yes," she said. Her voice was quiet as she cradled the book against herself, before almost reverently stacking it with the others she had set beside her.

"I'm sorry for this, there are some among the student body who think they are still children. My name is Sooraya Qadir, and Logan asked for me to show you around the school while he is meeting with Professor Xavier. He said you would be expecting me."

Laura hesitated a moment and nodded, and Sooraya could not help but feel as if in that brief pause the girl had been looking clear through her. The girl's next words shocked her.

"You are Sunni Muslim," she said, in flawless Farsi.

For a moment Sooraya could only stare dumbfounded at the girl's grasp of her own native tongue, spoken without even a trace of an accent. That she had also discerned the specifics of her faith at a glance within that brief moment was even more surprising.

"Yes, I am. And you speak Farsi quite well."

"I have...visited Afghanistan."

Laura's expression turned distant as she trailed off, and she hurried to gather up the last of her things. Sooraya helped her retrieve the last few papers, which she tucked neatly into her binder.

"Really?" Sooraya said, "I was born there. And where are you from?"

"Nowhere," Laura said, abruptly shifting back into English with striking ease. She said nothing more for some moments, and realizing she would not clarify any further, Sooraya helped her back to her feet.

"It is almost time for lunch, are you hungry?" she asked instead.

Laura nodded.

"Come then, we shall start the tour there."

Sooraya lead Laura through the sitting room and into the lounge. Any questions she had were answered as briefly as they could be, with shrugs, nods or a subtle shake of the head whenever possible, and in only one or two words when the girl needed to speak. Her green eyes were constantly roving her surroundings, and Sooraya could not help but feel that every room she entered, Laura was aware of everything happening around her.

There were a few students not in class relaxing in the lounge as they entered. Some were gathered around the television, while others were scattered among conversation circles or working on the computers. Sooraya caught sight of who she was looking for and, as if expecting her, the other girl detached herself from the group she was conversing with and hurried across the lounge to meet them. Her liquid metal skin reflected the lights of the lounge, and she wore her red hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her dress was unremarkable, just a simple pair of jeans and a pink tank top. Cessily Kincaid stuffed her hands into her pockets as she approached the two, and gave Sooraya and Laura a look of mixed amusement and impatience.

"Hey, I've been waiting for you," Cessily said. "I thought we were heading into Salem today."

Sooraya inclined her head apologetically. "I'm sorry I am late, but Logan asked me to help out at the last minute with our new guest today. Cessily, this is Laura. Laura, I would like you to meet my friend, Cessily Kincaid."

"Hi, pleased to meet you!" she said, her voice cheerful. Cessily extended a hand in greeting, and Laura regarded it uncertainly for a moment before taking it. "Welcome to the Xavier School. So, where are you from?"

Laura withdrew back into her jacket again and shied away from the question. Cessily gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Don't like talking about it, huh? It's ok, there's more than a few who feel the same way. Quite a few of us don't exactly 'fit in' outside, you know…" She tapped her metallic skin to emphasize the point. "…but that's why we're here. I'm sure you'll feel at home soon enough."

"Laura and I were about to get something to eat, would you care to join us?" Sooraya asked.

"Sure, seeing as I was waiting for you anyway. It will give us a chance to tell Laura all our friends' embarrassing stories before they have a chance to defend themselves."

Cessily smiled mischievously and Sooraya chuckled at that, and the three started across the lounge towards the dining hall and the attached kitchen.

"Well, best we do not start with Julian or we will be here all day," Sooraya said. "Speaking of which, you might have a word with your 'brother.'"

"Let me guess, they've already met?" Cessily glanced at Laura, who looked back at her warily. "Oh, we're not actually related, by the way, just good friends. Good thing for him, too, because there's times I'd love to deck him. I don't know how he can be such a good friend on one hand, and then turn into an absolute prick the next. Nori can be just as bad when you don't let her have her way. Anyway, how long have you known Logan?"

"Three days," Laura said quietly. Sooraya glanced at the girl, whose posture remained guarded and wary.

"Oh? How did you meet?"

"I found him."

The three walked in silence for several moments, during which time Cessily realized Laura did not intend to elaborate further. They entered the formal dining hall, an opulently furnished room with a long table lined with chairs running down the middle, hardwood floors, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling overhead. The hall was empty, however, and they made their way for the kitchen.

This was modestly-sized but fully-equipped, with a small and much more casual dining area tucked away in one corner. There was ample counter space, a microwave, a professional-sized oven, an industrial refrigerator and dishwasher, and pantries and cabinets lined most of the walls. There was even a walk-in freezer. The kitchen, too, was empty of other students as they entered, with those not in class preferring to take their midday meal in the lounge.

"Breakfast and lunch are casual here," Sooraya said, "except for special occasions like holidays and such. Dinner is served after classes in the dining hall. Sometimes we make a shuttle trip into Salem Center, especially on days we don't have afternoon classes. The pantries are kept stocked by the staff and you may help yourself, and you are also welcome to keep food of your own as well."

"Make sure you label it if you don't want anyone else to help themselves, though," Cessily added. "We don't usually have problems with that since it's such a small community here, but it happens. Do you have any special diet needs?"

Laura shook her head.

"Ok, just wanted to be sure," Cessily continued. "I know there's a few kids whose mutation requires special diets, Sooraya follows halal, and there's one or two Jewish students as well, oh, and Miss Pryde stays kosher, too. I don't need to eat at all, but in a way it's kind of comforting to do it anyway and helps me feel, y'know, normal. Is there anything particular you like?"

Laura shrugged noncommittally. "No, unless there is something spicy."

Cessily thought for a moment and turned to Sooraya. "Are there any leftovers from that Indian place we tried the other day? I wasn't really crazy about it, but it wasn't too bad and some of it had a real kick."

"I think so," she replied, stepping over to check the refrigerator. "It looks like there's some of the Chingudi Jhola left."

Cessily nodded. "Yeah, that was Josh's but he said I could have it since it didn't agree with him. If you like spicy, Laura, you'll love this. Hey, while you're in there can you grab me the other half of that sandwich I had yesterday?"

Sooraya handed a takeout bowl and half a submarine sandwich wrapped in brown paper to Cessily, then disappeared back into the refrigerator in search of her own lunch.

"Thanks," Cessily said. "We can eat out in the lounge or in here if you like. We usually don't use the dining hall except for the evening meal."

Laura withdrew into her jacket again and hugged herself. "I prefer it in here."

"Ok. Yeah, this place can be a lot to take in all at once, even though there's not a lot of us here. Me? I'm a bit of a social butterfly so I just dove right in, but I'm sure you'll warm up to it pretty soon."

Cessily smiled warmly and handed the takeout bowl to Laura, and the three turned their attention to preparing their meals.

###

Act III

###

Melita Garner pushed open the door of the tavern and stepped inside. The interior was not unlike the hundreds of others throughout the city of New York, and was dominated by a bar surrounded by stools for the patrons. A juke box stood in one corner, and the rest of the floor was occupied by tables. A set of double-doors opposite the front entrance led to the kitchens and storerooms in back. The lights were kept low, though the midday sun streamed through the windows looking out onto the street, and the place was filled with the sour odor of old beer.

The chairs had been stacked upside-down on their tables so the floors could be cleaned, and the handful of patrons actually visiting the establishment at this time of day were clustered around the bar itself. The bartender was an older man who in his youth had been well-built and muscular, but as age began to claim him that had developed into a bit of a gut, though he was still not the sort to be trifled with. He wore his dark hair, now fading into silver, cropped short.

Melita crossed the floor and took a stool a few seats down from a brown-haired man wearing a Yankees cap pulled low over his face. As she sat the bartender made his way over.

"What can I get you, honey?" he asked.

"The usual, Jack," she said.

Jack nodded and went to work, grabbing a snifter from a stack of freshly-cleaned glasses and filling it with scotch neat. He slid it over to her and Melita swirled it around a bit before taking a sip.

"Staying for lunch today?"

"No, she said, "Just stopped in for a quick drink before heading back to the station. How's the kids?"

"Doing just fine." Jack leaned on the bar and eyed her. "I caught your report this morning. I've got to say you've got balls. Stryker's a tough old son of a bitch. I never served with him myself but I heard the stories over in 'Nam. Ran some kind of black ops unit near the end of it, though there wasn't much more talk than that which filtered down to us."

"I've heard that," she said. "Did you know when I went to cover that Alkali Lake flood back in '03 I got turned away by troops posted on the road? Oh sure, they said it was for our own safety, but then my entire story was shut down. I've got a good source that says there was a lot more going on there than just a dam failure."

Jack shook his head. "You've been embedded with enough units in the Middle East to know the military loves to keep its secrets. They probably had some classified think tank in the area or something, and didn't want someone accidentally digging it up investigating the flood."

"Yeah, but somehow I don't think it's a coincidence that Stryker was picked up in the debris. And now his church's statements about the Xavier school? Christ, Jack, those are just a bunch of kids. Hell, you were around to see people bombing schools just because the kids had a different color skin."

"I'm not saying you're all wrong, hon', but Jesus, do you honestly think that Stryker is going to start blowing up mutie schools?"

Melita sighed pinched her nose wearily. "Yes. No. Maybe. But even if he doesn't, what's to stop someone reading his manifestos from doing it for him. I mean have you really stopped to look at those things?"

"C'mon, you know I don't go in for that tabloid-fodder crap."

"Believe me, it's some scary stuff. And what's worse is that a lot more people are willing to take it seriously." She took a long drink from her scotch, and propped her head on one hand. "Sure, Westboro picks up its share of lunatics, but it's a lot easier to stir up anti-mutant sentiment these days. If people even think Stryker might be calling for a religious crusade against them he's not going to have trouble filling the ranks."

Jack leaned on the bar and gazed at her levelly. "I think you're getting too invested in this, honey. You need to step back and take a break. Remember that you're supposed to be fair and impartial, even if it means giving crackpots their say."

Melita spread her arms in exasperation. "That's part of the problem! The crackpots are the ones getting the most air time. Do you remember where they stuck my interview with Charles Xavier? Three AM on a Sunday morning. The infomercials had better ratings."

She drained the last of her scotch and mopped her face.

"Maybe you're right, she continued. "Maybe I'm getting too invested, but we are supposed to be fair and impartial, so what the hell am I supposed to do when so much of the rest of the press is forgetting that." She sighed in exasperation. "Anyway, I need to get back to the office. Thanks for the ear babe. How much do I owe you?"

Jack patted her on the shoulder. "On me, hon'."

"Thanks, Jack. Take care of yourself."

"You too. You know if you keep ruffling feathers the way you do someone's eventually going to take offense."

Melita smiled at him. "That's why I love my job. Catch you later."

Melita got up and headed for the door. A minute or so later, the man in the Yankees cap finished his own drink, dropped a few bills on the bar, and followed.

###

Cessily leaned back in her chair nursing a can of Coca-Cola, and brushed the crumbs from her sandwich off her shirt. Laura was taking her time with the Chingudi Jhola and visibly savoring every bite. Sooraya watched the other girl with some amusement while she worked on finishing her own lunch, something she'd picked up from a halal deli in Salem Center.

"So I tell Josh that if that's the way he feels," Cessily was saying, "he should just tell her."

Sooraya regarded her thoughtfully. "Does Laurie feel the same way?" she asked.

Cessily gave an exaggerated shrug, the soda in her can sloshing a bit at the movement. "Damned if I know. She's so sensitive to what everyone else around her is feeling it's hard to tell what's her and what she's picking up from everyone else. I don't know how she even handles it."

"She has been working on filtering it out," Sooraya noted. "She seems to be doing better in small groups lately, though she has still been spending much of her free time alone."

Cessily gave a sigh. "Sometimes I wish I could have manifested empathy instead of…well…like this, but seeing what it does to her I don't know if I could handle it." She turned to Laura. "So what about you, Laura? When did you manifest?"

Laura hesitated a moment at the question, her spoon halfway between her bowl and her mouth, and a pained look passed across her eyes.

"I was seven," she said, bringing the spoon up the rest of the way and continuing to eat without another word, while Cessily and Sooraya regarded her with surprise.

"Seven?" Sooraya said, shock evident in her voice. "I did not think it possible for a mutation to manifest so young."

"Your source of information is flawed," she replied.

"So…what can you do?" Cessily asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

"I do mind."

"Oh," she said, taken aback by her curt response. Laura's expression was deeply troubled, however, and there was a haunted look in her eyes, as if she were recalling things best left buried.

"I am sorry," Laura said after a moment. "It is not something I wish to discuss."

Cessily offered her a reassuring smile. "It's ok. I understand, I really do. To be honest, I really don't like talking about…well…me much, either. Especially because of how much it stands out. People look at me and know right away what I am, so they start staring and it makes me uncomfortable."

"I don't know," a familiar voice interjected. "What I see is beautiful." Cessily smiled as Mark Sheppard walked into the kitchen, a binder tucked under his arm and his headphones hung around his neck. She suspected he had his iPod in some pocket of his jacket, and his t-shirt advertised some obscure local band she didn't recognize, and whom she was certain Mark could recite their full song catalog. "Your skin is particularly lustrous this morning," he continued.

Mark headed for the refrigerator for a soda, then returned to the table and dropped into a chair next to Cessily, running his hand back through his shaggy and stylishly messy black hair as he flashed a wink at her.

"Well thank you, Mark," she said, still smiling.

"And you look lovely too, Sooraya," he added, popping open his can and taking a drink. "Done something different with your hair today?"

Laura's spoon paused again, and she regarded Mark with a look of confusion.

"Her hair is covered in accordance with hijab," she said as if Mark were blind to the obvious.

They laughed in response to the seriousness of her tone, and Laura looked between the three in embarrassment before hastily finishing the spoonful.

"Oh, do not mind Mark, Laura," Sooraya said. "He is a shameless flirt. Mark, this is Laura."

He smiled at her. "Hi. You know, I thought I knew all the pretty girls at this school, where have you been hiding?"

Laura merely blushed and shrunk into her jacket.

"Laura just started today," Cessily said. "Sooraya was going to show her around a bit after lunch, and I'll probably tag along. You're welcome to come too, if you'd like."

Cessily gave Laura an amused look as she tried to resume eating.

Mark heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Much as I'd love to spend the rest of the day in the company of such lovely ladies I've got classes the rest of the day after lunch," he said. "Maybe another time, though. I'd love to get to know you better."

He winked at Laura, and Cessily couldn't help but smile when she noticed how visibly flustered the girl was by the attention. It was the most consistent show of emotion she had made since they met.

"Maybe we can meet up later if you're free?" he added.

Laura shrugged uncomfortably and continued eating without another word.

Mark gave Cessily and Sooraya a pained look. "Ouch, tough room. Was it something I said?"

"I am…not good with people," Laura said.

"Well, we'll have to work on that," he said. "Anyway, I've gotta run, so I'll see you ladies later. It's been a pleasure meeting you, lovely Laura."

Mark flashed her another wink, then departed the kitchen with his soda in hand. Laura watched him go with a bewildered expression, then turned her attention back to her lunch.

Cessily leaned in conspiratorially. "I think he likes you, Laura," she said with an amused smile.

"Mark likes everyone," Sooraya said, equally amused, "But he is sweet."

Laura did not respond, and merely finished the last of her lunch.

Sooraya took note of Laura's disinterest in continuing such a discussion, and pushed away from the table. "Well, if we are all finished, I think it's time to show Laura the rest of the school. Shall we?"

###

The sun was beginning to sink into the West, turning the sky the color of fire at the horizon before fading away to the darker indigo of approaching night. It made the gardens seem to glow, while long shadows began to stretch out like fingers across the school's grounds to cover the academy in darkness. Logan's sensitive ears could hear kids gathered in many small groups discussing the day's classes, or making plans to head into Salem Center for the night rather than have dinner at the school. Logan tuned this out as he always did, and watched as Jean Grey worked to separate Julian Keller from Quentin Quire, who were in the midst of a telekinetic and telepathic shoving match, Keller's distinct green aura lighting up the gardens in the fading daylight.

He wasn't quite sure what set the two off, but knowing what he did about the egos of both kids it probably didn't take much.

After a few moments, and finally resorting to her own power, Jean finally managed to put an end to the fight and sent them on back to the school, each glowering at the other, Quire no doubt getting in a few mental last words judging by Keller's expression. The two passed him by without a word while Jean trailed along behind them; tall, sophisticated, and almost seeming to glow in the late afternoon sunlight. Her long red hair was worn loose and almost blended in with the color of her blouse, and Logan had to carefully bury the thoughts and feelings bubbling up.

"Logan!" Jean said, and smiled warmly in greeting.

"Jeannie," he said gruffly, and thrust his hands in his pants pockets, never quite sure now how to approach her. She didn't need to exercise her power to know how he felt, but over the past decade he'd had no choice but to push those thoughts aside. When he first turned up he'd had no shame about pursuing her despite her relationship with Scott, but now? Slim sure wasn't someone he would have befriended in his old life, but he had come to respect the man's sheer ability to lead, and somehow in the process they had formed a strange bond over their shared love for this woman, and he had reluctantly chosen to back off for their sake, though it didn't make these conversations much easier.

"I knew the moment I saw Scott after the first classes this morning you were back," she said with amusement.

Logan quirked his own mouth into a grin. "Got him good an' riled up, did I?"

"He decided to take extended target practice this afternoon since he didn't have another class."

"Well if we really want to boil him..."

Of course, just because he had come to respect Scott and Jean's relationship didn't mean it wasn't fun to poke at it from time to time.

Jean's expression sobered somewhat, and she declined to continue the dance. "I saw that you found her, too."

Logan sighed. Is everyone going to be down on that poor girl today? "More like she found me. I know Slim ain't too happy about it, and the Professor's already shared his concerns. I suppose it's your turn, now."

Jean folded her arms across her chest and stared at the ground for a moment, familiar enough with Logan's idiosyncrasies to know he meant nothing by the comment, but whatever she had to say bothered her.

"Logan, I wasn't trying to pry into her privacy, but I did pierce her mental defenses — they're almost as strong as yours, by the way. What I saw there..."

"Look Jeannie, I know..."

Jean looked at him sharply. "No, Logan, I don't think you do. At least not really. Yes, you know what she's been through better than any of us, but you only know from what the Professor has helped you to remember. She remembers every single detail. She's on the edge, and if she falls off it could be disastrous for her and anyone around her. What she could be made to do..."

"I know!" he said, just as sharply as Jean's visual rebuke, and she flinched back in response. "Are you saying you don't like her being here, either?"

She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "I know you want to help her, as does the Professor. It's why we're here. But we have a responsibility to the other students as well. Maybe nothing will happen, but you're introducing her to a situation that for someone like her can be incredibly volatile."

"So the kid's dangerous," Logan said, feeling his frustration start to get the better of him. "So am I. So are you, and Cyke, and hell, all these kids." He made a show of indicating the grounds with a sweep of his arms.

Jean nodded. "I know. She's going to need you, though, and you're not always going to be around."

He sighed and nodded. His responsibilities with the X-Men elsewhere frequently took him away from the school, and Jean was right about that. Laura had opened up to him, even if it was only for a little bit, but he wouldn't always be here if she needed him. "That's why I brought her here. But I'm not gonna just run off and leave her, I'll be sure she can reach me if she needs me."

Jean arced one eyebrow high in amusement. "Really? Who would have ever thought you would have become responsible."

Logan smirked. "Yeah, well, try and keep that between you an' me, I got a reputation to hold up with the kids. I'm kinda getting used to the reverent awe when I walk through the halls."

Jean leaned into him and lowered her voice. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Anyway, Scott is wondering why I haven't come back from my intramural class with the telepaths and telekinetics yet. We'll catch up with you later."

Logan nodded. "Right. Well, when you see him, tell him I said 'bite me.'"

Jean smiled and started away. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it. It's good to see you, Logan."

"Good to see you, Jeannie."

He watched Jean walk away, then sighed and turned his attention back to the gardens for a few minutes as the autumn breeze rustled through the trees.

That was when she arrived. He didn't hear her approach, of course. The girl moved like a goddamn cat: swift, graceful, silent. He'd known what to expect when he set out some days ago to lure her into the open, but actually seeing her in motion was a thing of terrifying beauty. He only sensed her now from her scent; disturbingly familiar, and just different enough to highlight the similarities and mark just how wrong it was in the first place. Though he knew she would have been coming from the school, she had circled around so as to approach him from upwind, deliberately announcing her imminent arrival. Otherwise even with his enhanced senses she could have taken him completely unawares had she so chosen.

He could have easily done the same were the situation reversed.

"Hey, kid," he said as she arrived beside him.

"I am not a kid," Laura said, a trace of irritation briefly appearing on her features, before vanishing back into the stony mask she typically wore, and was so out of place on someone so young.

Logan quirked an amused smile, tempered by the knowledge of why her rebuttal was made so seriously. "You're close enough, darlin'."

Laura looked down and hugged herself, her expression blank once again. He wasn't fooled, of course. For much of the last few decades he had buried the rage, at least during the rare times he didn't want the world to see it. In the last twelve or so years he had pushed it down more and more frequently as he rebuilt his life, rebuilt his family, but it was still there bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed at need and visible to anyone who knew him. He saw it in her as well, in the way she moved and carried herself, and could even smell it in her scent. But in Laura rage was a secondary emotion, forced down deep and smothered by pain and grief that she didn't mask nearly as completely as she thought. If one knew where to look they didn't need to be an empath to see it.

Since the camp she had not talked about what had happened to her at all, forcing it all back down to fester again, and as he considered Xavier's and Jean's words he felt concern rising up. For all the rest that she was he could still see the vulnerable young girl she attempted to hide from the rest of the world, and Logan knew better than anyone how self-destructive what she was feeling could be if left buried.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. Logan could smell the lie on her, but decided not to press.

He gave her a sympathetic frown, and gently took her by the shoulder. "C'mon, let's see about grabbin' something to eat. Feel like a trip to the city?"

Laura just shrugged.

"We'll make that a yes for now. Guess we'll have to work on the communication thing."

He put an arm around her shoulders and the two started down the path, leaving the dead to sleep behind them.

###

Act IV

###

Logan and Laura left the pizzeria and stepped out into the night air. Logan fished into the pocket of his new jacket — he had given up entirely on the idea of asking Laura for his old one back — for a cigar and paused to light it up, then the two made their way up the street while Laura sipped at her soda.

"I'll talk to the Professor when we get back and get you added to these classes," he said. "So how are you holdin' up here?"

"I have doubts," she said glumly. "I am uncertain whether I belong there."

Logan nodded in understanding.

"So was I, at first. And maybe I still don't completely, which is why I've been more in and out. But they're good people who've helped me plenty. Xavier, Ororo, Marie an' Kitty. Hell, even Cyclops, but not like I'll ever admit that to his face." He flashed her a grin, but if Laura found the comment amusing she didn't show it. "They can help you, too."

"I fear that it may be too late for me, and that I am beyond helping."

Logan stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "Hey, don't say that about yourself. I know what you've gone through. I've been there. And if there's one thing they taught me it's that there's no one beyond helping who actually wants it. You have a chance for a normal life here. Well, at least as normal as it gets for people like us. I ain't saying it's gonna be easy, but don't give up on yourself."

Laura didn't respond at first, as if she were weighing his words carefully. "You will be there?"

He gave her a smile and nodded. "Often as I can. Like I said, I tend to be in and out, but if you ever need to talk I'll leave you a way to get in touch with me. You got a phone, right?"

"Yes," she said, hesitating a moment before adding, "Thank you."

They started up the street again. "Besides, those are some good kids," he said, "so you shouldn't have trouble makin' friends, and you might not even notice when I'm not in. Sooraya show you around?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I think the two of you will get along pretty good."

"She made an effort, but I do not know if I made a good impression."

"Sooraya's got a good level head 'neath that niqab. Don't think there's much you can say to set her off."

Laura considered that. "She seemed understanding. As did Cessily. Mark…I was not sure what to make of."

Logan smirked around his cigar at her. Mark Sheppard's reputation preceded him, and even if Logan wasn't at the school very often, word did get back to him about the student body. "Started on you, did he?"

"I was…flattered," she admitted. "But it made me uncomfortable because of…"

She trailed off and he was treated to the rare sight of her face coloring in embarrassment as memories she would rather not have resurfaced. Logan put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"I know," he said. "Don't worry about him, he didn't mean anything by it."

"I just do not know how to be around others."

He chuckled. "Hell kid, most teenagers don't. It's part of what bein' a teenager is, so you're not lagging as far behind the others as you think. Trust me, you're smart. You'll find yourself before long."

Laura nodded uncertainly and shrunk a bit into her jacket as they proceeded down the street.

###

Taylor leaned against the lamppost watching the front of the restaurant, the bill of his Yankees cap pulled down low over his eyes, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. He had spent most of the day following her, and now everything was in place. If Reverend Stryker wanted the woman dealt with, he wouldn't let him down.

After a few more minutes of waiting Melita Garner exited the restaurant with a group of other people. She wore heels — excellent, that would make it harder for her to run — and a fashionable dress, and carried her purse slung across her body in a way that would protect it from anyone trying to snatch it. After a few hugs and goodbyes the group she was with split up, and Garner headed off alone up the street. Taylor let her get a short ways ahead, just enough spacing that his pursuit wouldn't be obvious with the rest of the pedestrian traffic, and followed.

Garner arrived alone at a street corner to hail a cab, and Taylor quickly stepped up behind her. He pulled snub-nosed revolver from inside his jacket and buried the muzzle in the small of her back. Garner's body went rigid and alarm spread across her features.

"Don't move," he hissed into her ear.

"There's two-hundred in cash and my credit card in my purse," she said. "You don't need to pull that trigger."

"Shut up, this isn't a mugging. We're taking a nice, quiet walk to that alley over there." He motioned vaguely ahead of them and to their left.

Garner's eyes widened even further and her face paled as a new fear entered her mind. While her thoughts were likely inaccurate as to what he intended, Taylor allowed her imagination to run away with her and dug the muzzle of his revolver deeper into her back as he forced her to move in the direction he indicated. They started forward, and he positioned himself to hide the weapon in her back so casual passersby couldn't see it.

However before they could reach the alley Garner stumbled, a bit too conveniently to have been natural and enough to take her out of his line of fire. Before he could readjust his aim he felt the impact of her elbow slamming into his gut, doubling him over and driving the air from his lungs. The next blow went to his chin — from hardness and focus of the impact she must have gotten one of her shoes off and struck him with the heel — and snapped his head backwards. A final blow to the temple with her shoe sent him spinning into the pavement.

Dazed, Taylor struggled back to his feet and watched as Garner took off running barefoot along the street. As she passed the entrance to the alley several other men emerged, staring in bewilderment between Taylor and Garner as she charged past. He quickly pulled a phone from his pocket.

"Don't just stand there!" he snapped. "Go after her!"

The men took off in pursuit while he hastily dialed a number.

###

Melita fled down the street, her heart pounding in her throat at the realization she was being pursued. Another gang emerged around a corner, one talking on a phone, and shouted as they spotted her. She swore under her breath when they forced her to turn down an alley as they cut off her original line of flight.

This wasn't a rape, these men were looking for me!

They followed her in, and she could hear the pounding of their feet echoing in the alley as they closed in behind her. Up ahead the first group reappeared, blocking her in. Melita skidded to a halt, skinning the soles of her bare feet on the pavement, and immediately looked for a weapon from among the rest of the trash strewn about. She grabbed a broken curtain rod, and as soon as her assailants came within reach started swinging.

###

"This is unnecessary," Laura said, indicating the bags from Trash & Vaudeville she was carrying.

He glanced down at her in amusement, still chewing on his cigar. Logan didn't really get fashion, and there was much eye-rolling at some of what he had seen inside the two shops, but he decided her finding things that made her comfortable was worth it. However dark her personal style was, it still made her happy to have something of her own, or at least as close as he had seen her, and that was enough for him.

"You're kiddin' me, right?" he said. "You know the only people that wear the same thing every day are on TV and in comic books."

"I mean everything."

Logan sighed, guessing at her meaning.

"Yeah, it is necessary," he said. "You deserve better than what you've gotten, kid, and things I done are a big part of it."

"You were not responsible."

He gave her a significant look. "Neither were you, so…"

Logan trailed off, and both he and Laura froze. A fight had a distinct sound to it, ways that one could estimate how many were involved on each side, and even who was winning. The sounds of the one carrying to him now were particularly one-sided, and there was something familiar about one of the voices…

"Logan…" Laura started.

"Yeah, I hear it," he said. "C'mon." He hurried down the street, not needing to bother checking to see if Laura was keeping up with him.

###

Melita swung the curtain rod wildly. She managed to catch a couple of the thugs, knocking out teeth and bloodying noses, however there are too many for her and eventually they managed to overwhelm her. She snarled furiously as she fought against them, until a sharp blow to the stomach drove the air from her lungs. She felt another sharp impact to the side of her head, and for a moment the darkened alley vanished in a blinding flash of light.

She was distantly aware of the ground rushing up to meet her, and splitting open the skin of her knees and cutting her palms on the pavement. Then she felt herself roughly hauled back to her feet before another blow to the face put the last of the fight out of her.

The haze began to clear and she saw the man with the Yankees cap approach her, dabbing blood from his nose with one hand, and his revolver in another.

"Goddamn mutie-lover," he said, and she practically recoiled at the hatred in his voice.

His gun-hand flew, and the world exploded with light as he whipped her across the face. She felt the flesh of her cheek tear open as some part of the revolver made contact with skin, and the anger welling up over that was enough to snap her back to alertness. Melita recovered from the blow and spit the blood filling her mouth on him. It earned her another pistol-whipping, and this time she was left so dazed that she collapsed into the arms of the men holding her.

"Stupid bitch!" he snapped. "Betraying your own kind and running your mouth on shit you don't know anything about. It's time someone shut you up and put you back in your place."

The man raised his revolver and cocked back the hammer.

"I'd think twice, bub," a familiar voice said. Melita looked up, and through vision blurred from the blow to her head saw an equally familiar figure standing at the entrance to the alley. She managed a bloody smile at the impending bloodbath.

Logan's face twitched with barely-restrained rage as he regarded the scene. A young girl of about sixteen or seventeen stood behind him, watching with an expression that almost seemed…bored. The leader of her assailants turned his revolver on him. Against most people, the gesture would have been suitably threatening.

Logan was not most people.

"This is none of your business," the man said. "Turn around, and walk away."

"You gonna make me?"

Without further hesitation Taylor fired his revolver. The round struck Logan in the chest and staggered him momentarily, but he only snarled in fury as his body pushed out the bullet and repaired the wound. A distinct metallic ring filled the alley as his claws extended, and everything else became deathly silent.

"That the best you can do, bub?"

"Get that mutie freak!" the man yelled, and his men grabbed whatever weapons they could find, forgetting her as they rushed Logan as a mob.

###

Why do they always got to pull the trigger?

His private musings didn't last long after he popped his claws, and rather than the hoped-for response of the thugs panicking into flight they grabbed any weapon that came to hand and attacked. Logan managed a small grin. And he thought he'd be spending most of the night babysitting.

"Get back," he said with a glance down at Laura.

"But…" she started in protest, and he made it clear he would have none of it.

"But's" nothin'," he said. "Don't want you to have to be part of this."

He knew damn well Laura could take care of herself against this group, but that was beside the point. She shouldn't have to. She was just a goddamn kid, and shouldn't have to be part of situations like this.

Logan let that thought feed into the rage, the injustice of it mingled with the need to defend an old friend, stoking the flames roiling beneath the mask of calm. And then he unleashed it, wading into the gang as they rushed towards him, tearing through them with chilling ease.

The confines of the alley worked to his advantage. They couldn't circle around him, and the only way at him was a frontal attack. The men came expecting to beat up a lone, unarmed woman. What they got was three-hundred-odd pounds of muscle, rage, and adamantium-laced death.

He stepped under a ferocious haymaker and slashed out the back of the man's knee, putting him into the pavement. Another came at him with a lead pipe. Logan cut it in two and smashed the wielder's face in with his elbow. He rolled through them with speed belying his size, his claws flashing in the dim light of the alley. Blood sprayed across the walls, arcing in brilliant crimson arcs, and the coppery scent of it filled the air.

For his part Logan made an effort to avoid killing blows, focusing his efforts on disabling weapons and limbs. A decade ago he would have slaughtered them without a second thought, but times had changed. He had changed. And the girl in his charge needed to see that she could, too. Of course, self-preservation still took the lead over mercy, and a couple of the thugs went down with slashed necks and stabs to their chests.

The fight was over in moments, and soon he found himself standing over a pile of bodies. Most were still moving and groaning, crawling away or lying dazed at his feet.

"Logan!" Melita cried, and Logan immediately snapped his attention in her direction.

The man with the Yankees cap held her as a human shield with his revolver leveled at her temple. His eyes were wide with alarm as Logan started towards him.

"Stay back or I'll splatter her brains all over the wall!" the man barked, and made a show of pressing the muzzle against Melita's temple.

Logan didn't even check his pace, and gave him his best enraged scowl. "Oh, you really don't want to be doin' that, bub," he snarled. "Your buddies got off easy. Pull that trigger and I'll cut you into little pieces and feed 'em back to you one by one."

The man tightened his grip on both Garner and his gun.

"I said stay b—"

He didn't have time to finish. A curtain rod struck the back of his outside knee, buckling it and driving him to the ground. His gun arm flew open as he fell in an effort to steady himself, and another blow shattered his wrist, sending the weapon clattering across the alley. A third strike to the back of his head put him down the rest of the way.

Laura emerged from behind Melita and stood over the man's prostrate form, holding the curtain rod in a relaxed guard at her shoulder. Logan had to admit being impressed. He didn't even see her move after the fight started, and she must have used the distraction to circle around behind him.

"Thought I told you to stay out of it?" he said instead, and retracted his claws. He did tell her, after all.

"Someone needed to secure the hostage," she said, as if it should have been blindingly obvious. "If it helps I did not kill him."

Logan conceded the point with an exasperated grunt and hurried the rest of the way across the alley to Melita, who was leaning against a wall and trying to steady herself.

"You alright," he asked as he reached her. She'd taken a few nasty blows to the side of the head, but otherwise seemed intact.

"I've got a splitting headache," she said. "But a couple aspirin and I'll be good as new. How've you been, baby?"

Logan smirked. "Same as ever. Been a while."

She smiled back. "Yes, it has. I can't tell you just how glad I am to see you're back in town, though." She looked at Laura. "So who's your little friend?"

"I joined Big Brothers, Big Sisters," he said dryly. "Figured I oughta be given' back to the community. She's my Little Sister."

Melita rolled her eyes, not quite believing his story. "Right," she said doubtfully.

He took a quick look over his shoulder as Laura deftly stepped around the thugs sprawled across the alley. Those that were able to regain their feet and were able promptly fled, leaving the rest of their comrades behind. "So who'd you piss off this time?"

She sighed and rubbed her cheek. A nasty gash had been cut across it, which would probably require more than a few stitches to close and a little bit of reconstructive surgery to hide. Might talk to the Professor and see about having Josh sent over.

"I don't know," she said. "I'd just finished having dinner with some friends and was looking for a cab, and the next thing I know this guy's got a gun in my back. I managed to get away from him only to learn he had friends. Apparently he doesn't care much for my support for Mutant Rights."

"Yeah, I wonder…"

The man in the Yankees cap began to stir, and Logan stepped over to grab him, and lifted him up and pinned him against the wall. He slapped his cheek to rouse him, and as the man returned to full consciousness he glared back at Logan with hate in his eyes.

"Hey, bub, wake up. So you just had your ass kicked by a ninety pound, seventeen year-old girl," he said. "That's gonna be the high point of your evening if you don't cooperate, 'cause I'm thinking this wasn't just a random act of violence. Who sent you?"

"Screw you, freak," the man spat.

Logan sighed and made a show of his annoyance at that response. "Alright, I'll explain the rules to you. You got three chances…" He placed a fist under the man's chin, aimed at his throat, and extended the left claw. It left a shallow cut along the side of his neck and blood began to flow. "…and that was one. So let's try it again: Who sent you?"

The man just glared at him defiantly, so Logan popped the right claw, leaving matching trails of blood streaming down his neck.

"Strike two," he snarled. "Last chance: Who sent you?"

The man once again refused to respond. Logan sighed, and extended the third claw into his throat. His body jerked and blood bubbled from his mouth, and Logan let him collapse to the ground, where he began to bleed to death onto the pavement.

Laura regarded his handiwork impassively. "That was unproductive," she said flatly.

"Usually they talk after number two," he said with a shrug. "C'mon, let's get out of here before someone comes along. We'll go out the back end."

Laura retrieved her shopping bags while Logan returned to Melita. She made a show of protesting despite her difficulty maintaining her feet, before allowing herself to be supported as the trio exited the alley and hurried away from the scene.

###

They didn't need to go far, as there was a hospital nearby. A small but steady stream of patients and visitors moved in and out, and by the time they reached it Melita had sufficiently recovered that she could walk under her own power. A fact she had been repeating several times over the past fifteen or so minutes.

"How many times do I need to tell you, I'm fine," she protested.

Logan grunted. "Like hell you are," he said. "And make sure you report this."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. At least I can cover my own assault, maybe stir up at least a little outrage."

He flashed her a wry grin. "Ain't that what got you into this in the first place?"

She smiled back. "It's what I do. So get going, I'm sure you two won't want to be around when questions start flying."

"Right. Take care, it's good to see you again."

"Maybe next time it'll be under better circumstances. Nice to meet you, Laura."

Melita offered Laura a hand. The girl hesitated uneasily a moment as she regarded it, then slowly accepted it in a brief handshake. Melita gathered Logan into a friendly hug and gave him peck on the cheek, before finally making her way towards the hospital entrance.

"Think we've had enough fun for one night," he said. "Let's get back and get you settled in."

They watched Melita go for a moment to make sure she made it inside without trouble, then Logan put an arm around the girl's shoulder and led her up the street for home.

###

Act V

###

The next morning found Cessily sitting on the couch in the lounge. Julian sat next to her idly spinning the remote control through the air, one hand glowing green as he manipulated it. They had a few minutes before they had to head to class, and Cessily wanted to catch the news. Julian didn't argue, and instead slumped in the couch next to her.

She glanced across to Julian, whose expression was downcast. By now most of the school had heard about his argument with Sofia, and as usual it had quickly escalated from a simple spat to the potential for wind and telekinetically-flung projectiles, and yet another breakup. Oh, she was certain that by the end of the week the two would be back together. Again. But Julian's ego so rarely allowed him to actually show when he'd been hurt that the times it did slip through made her hurt for him as well.

He didn't want to talk about it, of course, but he at least accepted a friendly comforting hug.

Cessily turned her attention back to the television, where Melita Garner sat at a desk with other newscasters, her injuries from the night before clearly evident on her face. With a handful of telepaths in the school it didn't take long for the news to filter down she had been attacked by anti-mutant extremists before they in turn ran afoul of an angry Wolverine. The biggest surprise when she caught the actual report on TV this morning was that most of the assailants actually got off with their lives and limbs intact.

"…and how bad has the situation deteriorated when you have people being assaulted on a public street for voicing an opinion?" Garner was saying. Her face was battered and swollen in a few places, and she wore a bandage on her cheek, but the reporter had insisted on appearing anyway. Cessily admired the courage that showed, but she wondered if there was another purpose for it. She guessed that showing what had been done to her would create a bit of shock and outrage.

"The pattern we've been seeing in the past years is not unlike the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s," she continued, "Where gangs of thugs feel free to use threat of violence to incite fear and silence opposing voices.

"I'm only thankful that at least one anonymous citizen realized what was happening and had the courage to come to my aid. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for showing that the capacity for doing the right thing isn't determined by race, religion or gender, mutant or not."

As Garner finished her report Laura entered the lounge, gliding in with complete silence and carrying her backpack on one shoulder. Cessily waved at her and smiled in greeting.

"Good morning!" she said cheerily. "How was your first night?"

"Uneventful," Laura said with a glance at the television.

Cessily regarded her for a moment. She'd heard from Sooraya that Logan would be taking Laura into town the night before, so almost certainly she would have seen the fight, but she waved the matter off. Laura was just a kid, after all, and she knew Logan would never have taken her into a situation that would put her at risk. "That's good to hear. We'll have you completely settled in in no time. You've met Julian."

Laura's green eyes fixed on him for a moment, before returning to her. "Yes," she said.

"Can you even construct a sentence longer than one word?" Julian growled irritably. Cessily rolled her eyes. Julian no doubt was blaming his latest quarrel with Sofia on the new girl. As if to emphasize his displeasure, he sent the remote flying at Laura's head with a casual flick of the wrist. And she just as casually snatched it out of the air without even flinching.

Neither of them could do much more than stare open-mouthed for a moment at the speed of her reaction, and it was a moment before Cessily could find her voice.

"Julian! Do you have to be an ass every waking minute of the day?" she snapped, giving him a sisterly swat to the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Laura."

Laura merely shrugged and casually tossed the remote back to Julian. He fumbled it, drawing an irritated murmur from him.

She watched him flail for control of the remote for a moment, then turned her attention back to Cessily. "I will be attending class with you this morning," she said.

Cessily smiled. "Hey that's great! There's an empty seat next to me. We have a lab today so I can help you get caught up. Julian and I just finished breakfast, so we can all head over together."

Julian shot Cessily an annoyed look at being volunteered, at which she flashed him a smirk. If Laura noted the exchange she didn't show it.

"Very well," she said. "We should go, I do not like to be late."

Cessily gleefully jumped off the couch, and practically dragged Julian with her. He managed a yelp of protest and stumbled until he caught up with her. "I just know you're going to love it here!" she said, giving the girl a broad smile.

"I will try," she said.

Cessily took Laura on one arm and Julian on the other, and ignoring Julian's exasperated expression lead the pair out of the lounge.

---

A Note From The Author

And here we see how the series begins. As I mentioned in the note at the top of the page, there's a bit of retconning with X3 going on here. Xavier and Cyclops are obviously alive, though Jean's death at the end of X2 stands. I tried to be deliberately vague enough that The Wolverine and Days of Future Past could potentially fill in some gaps in the background, but most of this was written based on the state of the characters at the end of X2. Stryker's flashback was the result of rewatching the end of X2, which never actually showed him being killed, so was my best effort at a plausible explanation how he could have survived.

The biggest difficulty of this series is the cast of the X-Films, which I would really want to use. Patrick Stewart is one of the awesomest guys on the face of the planet, and I have no doubts at all that he'd be totally game for reprising Xavier on the small screen. However I can't imagine anyone else as Wolverine than Hugh Jackman, which would probably take a tremendous amount of the budget to bring on. I had to include him, though, if for no other reason than to have a big guest-star to help launch the series, and of course I gave him a big part to play in the fourth act. Then again, you never know and Jackman (my impression of whom is a pretty awesome guy, and certainly seems to enjoy himself) might be willing to do it just to have fun with it. Ellen Page is probably low-profile enough that it wouldn't be hard to get her to put in the occasional appearance as Kitty Pryde, and expect Rogue to pop up (Anna Paquin is already primarily a TV actress, so I'd imagine getting her to appear wouldn't be too hard). I'd really like to rehab Cyclops after just how badly he was derailed in X2 and X3, but James Marsden might be in the same boat as Jackman: A bit too big to use frequently. I regret not giving him much time in this episode, but my original draft was actually in script format, and probably would have required trimming to fit in a 60-minute block as it was (so for reference, expect the other episodes to be about this length).

You've also now got a taste of how characters from the main Earth-616 continuity will be fit into the series. There's some definite departures right from the very start, but my aim is to stay as faithful to the characterizations as I can (for which I have some assistance, as I've not been an avid reader myself) while adapting the characters, their relationships, and their stories. I'm well-aware that Mark Sheppard and Laura Kinney never got the chance to interact, but in this universe I think there's potential to have some fun with how they might have. There will be some other minor tweaks as well, but my intent is to avoid the drastic character derailment that occurred in X3, so any changes I make will try to have some sort of specific logic behind them.

Obviously, Laura is the main focus of this episode and is going to be one of the main characters of the series, and I'll admit that I'm an X-23 fan. I'm also well-aware of how troublesome of a character she can be. Laura is a game-breaker. Threats that might be at the limits of the rest of the kids' capabilities are trivial for her due to her training, so that's something I'll need to figure out. I'm also aware that her development has often been handled poorly in the books. Obviously this will just be my take on her character, but I'm hoping that my treatment is able to both do justice to what is gotten right, while also rectifying many of the problems. Right away I decided I wanted to keep her nature as vague as possible for as long as possible, in part to keep her from overwhelming the rest of the cast. I don't even intend to write parts of any episodes from her perspective for most of the first "season" for this very reason. Remember, I'm not just writing this for people already familiar with the characters, but with the idea that it's for an audience who might know the X-Films but little else.

This episode also introduces about a third of the main cast. Because of its size, there may be some characters who don't appear in every episode.

Well, now that I've written an entire DVD commentary worth of notes, I hope you enjoyed the "Pilot." Stay tuned!

---

A Note From The Author (7/19/2014)

Well, Days of Future Past has come and gone and, wouldn't you know it, the changes to the timeline were a lot more extensive than I anticipated! Obviously the biggest issue is that not only is Cyclops still alive, so is Jean Grey! After some wrestling with it, I decided to go ahead and retcon 1x01 to update the story to this new situation. Obviously we don't know how different the new timeline will be beyond that, yet, so I'm still operating from the idea that the original events happen in broad strokes.

Aside from that, I'm sorry about the lack of updates, I've been real busy, but keep hanging in there! I insist this story isn't dead, and 1x05 is still in the works!