Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution does not belong to me... if it
did, this story would be very cannon-y. Slash, m/m pairing, get
the jist of it. :B This is my prayer that 'On Angels' Wings' is
actually about Warren getting his cute, rich butt on the show and
making everything better... considering you'd have the original
five X-Men there.... o_o or am I wrong again?.. Oh well. ^_^ Must
have third blue boy! Yee~haw!
And for the record, :B I'm not too well educated in personalities or even the Marvel world, so cut me some slack, would you?
Angelic Dreams
Part 1
The world was bright and clean, not tainted like what he knew. The trees were as green as they were in storybooks. The breeze was babysoft on his bare skin, the sun was warm, and the air rung with music.
He lay on his back, watching the clouds go by. He saw then some oddly-shaped ones, such as a fire-breathing turtle, a sleeping cat, and, remarkably, a sailboat. But there was one that was very peculiar-looking, almost real as it traveled infront of the sun. The cloud looked like outstretched wings. The hole in the middle.. looked like a man, with sky-blue skin that wore those wings. And as the sun skimmed over the top of the opening, the light gave it the affect that the shape had golden hair.
It was, refreshing in a way, that an angel, even one of the clouds, was watching over him. Sometimes, your life never does go right and all you really need is a shoulder to lean on.
But as he watched the sky, a subtle darkness loomed out of sight, for the moment. A dream may be just a dream, but it was a very powerful element if used properly..
"Ow! Ju~bes!"
Jubilee waved her fork at the would-be thief menacingly. "Serves you right. Next time, you'll think twice about stealing /my/ apple slices."
The others around the dinning table (who were actually paying attention) snickered as Bobby rubbed his offending hand and pouted at the asian girl, throwing at her his bundled adorability and innocence into the equation. "But you took the last of the Delicious apples!"
It worked unsuccessfully. "Then find other.. 'delicious' apple to eat. They're all the same."
Bobby nearly went cross eyed at the explanation that ran through his mind and decided not to add more confusion between them; he shut up, for once. And breakfast went on as it always did: in chaos.
Getting ready for school after that was less of a battle. The slackers rushed to finish their homework from the day before, the late wakers rushed for the showers, and the designated drivers rushed for their passengers to get into the cars. After all, none of them were like Quicksilver with the 'amazing' ability to get from point A to point B in 4.8 seconds.
Maybe Cannonball, though... if he could ever learn how to manipulate his powers to a higher degree than bursting through walls.
And soon, it was just another day of painfully boring lessons, gym, and Brotherhood harrassment.
Elsewhere...
"You know, Warren, you've been looking a bit on the grey side these days. Are you alright?"
California was a great place to live, if you were in the right area. But sometimes, you could be in a wonderful spot and never see what's around you. So was the case for the students in a remote boarding school, located in the northern part of the state. Surrounded by walls and held in until the weekend, the students were restricted.
Or, most of them were.
"I feel fine. Though when the nurse saw me, she said I spent too much time inside. Not enough sun for me."
"This can't be from lack of sun."
"Don't know what it could be then."
Two young men had a break from their classes and were currently enjoying each other's company, the light, salty winds from the west, and the left-overs from breakfast. And when others passed by, all they saw were two blondes, one golden, one sickly pale, sitting under one of the few trees in the courtyard.
"Maybe you should see a real doctor. Something could be seriously wrong."
"Oh yeah, like the extra limbs on my back aren't wrong enough."
St. John smiled dryly and eyed the large coat his friend wore, taking a large bite out of the sesame muffin swiped from the cafeteria. "Speaking of that little bit, don't you think that it's risky to stay here? Someone's gonna wonder why you wear that thing everywhere... and they're still growing."
Warren shook his head. "You know that I said I wouldn't let it ruin my education. Unlike you, the destructive pyromaniac of my life, I can't hide them, but I refuse to let it hinder me."
"'Ren, what are you going to do if they get too big to hide? Who the hell's gonna hire a man with wings on their back??"
"Oh for god sake's, John. I have /wings/. What kind of mutant is dangerous if all they have is wings? I'd think that something more threatening to safety would be ... someone who could walk through walls or.. crap, I don't know, have uncontrollable eyebeams. Hell, even a shapeshifter would be more dangerous than a bird man."
"Do you think there are people who could do that?"
"I really have no idea."
Cerebro's systems slowly powered down and Professor Xavier's mind was brought back to the physical plane. There was something strange about the mutant the computer had just picked up. Apparently, his X-gene had already shown it's intent, but only now did Cerebro pick up on the mutation.
Warren Worthington III... Would you care to join us?
He placed the helm back on the console and turned his chair around, leaving the large room and locking it down. He had to go see a Dean about a transfer.
Warren couldn't sit still as the science teacher droned on about stuff people only paid half attention to. His back was itching again and, to his dismay, meant only one thing. The worry it caused was nearly pulling wrinkles no his face.
The blonde didn't have the slightest idea how far his feathery assets would grow this time and if the growth spurt went beyond the coat's limit, then not only would it be difficult to rehide them, but the entire student body would panic as a lovely bonus prize. Warren grimaced.
Ever since the doctors told him, right after a bicycle accident, he'd always wondered why he was born with hollow bones, like a bird's skeleton. But when he hit his fourteen, Warren began to realize the answer. The same doctors, when they saw the tiny feathered muscles sticking out of his back, were about ready to split him open. He was only lucky that his father cared enough about him to shut them up.
And they grew a little more once every month. And now, at seventeen, it was a secret that was getting harder and harder to hide. St. John was convinced that never a more splendid mutation had ever been produced. Of course, Mr. Aussie Allerdyce had only come across a telepath, an empath, and a sort of geomancer in his time. He was still looking for that last one too... Warren frowned. John had said something about feeling a kinship with him, yet couldn't for the sake of himself know why.
As the man upfront continued to babble on, Warren sighed and looked down at the back of his hand. Something about it itched too. Well, not a real itch. More like something small and prickly was crawling around under his skin.. John was probably right. He needed to see a doctor about this.. or something.
"Mr. Worthington?"
"Huh?" He snapped out of his thoughts with a jerk, looking down from the tier to the floor below. "Yes, Mr. Chordsdale?"
"Dean Marter would like to see you right away."
"...Oh... Does that mean right now?"
The elderly man nodded. "If you would, please."
Warren gathered his things quickly and left the room in the same manner. It was the last class he had to attend for the day, but he didn't really mind getting out ten minutes early.. But what could the Dean want with me? he mused, drawing his brows together. He had never done anything wrong.. that he was aware of, anyway.
Maybe.. he knows about my mutation? But how....?
...Am I molting?! With dreaded paranoia, he looked behind himself and across the floor his path had taken him. No white feathers lined the green carpetting, but that still didn't ease his alarm. But all too soon, he reached Marter's outer office and, to the secretary, said, "Hi.. Um, the Dean sent for me?"
"You're Warren?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The woman smiled kindly and nodded. "I doubt you're in trouble, Mr. Worthington. You seem like a very nice man to me."
With a light blush on his face, Warren gave an embarrassed grin in return. "Thank you, ma'am."
The secretary gave another nod and buzzed the head of the school through the intercom on her desk. "Sir, Warren Worthington is here."
"Send him in, please."
That was the blonde's cue to walk through the door without another word. Beyond the barrier of wood was a very nice, spacious office. Oh sure, it was cluttered in some areas, but it was relatively... homey. And beyond the desk was a man in his late forties, grey hairs making themselves comfortable in the thinning nest of brown.
But he wasn't alone. There were two other men with him. One was an aging man in a motorized wheelchair, with perceptive eyes and no hair at all. The other, standing beside him like an unmoving sentry, was a not too tall, stocky man with a very wild and primal look to him. He seemed about as, if not more, observant than his companion.
The Dean motioned for the boy to enter. "Please, if you'd have a seat, Warren."
Warren did as he was told, trying not to look between the two stangers and Dean Marter. And the latter began beating around the bush a bit. "Don't worry, Warren. You are /not/ in trouble. This is merely an interview."
"Ummm..." It wasn't the most intellegent thing to say, but it was all that he really could say. The man in the wheelchair rolled closer. "Yes, it is. My name is Professor Charles Xavier and I wanted to discuss with you the possibility of transferring your academics to my school in Bayville, Conneticut."
Warren turned in his chair, blinking. "Is there.. a reason?"
Xavier nodded. "Yes, I run a school for special and talented students, who feel they are missing something in their lives. Your records show you are very intelligent, but have mathmatical problems and nothing so far has seemed to work." He paused for a moment to study the body before him. "I would be honored if you would care to return with us to Conneticut and see if we could help you overcome that problem."
Warren now did begin shifting his sight between the Dean and the Professor. Something seemed... off about the proposal. Granted, the though of having tutors give him one last chance at arithmetic was wonderful, but there was a hidden message in there somewhere. Something he just couldn't put his fingers on... "That... would be great, but..." He trailed off, unsure.
Professor Xavier frowned and seemed to still for a moment, before turning to Marter to ask, "Is it alright if you excuse yourself from the room, please, Dean? I would like to talk to Warren alone."
Marter caught Warren's gaze. "Is that alright with you?"
"It's okay."
Marter was out of the room in three heartbeats and when the door closed, the unnamed man began rolling up his sleeve. A blonde eyebrow rose, but Xavier stole his attention back to himself. "We'd like to help you, Warren, not only with your mental block, but also with the changes you are going through."
"What..." He licked his lips, nervously. "What do you mean? I'm not changing.."
Xavier sighed. "Would be as so kind to remove your jacket?."
Warren shook his head fiercely. Okay, creepy guy looking to get all physical and this guy knows... ... Mutant hunters??? This was just a bit too much all at once. The teen stood up and crossed to the other side of the room.. just to be safe. "There's something you're not telling me."
"I understand. ...Logan?"
The other man complied to the unauthorized command silently. Warren's eyes widened as a single, metal claw pushed out between his knuckles with a sharp 'shrnk'. A million thoughts passed through his mind, but they thinned to nothing but a blank when the man lowered the claw onto his explosed arm and sliced it open. Warren's jaw slacked as the claw returned to its place in Logan's arm, but what was transfixing...were the impossible speeds the wounds, both the arm and the knuckle, were healing at. It was... incredible.
"Do you see now? My school is for mutants, just like you."
Warren pulled himself away from the sealed wound to the Professor, confused. "Did you say something?"
"Yes," he said... without moving his mouth. "I am also a mutant, gifted with a very advanced telepathic mind. My, associate, Logan, has an excelled healing factor." Logan nodded sternly. "And we would like to help you cope with your own mutation. Do you still want to leave your coat on? It must be very warm."
It felt like a dream. Warren bit his lip and, reluctantly, removed the long, cotton-woven coat. It was literally their turn for the wide eyes.
Like skin being bared, the moment seemed intimate as one of the snow white wings were revealed. It shook slightly, uncramping from its tight confinement and extended as Warren freed the other one, which did the same thing.
Xavier's expression was one of utter surprise, while Logan cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. It was silent for the moment before Logan stated dry, "And for the longest time, I wondered why it smelt like feathers when you walked in here."
Warren bowed his head in embarrassment. "They really aren't much, just a pain and a burden."
"Well, we can still help you, Warren. But, if I may be as so bold... Are you capable of flight?"
"...Yes. Yes, I can fly. But only for so far; my wings are still... growing, actually."
Xavier hmmed to himself. "That's not a problem. Warren, the Institute is a place for mutants to find refuge. We take everyone who wants to learn control and understanding."
Warren looked up at them then, bringing a hand up to rub against his nape. "Like I said, what you are offering sounds like a dream come true, but I think I'd rather stay here. It's nothing personal," he added hastily. "It sounds extraordinary, but I have another two years here.. and I don't want to move somewhere else in the middle of the school year."
Professor Xavier and Logan exchanged glances, exchanging thoughts as well. Another moment passed before they both turned back to the blonde. "If that is your decision, we respect it. But," he rolled towards Warren, fishing a small object out of his pocket, "if you ever change your mind, don't hesitate to call."
Warren excepted the business card and skimmed over it. The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. ...It.. sounds promising. "Thank you, Professor. Trust me, though. I will contact you, if I need to..."
With that settled, the meeting was over. The Dean was assured Warren would stay until the school year was over and they would discuss it again when summer vacation came about. However, before they parted, Logan pressed something into Warren's hand. "You're molting, bird boy."
Warren nearly fainted from cool hysteria at the sight of the innocent white feather, but caught the teasing smirk on the man's face just before he turned away.
Later, after Warren caught up with St. John and hauled him into their dorm, Warren could hardly stop talking, which was high unusual for the angel-winged teen. John found himself confused and amused, but finally found the opening he needed to slither himself into the one-sided conversation and close Warren's mouth. Now, the tanned blonde was able to piece the bits he understood together; what Warren was an incredulous look.
"You're serious? There's a school for mutants on the east coast?" John gave a low whistle. "Wow... but you gave it up to stay here?!" The exclaimation was heavily accented, totally normal when you upset the Australian. "Warren! There is a place where you don't have to hide those big clunkers and can be... /drooled/ over, man! You have the makings of a very sexy man and if you don't leave this school and go flaunt it wherever, I will drag you there, on foot, myself."
Warren groaned. "John~ny. Stop. You are over-reacting. First thing, I would like to finish this year before I go any place. Two, I really need to ask my parents about this. And three, you'd miss the flying and you know it."
"Well... Bugger." John pouted, now having a favorite past-time hanging in the air. "Okay, I would.. It's fun, flying and all. But Warren, you can't stay for my sake. I can always go visit you." "And who would you thrust your writting drafts to when you're desperate for an opinion?"
"I'll find a bloody victim, that's what! Warren, start thinking about yourself, you twit!"
Despite it all, Warren smiled and dispelled of his coat once more, hanging it up on the closet door. "Trust me... I just want to finish my year here, alright?"
John rolled his eyes and glared, but settled down on his bed and plopped back. "Okay... but if you aren't gone when senior year rolls around, I'll clip those wings for you and then we'll both be out of luck on flying."
Warren laughed. "You have nothing to fear then.."
That night, sleep came to only one of them. John, fast asleep, did not hear the restlessness of the person opposite him. Warren turned and twisted, his skin flaring with an uncomfortable heat. Tired, pleading eyes stared at the digital clock, the red numbers only adding to the pain. It was at 2:36 am when Warren flung the blankets off of him and staggered out to the bathroom down the hall, subconsciously thanking his lucky stars no one was around.
The lights automatically turned on when the door opened and Warren locked it before making his way over to the sinks. He didn't bother to look in the mirror at all as he turned on the faucet at full blast and soaked his face and hands. The icy water must have begun to do something, because the burning began to dwindle, even in the parts of the body that weren't bathed in the water. Had to do something right. But what.... OH MY GOD!
What he hadn't noticed before now came to light as he stared at his hands, now a dark, sky blue. But, if his hands had changed, then.... In the mirror was the reflection he was used to, except for the color disorientation and the frightened look in his eyes..
He wasn't going to wait until the school year to leave, that's for sure.
o.o Trust me when I say this isn't over yet, but the next part might be long in coming. St John still has his part to play, need to get Warren's blue butt over to Bayville, and get some groovin' on. Couples undecided, but what I'm really leaning for is WarrenxBobby. ^^;;; Who knows what else.
Personally, I think it lacks direction in written style and a bit blocky, but that's my opinion. I hate my writing style; never does justice to the idea... . And my back is killing me.
