I do, actually, own the X-Men from No, really. I'm a top stockholder!
Really! Suuuuurrrre.....anyways, a small note is forthcoming.

This fanfiction refuses to consider the episode canon. No way, nohow, except perhaps for more insight into the New Muties' personality. It has Lance as an X-Man!!! He's not supposed to do that, unless it's Halloween! AND HE PUSHES TODD! AND ACTS LIKE A GENERAL DICK! BADNESS!

is a bizarre dream sequence brought on by pizza and cookie-dough ice cream at 5 in the morning, as far as I am concerned.

Oh...and Warren Worthington III, aka the Angel, shall look like the Evo one...but his story is going to differ slightly. Oooookay? Oooookay.
Now for the fanfic.

Critical Mass

by Dark Matter

Chapter 3: School, How I Loathe Thee

Hey! Little boy! Up! Now!

The voice resounded through Todd Tolensky's dream world. Dammit, yo, and it was a nice dream too...he'd just hung Duncan Matthews by his underwear on the
flagpole, and he had been chatting up Max from Dark Angel, and doing a good job of it. Now, she's turned into Mystique and was yelling at him with a megaphone. She then proceeded to shine a flashlight at his eyes. Todd yelped in pain, and tried to shield his eyes...but failed.

The frog-like boy suddenly became aware that he was no longer dreaming, and the person on the other side of the room, who he could only see through the tiny slit he had allowed his eyes to open, was not Mystique but an impaitent-looking Lance. The flashlight had been his bedroom lamp, which Lance had turned on in an attempt to wake him up. Todd glared at Avalanche through half-open eyes. Light is bad, yo, croaked Toad drowsily.

So is missing breakfast, and forcing your leader to buy you one at McDonalds. C'mon, Toad-man, while we still have time, Lance replied. Toad nodded, still half-asleep, and motioned for Lance to leave. After a couple of minutes, Tolensky was dressed in his usual grungy outfit, his eyes still yellow from lack of sleep.

Pietro tapped his foot impaitently as Todd got into the car. the speedster inquired. Toad muttered something along the lines of ...go screw yourself, you hyperactive shit, and stumbled into the car. In minutes, he was snoring, his head resting on an uncomfortable Blob.
Tabitha giggled at the large boy's misfortune. Aww, that's ccuuuuttte! Pietro, lookit this! Pietro grinned evilly and whispered a rather disparaging comment in Boom-Boom's ear, making her shriek with laughter and playfully smack him at the same time. Speedy, you are sooo bad!
Fred blushed and glowered. Note to self: Never, ever sit next to Toad in the morning. Also, remember to put Cheese Whiz in Quicksilver's locker, the large boy thought.

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The X-Men were already cruising down the road in Scott's car...or rather, Kitty, Kurt, Rogue, and Scott were cruising. Scott sighed unhappily...once again, he'd had to wake up early, and once again, he'd had to bear the sight of the girl he cared about more than anything else in the world driving off with Duncan Matthews.

I wonder if her hair really is red, he thought wistfully. I wonder...what color her lips really are....how well she kisses...if she even really notices me....

If she really knows how much I care about her.

Scott shook his head. Now was not the time for this...he was going to crash if he kept this up. Kurt was looking at him in the searchingly sad way that Rogue had always described as makin ya wannah slahp im sillah an' hug im aht the sahme tahme.

Are you all vright, mein freund? From ze look on your face, you're eizzer deprezzed or eggztremely high. Vhich vould be mozt unuzual, nein? Kurt said with a smile. Scott looked at Kurt, then a grin broke over his face, and a wicked idea crept into his head. ..maaaaannnn.....thheerrrre'rrr exxxccepppptioooonnnssss, he slurred, in imitation of a stoner.

Nightcrawler practically leapt out of his seat at this. Mater Kryst!
The expression on the German boy's face cracked even Scott's self-imposed reverie. They all burt out laughing, and after a while, Wagner joined in. Afterwards, Kurt poked Rogue with a pouty expression. Liebchen, tell Zcott to ztop being zo cruel!

The goth grinned. Sorrah, bro, but it's national lahw thaht everyone has tah be excessively mean to blue elves who hahg th' bahthroom. With this she began poking Kurt, who let out an exaggerated sigh of self pity. Oh, zure, pick on heem cauze he iz blue. Zo original.
Shadowcat giggled. This is why I, like, love riding with you guys. It gets me so ready for...

The mental inztitute? Kurt quipped with a wide smile. Kitty laughed and smacked him playfully. Like, no! You're an evil little elf, you know that?
Kurt beamed. Evil...LIKE A FOX!!!

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Sabretooth, along with an Acura NSX he'd thanks to Mags and his along with a still-shaking Judas Worthington, arrived
at the broken-down boarding house the Brotherhood all shared. Creed snarled as he punched in the number to Magneto's hotel on his cell phone. Why wasn't Lensherr answering, goddamnit? This was urgent as all hell. It wasn't every day a new mutant dropped right into the Brotherhood's collective lap, after all. Mystique had had to bust her ass just getting the original four in.

Judas, meanwhile, was still in shock. From what Victor had told him, he was something more than human. He was a mutant, and the horrible flashing vision and the slow-moving time were parts of his genetic code, things that made him better than normal, the next evolution upwards in humanity...as well as a freak, a monster, and a dozen other worse names. He was glad the people at school hadn't known...he would've been tormented even more than he already was. It was enough being a and a . He didn't need to be a demon, too.

His heart screamed within him, adding to the turmoil. His grandparents were dead. His family, as far as he was concerned, was dead. Killed in a horrible, vicious moment. He would never see them again, never feel their embrace, never hear their kind voices. They were but memories, like ashes in the fall.

Dead.

His tremulous voice broke the silence. Ah....Mr. Creed? he said timidly.
Call me Victor, kid. I told you that already.
Victor...is there any food...or..a blanket? I haven't had any food since yesterday. And I'm cold.

Creed found a box of Cap'n Crunch Pietro had left on the table and tossed it to the boy, then handed him a blanket from Mystique's old chair. Worthington managed a smile. M-most appreciated.
Sabretooth inwardly chuckled. Mags was right about the Worthingtons...even in the midst of a crisis, they were polite and pragmatic.

Now, if only he could reach the man to tell him how right he was...

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At Bayville High School, there were several certainties.

One was that no matter who you were, what you did, or where you lived, you were always given a first period all the way across the school from the parking lot. Another was that Principal Kelly would always make intercom announcements in 6th, just before the bell rang.

Finally, it was a law of nature that whenever Lance Alvers arrived at the place, Scott Summers and his crew would be in accompaniment. The good thing to this was the chance to see Kitty Pryde, who had to be nicest, funniest, and most damned attractive freshman in the history of the WORLD.

The bad thing was a preppy tight-ass who wore sunglasses all the fucking time.
Of course, Lance knew why this was, but it still irked him. Summers in general was good at doing that.

Avalanche took a deep breath. I will talk to Kitty. Kitty is the only one there. I will ignore the presence of that laser-eyed prick. I will ignore Pietro and his latest Way To Fuck Up Evan Daniels' Day. I will talk to KITTY. No one else.

He strode over. Like a bunch of very mismatched bodyguards, the Brotherhood followed him.
Uh....hey, Kit-Kat, said Lance with a grin. Shadowcat turned quickly, surprised, then attempted a smile. Oh! Like, hi, Lance! Uhm...how's things?

Oh God, oh God, oh God...must remain calm. Play hard to get.
But...but he's...reeeeeaaaallllly cute....but he's a Brotherhood member, and a jerk, and he trashed my school....but he's ccuuuuuuute! And nice, when you get to know him....daaaammmmnnnniiiiittttttt......

Nothin' much...Toad sorta missed breakfast again, so I had to use my money to pay for his breakfast....and he practically fell asleep in it, said Lance with a small cuckle. Kitty grinned and giggled. Aww, that's like, too bad.

Lance smiled and blushed slightly. He was making progress...if only...

Tap, tap, tap.

And there it was. You couldn't just ignore the bastard. It didn't feel right. Rather, it made everything more awkward than it already was.

Shadowcat's expression quickly shifted. Oh....uhm, I'll see you in Chemistry, Lance managed a half-smile. 'K....see ya. He then turned to face Scott Summers. Both boys stared at each other, like in some Old West duel. Scott practically expected Lance to shout

hissed Avalanche.
said Scott curtly. Nice to see you.

There was the sound of skateboard bearings, and Pietro let out an evil snicker. He was off like a shot. The sound abruptly ceased, becoming a volley of angry curses and an on the pavement. Pietro's musical laugh accompanied as a pissed-off Spyke pulled himself from the pavement, swinging ineffectively at a grinning Quicksilver.

So, just here to watch your friends start shit, Lance? said Scott with a nasty, cynical smile. Don't have the balls to participate? Inwardly Cyclops winced. He didn't like Lance, but imposing one's nasty mood on others was a no-no, deserving or not. After all, it's not Lance's fault you can't see like a normal person, nor is it his fault Jean doesn't want a freak. Much as you'd like it to be...

Avalanche narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. You can ram it up your ass, Summers, since you seem to like that, he snarled in a cold voice. I came here to talk to Kitty. Not to banter with you like one of your X-Fags. Which was the absolute fucking truth. He had no time or paitence for Summers today. One more comment, and gloved fist met those stupid shades and sent them flying.

DAMNIT, MAXIMOFF, FIGHT LIKE A FUCKING MAN! yelled Evan. He was beyond pissed. He wasn't going to put up with this stupid bullshit anymore. No, no, and no. Today that little goddamn rich-ass egomaniac went down. He didn't care if Principal Kelly and the entire faculty saw the whole damn thing. He was going to kick Pietro's ass to high heaven, and god help anyone who tried to stop him.

Quicksilver grinned as he leapt back from Evan's attack. In your case, numbnuts, I'll make an exception to the general rule. He swiftly backpedaled from the next attack. C'mon, Daniels, you want to take me down? Then stop trying to hit me and HIT ME, thought Pietro with grim humor. There it was...the blind rage, the lashing out at someone who smashed open his little facade where he mattered, and nothing else. Where he didn't have to care.

Pietro hated that. In this world, no one had the right just to not care. That was why he went as fast as he did. Watching his mother die had taught him that...that life was a race to do, see, think....to live as much as you could. Evan was the patent opposite...out of touch with reality, utterly and completely.

It was people like that that had killed his mother, and nearly crushed his father's dream. It was people like that Quicksilver loathed. Daniels might not know it, but there was a definite method to Pietro's madness. His thoughts were interrupted as he saw the chance to dump Spyke headfirst into a Dumpster. Which, of course, was what he did.

Fred looked to Toad and shrugged. I gotta get to first, Todd-man. Catch ya later? Toad nodded. See ya, Freddy. Fred followed the retreating form of Tabitha, who had simply given a harsh glare to Rogue, a sad look to Kurt, and then left.

The youngest Brotherhood member looked at Kurt Wagner, who seemed quite put off by the whole display. Although everyone assumed Todd wanted to bash the furry one's face in after the episode at the mansion, Toad actually blamed that on their psychopath of a bald leader. Nightcrawler had just been an irritant.

Yet, over the many times he had fought and been around Kurt, he had felt a certain similarity to the German boy. Sure, he didn't have a weird accent, but he did talk funny, being from Chicago's streets. What most struck Tolensky about Wagner was that he, like Todd, was almost instantly labeled an untouchable freak. They dealt with it in similar ways, although Toad had a more acid and dirty wit than Kurt.

Word, said Todd, leaning against the Jeep. Kurt looked surprised, then grinned. Vord. Zome crazy zhit, nein? he said in a low voice, indicating the newly born shouting match between Scott and Lance, and the bloody brawl between Quicksilver and Spyke. Todd nodded, then smirked. Least they ain't goin' at it afterwards, yo, said the freshman. Kurt drew back in surprise, but chuckled. Ja, that is something to be thankful for. The German boy checked his holo-watch. Acht....I've been vatching thiz entertainment for too long. Zee ya, Todd, he said with a wave. Tolensky nodded with a friendly smile, then walked off towards his own class....

(Author's note: No, this is not Todd/Kurt slash. There won't be any, either.)

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Bishop to e7. Check, Charles, came the rich Polish voice of Erik Lensherr. The two men sat before a glass chess set, two steaming cups of hot cider in front of them. Magneto sat in a comfortable recliner in Xavier's study, while the Professor, of course, was in a wheelchair.

Ah....clever. But not clever enough. King to a4. Charles sipped the cider as he mover the glass piece. Lensherr nodded appreciatively, and moved his queen forward, which he quickly regretted, as Xavier took it in an easy move of his rook.

You were always the better one at chess, Charles. Are you sure you're not cheating? said Magneto with a knowing grin, tapping the side of his head.
Charles shook his head. No, my friend, I don't work like that. Unless it's against Logan. He's far too clever for his own good.

Magnus chuckled lightly, but then his expression wrinkled into concern.
You certainly are searching around in here, chess moves or no, Charles. Whatever are you looking for?

Answers, my friend. And maybe...

said Erik with a wry grin. Knight to d8.

Xavier steepled his fingers. It just interests me, Erik....Asteroid M wasn't really part of any plans, was it? You...

...wouldn't do that, normally. It irked me that I had to, Charles. The weeding out of mutants from the fold is completely contrary to my vision. But it was the only was to make the test seem realistic. Lensherr took a draught of cider.

Xavier inquired. Magneto nodded. The equipment on Asteroid M was not entirely of my design...no, most of it was given to me by a certain...benefactor.

Whom you're not at liberty to describe? said Charles with slight srcasm. Lensherr chuckled once more. You make it sound so cliché, Charles. Pawn to g2...

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Todd spared another glance to the left as Ms. Wooten, the World History teacher, continued droning on. In his ears, barely visible headphones played Prodigy's
Where would I be without music, yo? Todd thought, resting his tired head on a wide-fingered hand. Or without her....

He turned the next glance into more of a wistful look. Two seats behind him, in the next rows sat the figure of one Rahne Sinclair. She studied quite dutifully, her green eyes quietly scanning the work. To most students, the oddly-dressing Scottish girl wouldn't seem so incredibly attractive.

To Todd, she was beautiful. He loved her Celtic laugh, her quirky sense of humor, her red-brown hair drawn up into two small ponytails, and the unusually tight-fitting jeans she wore....shit, he loved her, plain and simple.

But....he looked at himself. Long, splayed fingers that looked like a frog's. A wide, equally amphibian face. Skinny. Short. Creepy. Ugly as all hell...
these were the words that came to his mind. How could she ever be interested in me, yo?

He shook himself from the reverie. There were still three minutes left. This was torment. He had to do something....
Pulling a rubber ball he'd found outside, on the track field, he decided to use what he'd been learning in math to help relieve the godawful boredom. Flinging it at the clock, he watched it mak its bouncing trajectory about the room. Papers and lesson plans flooded onto the floor. A vase of flowers toppled. The computer promptly froze, though the ball had never touched it. Finally, the ball flew up and smacked the teacher in the forehead. There was a general roar of approval from the class.

Ms. Wooten turned an extremely odd shade of purple. MR. TOLENSKY! YOU WILL BE SEEING PRINCIPAL KELLY FOR LUNCH! AND LET ME TELL YOU THAT IN ALL MY YEARS....

Her ranting was lost on the class. They were too joyous at the bell's cheerful ring.
Joel, a fellow punk fan and friend of Todd's, gave Toad a grinning high-five. That was classic, man. Tolensky grinned. Thanks, yo.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rahne pass...and she was smiling.

Not caring that the period after next he would have to go to detention, and no doubt see Summers and Daniels, not caring that his next period was Biology and they were dissecting frogs, not caring that most of the other girls were glaring at him. Todd Tolensky strode out from class with his chest puffed like the proud frog he was.

She smiled. At me, yo...

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Warren K. Worthington III looked out from the tower where he and his father dwelt. His father was in the back room, tending to...what was it, the fifth woman this week? At that rate, Warren was surprised his father hadn't had more kids already...

The news still played in his ears. His grandparents' house was gone. They were dead. Judas was nowhere to be found, but Warren was sure he was dead.

Warren did love his brother. Thoguh they rarely saw each other now, and Judas had become increasingly jealous of the perpetually attractive Warren, they were still good friends. Blood was thicker than water...right?

He'd never know, now. Judas was gone, as were Nana and Grampa, burned away in a horrible explosion. Tears pricked Warren's eyes. He forced himself not to cry.

Add this to the fact that he had recently discovered, and was desparately trying to keep secret, the wings that were growing out of his back. He was sure that was what they were now.

Tumors didn't generally have feathers.

The third of his name walked to his room, where he looked at the portrait on his desk. Judas, his father, Warren, Nana, Grampa, and Mom were all there.

Judas and his twin were no more than 6, and each had their arm around the other, and were smiling broadly, innocently.

This is all your fault, Father...

He couldn't stop them anymore. Throwing himself onto his bed, Warren Worthington III cried deeply into his pillow.

God damn you, Father. God fucking damn you.

Author's Notes: I took rather long writing that...but I wanted to get a full chapter up this time. As always, read and review. I live for reviews! Reviews feed writers! No reviews= lazy writer. Nuff said.