"To be..."
Chapter one
[ A f r a i d ]

He looked around, his more than obvious nervousness was beginning to float all around him in a strange cloud of stage fright. He had never gotten stage fright before, but then again, this wasn't like before anyway.

It was the first time he played on an empty stomach.

A three-day-old empty stomach.

Thoughts of every possible event that would probably get him to faint on stage played in his head, the most popular one involving him fainting from hunger. Ideas that just lingered, taunting him. Teasing him. Plaguing him.

Or perhaps, warning him not to go up there. Public humiliation was never good, even if you didn't have anyone around to tell you about it later.

He slapped his hand against his forehead, mentally swearing at himself for being such a coward. Cowardice and pride were two things that he couldn't afford at the moment. Public humiliation was a small thing to pay for a warm meal.

"Evening people..."

It was about to start. His fingers were cold in anticipation, sweat covering his palms in a slimy film. He wiped it against his pants, sweaty palms don't help panicky musicians, he thought.

"I normally don't come up here and introduce the one who'll be performing tonight." Of course he didn't. They almost always had big names. And a very large fanbase.

All I had was one guitar and very sweaty hands.

"...But now we've got someone new for you tonight. Everyone please welcome a very talented musician, Damon!" The spotlight had gone on and the entire place was solely illuminated with dimmer lights set on low, casting an eerie glow that limited his already poor vision.

He stood there for several seconds, not moving. He probably wouldn't have continued moving if only his stomach hadn't grumbled to him. He adjusted his glasses and took a tentative step up the stairs...

And started his gig.

+++

"Like, you think he's any good? Sure he's cute and all but..." Kitty asked everyone else as she took a sip from a rootbeer float, her eyes more focused on Damon's old, faded clothes than anything else. Apparently, people weren't all too appreciative of the fact that he was underage. A huge turnoff for a lot of the bar's patrons, even the X-Men.

"He seems kinda young." Rogue commented, her eyes seeming a little more sleepy than usual. She was just probably dragged along for the trip. She wasn't too in going to these kind of places but since everyone went...

"Uhmm... Hi. It's my first time here so I hope you don't mind if I play my own stuff. This first song is called..." He paused, not knowing what song to sing for them. He wanted to make them know just how good he is and just what he was feeling. He scanned his brain for a song... And found it hidden behind shards of broken glass.

"... This song is called Home." His thin fingers strummed his guitar and he began to play the intro of the song.

The song played sweetly, almost with a strange rockish, blues-like feel. Yet somewhere within the music, a tone of pain was heard and the sound was beginning to fill the room. It wasn't like a song that someone that looked like that would compose... No, he was far too young to feel like that and to make music that good...

But everyone knew that this was more than music. This was someone's life.

And he sang. He sang a song he wrote for no one else but him.

And he knew that everyone could feel his pain. His broken glass that stabbed through his heart.

Especially the teenagers that sat to his right.

"Oh my God..." Kitty muttered to herself, her eyes now completely focused on the boys painfully twisted facial expression. His eyes were downcast, looking at the strings of his guitar as he sang in a voice that was on the verge of crying. Every syllable he spoke played forever in their ears, all his anger and frustration becoming a part of theirs.

The song played on, the room eerily quiet except for the sound of his guitar and his hurt voice. No one even bothered to ask a waiter for any drinks. No one even bothered to say anything about his singing.

But he didn't know that they weren't in silence because they didn't care.

It was awe. But he didn't know that. All he knew was that the audience wasn't giving him any response.

The song ended, the crowd stood silent as he watched everyone's eyes.

Then he weakly uttered into the microphone.

"I'm sorry."

Then he ran out, his guitar in tow and the seat he was using toppling to the ground.

+++

He ran out the cafe and into an alley, constantly wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He didn't even care about the money. He didn't care about it anymore. He couldn't go back home because he knew that his parents might find out about his, his thing!

What am I playing for? For money to buy food that wouldn't last me a day? Was I just going to play on the streets for the rest of my life to people who don't understand? He was screaming at himself inside and he wanted to end his pathetic existence in a world that he knew would not understand what was going on with him.

A beer bottle lay on the ground beside a Dumpster, calling out to him...

He picked it up, staring at his reflection dreamily for the last time.

And brought the bottle down against the side of the Dumpster, smashing one end and sending shards of glass flying everywhere.

He traced the sharp edge of the glass along his wrist, a small thin line of red slowly becoming visible.

And then someone yellng out his name.

+++

"Damon!" The red-haired Rogue yelled into the alley, startling the boy who was hunched over his wrist, blood dripping quickly from the very visible cut.

The boy took a step backwards, a trail of blood follwing him as his back pressed against the cold brick wall.

Back off... He thought to himself, the girl who was coming closer to him not realizing what she could get herself into.

"Please... Don't come any closer." He said, his voice as assertive as he could in his choked up voice.

But his eyes spoke everything. He wanted her to come closer.

He wanted someone to help him. He just didn't know how to call out to them.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." Rogue knew what was going on and she was scared about what Damon might do if she kept on coming closer. He might take his life right now, end things faster than just by cutting your wrist open. But she knew things weren't going to become better if she didn't.

She had to take the risk. If it meant saving the life of a person like Damon, she was going to take every single risk.

Back off...

...Back off...

...Back off...

Then more of her friends appeared behind her another red-headed girl comign closer as well. His heart was beating faster and with every beat, more blood dripped to the cold cement floor.

"I said..." He pointed his nonbleeding arm at her, his hand opened wide...

And flames began to spray everywhere.

"What the?!" Rogue cried out as she avoided the blast of flame that was jetting out of his hand. Jean immediately created a barrier to prevent the flames from totally toasting everyone.

But Rogue was already too far away to protect.

She was on her own.

"Please, stop! I'm here to help!" She tried to reach through to him but the boy was too scared, too crazy from fear. She glanced at his left arm and saw that he was losing blood at a fearsome rate. She also knew that the only way he was going to be okay after this was if she took his power from him.

She began to run towards him, braving the flames that were poised to incinerate her.

"Why? Why won't you people just let me die?" Damon yelled just before he closed his eyes, letting flames burst from the air all around him. One of the explosions burst right to the side of Rogue, flinging her against the wall with startling force. She thought she felt one of her ribs crack from the impact but that was one thing that wouldn't stop her from getting to Damon. She ran again, the explosions bursting all around her, the temperature rising every second to almost unbearable temperatures.

She jumped, an ungloved hand reaching out to touch Damon's neck.

And then he blacked out, the last thing he remembered was the welcome warmth that had begun to surround him seconds after unleashing his power. He fell, a faint smile gracing his cold, purple lips.

"Rogue! Are you okay?" Jean asked, the boys taking care of Damon as he lay on the floor, limp as a rag doll. Rogue simply sat there, quiet, her fingers tracing his hair as she stared at him silently.

"Rogue?" Jean repeated, her face worried for whatever it was that Rogue may have found out by touching him.

"Damon..." She finally spoke as Kurt tied his handkerchief around Damon's small wrist, her eyes still focused on the silent, smiling boy that they were carrying.

"We better get him to the institute soon. We'll be able to take care of him there." Scott suggested, hoisting the unconscious body to their convertible, making sure that no one was around to witness the scenario Damon had created. Luckily the streets were empty so they asked Kurt to port back to the Institute to ask the professor for help. In a second, they were gone in a puff of smoke, everyone asking each other if they thought that Damon was going to be fine.

All the while Jean was thinking what it was that Rogue may have felt. You didn't need telepathic powers to see that whatever it was, it was something that you would never want to see.

They all sat down and began to drive back home, Jean sitting in the back beside Rogue, hoping that she would tell him what it was that she saw.

Rogue carried with her Damon's guitar, her fingers dreamily sliding on the strings.

But it wasn't just the guitar that she was carrying with her now. No, another piece of Damon was with her... And it wasn't something she could give back.

The trip continued on in silence, the only sound coming from the gentle hum of the car's engine.

+++

Nightcrawler had greeted them at the gate, telling all of them that he was at the clinic and that the professor said that he would be fine with rest. Even so, they were still anxious to see Damon so they continued on to the clinic where they knew he lay, unconscious.

Except for Rogue. In fact, that was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Guys." They stopped dead in their tracks, everyone turning around to hear what she had to say.

"Remember, back at Redd Sun? How sad he looked when he was singin'?"

"Ja." Nightcrawler answered. "It vas as if... As if he vanted to run away from ze stage."

"Yeah... But when I touched him..." Rogue's eyes then began to fill with tears, some of them trailing down her face, her tears turning black as her mascara would run down along with them.

"...He's so afraid... So very afraid..." They thought as much, they knew that the moment he was sitting on the stage, his heart playing in his music.

"I wish I never saw any of it... Dear God, I wish I never saw any of it..."

+++

In an alleyway somewhere in Bayville, a broken bottle lay silently in a puddle of red...

End...?

Authors notes: Just for the record, I think that this sample went a little too long. Maybe I'll turn it into a sort of fiction series with Damon as a new character... Oh, and many many thanks to Nightbloom for inspiring me with her writing! (To those who don't know who Nightbloom may be, she is the one true X-Men:Evolution slash fanfiction Deity! Long live her Inner Conflicts series!)

To everyone who happens to be a fan of X-Men:Evolution and slash fiction, I'm pleased to announce that the very first slash-friendly X-Men:Evolution RPG is on it's way! All I have to do is work on the finishing touches and I'll release it to the public!

And if any of you out there happen to be fans of Staind, you might have guessed what that song was. Home -Unplugged- has got to be the most painful song I will ever hear... Aaron Lewis is Gloom Rock God! If you feel like getting yourself depressed and broody and all teenage angsty, go and do yourself a favor: Download Home -Unplugged-! Or even better, get the album! NO, change that, get ALL their albums! It's on their second CD, Dysfunctional if you were wondering. Everyone deserves to feel a little suicidal now and then. It's good for the soul.