Disclaimer!!! X-Men Evolution belongs to Marvel Comics and the Kids WB. I do not own it in any way shape or form, nor do I intend to make any money off of this thing. It's for everyone's enjoyment (at least I hope ;) and that's all. The characters belong to their respective creators, and are used with permission. Yay! Fun! Enjoy! Okay, let's see... if you are in the fic, please tell me if I'm portraying your character correctly, if there's any plot suggestions (can't guarantee I'll use them, but I'll consider everything), or any complaints or suggestions at all. Okay, that's all, I'm done, have fun. :) Also... if you're in this fic and you're reading, -please review-. I cannot stress this enough. I need your opinions and thoughts if you want me to continue this! n_n
Jeez, guys, I'm sorry this is so late! I've had a hell of a time trying to find time to write, and then when I did, it was almost impossible to say what I wanted to. It took my mom not letting me on the computer to get me to drag out the typewriter and write...hee. Well, here it is. Enjoy!









Darien thought that lunchtime would never come. After the evil militant feminist, he had a fairly benign, but completely deaf old man attempting to teach a crowd of unruly teachers geometry. In self-defense, Darien had zoned out and fallen into a sleepy trance, staring out the window and watching a sparrow shoring up a nest on the window. It twittered softly, attending to its children with almost slavish care.

"Psst," someone said, poking him in the back with a pencil.

Darien didn't bother to turn around. He continued to stare out the window, ignoring the prods, which grew more and more insistent.

"Hey," the student whispered, "Hey, freak."

Now it was definitely the best thing to do, ignore it. Just ignore it, watch the birds in the window.

"Hey, freak, why are you in this school? We've only got normal people here."

Darien stared resolutely at the birds. The mother sparrow, sensing some unseen danger, took wing loudly, fluttering around her nest protectively.

"Why bother coming here, freak? Are you trying to fit in? Little freak. How sad." The pencil jabbed him in the back again, this time with the point. He felt the lead snap against his ski jacket, and felt a small pang of fear mixed with anger.

He pressed his lips together, trying his hardest to focus on something else, other than the persistent whispering and... "Mr. Sanders?" the teacher asked, finally noticing the disturbance.

"Yes?" Darien's tormenter asked innocently.

"Are you bothering Mr. Tyrall?"

"No, Mr. Maxwell."

"Mr. Tyrall, is he bothering you?"

Darien couldn't answer, his mouth was frozen shut, in its thin line, compressed against any sort of emotion or words. The teacher looked at him expectantly for several seconds and, seeing that there was still no response, returned to the lesson, muttering something inaudible. The boy sitting behind Darien went back to whispering. "That's a good thing you shut your fucking mouth, freak, or I'd've killed you after school. We don't like freaks here."

He hunched his shoulders forward, and looked down at his sheet of paper, which had various lines and segments drawn on it.

The bell rang and the entire room swarmed in a mass exodus towards the door. Darien moved slowly while he packed up his books, and was able to get a decent look at Sanders. He was of average height but rather scrawny looking, like his chest stuck out while his stomach sank inwards. He wore a Marilyn Manson t-shirt, stringy pale brown hair; skin that looked as though someone had run a cheese grater over it repeatedly, and huge black pants that covered his feet.

I get it, he thought to himself, you're the sort everyone picks on. I'm just easy prey.

Surprisingly, Darien didn't feel bitter, or even extremely angry. He rather pitied Sanders. As soon as he was out in the hallway and heading for the cafeteria, he almost forgot about the incident. "Hey!" someone called, and for a moment, he thought it was cheese-face-boy, but no - feminine voice, though it was certainly loud and strident. "Darien! Wait up!"

Ali. He nodded at her, relaxing a bit. He hadn't realized that his muscles had been tensed. "...Hi," he said hesitantly.

"Ugh, I hate school already," she grumbled, "Too bad you aren't in any of my classes." She was a junior, he remembered. He couldn't have agreed more with the first statement, however. He missed the freedom of being able to go where he wanted when he wanted, the freedom to escape from a problem if it presented itself... The freedom to starve on the street? Death was fascinating, but at the moment, he preferred to hold onto life as tightly as possible.

"Come on, I'll walk with you," she said, and smiled.

X

Cam D'Amore stood in line with the rest of the kids, waiting for his turn to buy a lunch. Rooting around in his pocket for money, he shuffled up in the line of students. They moved automatically, shoved like sardines in the too-small cafeteria. The lunch ladies were a surly looking bunch, and he sighed - was there no staff member in this school who was -normal-?! One woman, who must have been about four feet tall and just as wide, gave him a sour look. She had a hair net tightly binding the few wisps of dark hair to her head, which could have been a reason for her angry face.

"Whaddaya want?" she growled, in a surprisingly deep voice. In fact, her voice was deeper than Cam's was. He decided not to make any sudden moves - he did -not- want this ScaryWoman mad at him.

"Pizza, please," he said, not wanting to tempt fate by buying one of the "home cooked" meals that CPHS offered. The pizza came from Papa John's and was most likely safe to eat. As the woman put the plate down on his tray, Cam eyed the food some of the other students had on their plates - the unlucky ones who didn't have enough money for pizza.

It was a mishmash of green and orange, a revolting color combination. He recoiled as the smell wafted to his nose, a piquant bouquet of garbage and vomit and some sort of sweet rancid odor that he couldn't identify... "I think it's carrots and string beans," the girl next to him said mournfully, "But that's only a guess."

"Urgh," Cam said.

"Yeah," the kid said sadly, "But at least you don't have to eat it."

"True," Cam agreed. He had one extra dollar left, not enough for pizza, but... "Here. Buy yourself some potato chips or something."

"Hey, thanks!" she said, smiling. "I forgot my lunch money -once- and look what happens - this is great." She pushed the tray back at the lunch lady. "Don't worry, I'll definitely pay you back tomorrow."

Cam shrugged. "Don't worry about it. They give us pocket money at the Institute."

"Oh, you're one of those new kids," the girl said, glancing at him more curiously, "I'm Blaire." She winced slightly as she said her name, but brightened. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm Cam," he said.

"Ah - there's my friends," she said, nodding her head at a group of kids starting to sit down at one of the tables, "Do you want to sit with us?"

He thought about it - sit with kids he knew, or introduce himself to a bunch of people who looked rather preppy... Nah. "I think I'm going to sit with the rest of the kids from the Institute - you know, birds of a feather, stick together?" he said dryly.

"That's okay," Blaire said, "But if you change your mind, I'm sure we can find you a seat!"

"...Thanks." Can kicked himself at his sudden attack of shyness, but headed over to where the familiar faces smiled. Coward, a treacherous voice whispered. He winced and sat down next to Darien and Rafe.

"Hey, Cam, who was that girl you were talking to?" Joey asked, raising his eyebrows with a grin.

"She said her name was Blaire."

Rafe grinned and nudged Cam in the ribs. "It seems as though you find one normal person in this school."

"Yeah," he said, after a moment, not even bothering to correct the French boy's grammar mistake, and grinned, "Yeah, it does."

X

"Pay -attention-, people!" Rán demanded, watching the students critically. They fidgeted uncomfortably in their casual uniforms, close-fitting gray t-shirts and black pants that allowed them to move easily, and black sneakers. No fancy spandex for us, Joey thought, with relief. There's no way in hell I'm wearing spandex. Luckily, the leaders of the Institute had no such plans in mind, "Especially not when you're -teenagers-," Mark had said cheerfully.

He turned a casual eye on Jenna Sintor, who was standing at attention, in a stiff, almost military posture. Her eyes were focused on Rán, watching her every move and ready to respond to orders. Then he looked at the rest of the Institute kids, and had to bite back snickers at what he saw. Nikki was off to the side, examining an interesting flower; Cam was trying to explain to Rafe something dealing with physics (not very successfully, from his frustrated voice), and Darien looked ghostly, half-there. Lee Nelson was listening to her headphones and dancing spastically, and Ali stood near Darien, attempting to get him solid again.

Joey could see why Rán was so upset. The woman simply was not cut out to deal with children, and she waved her arms frantically, trying to get their respective gazes focused upon her. "Right," she said, "Roll call. To get into practice, I want you to answer with your codename."

"This is ridiculous," Ali muttered, "What does she think we are, superheroes?"

"At least you got to pick -your- name," Lee whispered back.

"Roller!" Jenna said, giving them a warning look.

"Variant," Rafe said, attempting to hide a smirk.

"…Wraith…" Darien's voice could barely be heard.

Joey said, "Tick-tock."

"Void, ready and at attention, Marm!" Nikki said smartly.

"Demon. I'm Demon," Ali said, rolling her eyes. "But this is -so- childish." She folded her arms over her chest and waited.

"Poltergeist," Cam said. He wasn't sure exactly if the name was 'superhero' worthy, but it certainly fit him. As if to prove his point, a perfectly sound tree branch crackled and fell onto the ground with a loud crash. Everyone jumped, and someone laughed. He sighed.

"Torrent," Lee said, glaring at the other students, "And if anyone makes a 'Bring it On' comment, I will personally make sure their death is slow and painful."

"That was 'Torrance,' I think," Nikki said helpfully.

"You know what I meant."

"This isn't a boot camp," Rán continued, "You shouldn't see me as a drill sergeant. I am here to train you, help you recognize your full potential--"

"Maybe she shouldn't act like one, then," Ali muttered.

"Shh," Rafe cautioned, "She doesn't look very cheerful."

"Would you two be quiet?" Jenna asked.

"Quiet!" Ran snapped, and counted the number of times she'd been forced to say it, but lost count somewhere around fifty-three. -Kids-. "This is not a joke. The control you have over yourself could be the difference between life and death. I will help you develop your abilities to the fullest. Now, I want you to try as hard as you can to focus your power on something - I will tell you when to stop."

Joey snorted softly - he had an idea that amused him quite strongly. In the back of his head, the part of his brain that controlled his mutation stirred. He was never sure exactly how it worked, only that things -stopped-. Time stopped. A slightly impish grin on his face, he focused on Rán and stopped her, mid-bark.

The woman was a comical sight, mouth open, brows drawn down, hand raised. The other students giggled nervously but edged away from her. The strain of keeping her frozen was starting to knot his intestines, and Joey released his hold on her timeline, feeling a little dizzy. Instantly, she moved back into animation, snarling at him. "You! Jacobson! It was -you-, wasn't it? If you -ever- pull a stunt like that again…"

"Yes ma'am."

"Sit over there by that tree. You're out of the practice. The rest of you - let this be an example! Now - try it -without- using your powers on me."

X

Rafe attempted to find a suitable focus… not Rán. That would be tantamount to committing suicide. He wouldn't try anything on the other Institute students… that just would not be the right thing to do. With a smile, he noticed a small puddle of water, and sat down on the wet grass next to it. Concentrate. He drew at the heat he felt inside it, drawing it up towards him.

That was good, warmth wanted to rise up, move up towards the sky. It floated towards him as he held his hand out, a tingling heat spreading through his fingers. There was a gradual crackling noise, and when he looked down, the puddle had become a smooth pool of ice. He could see his face reflected in it, and looked to Rán for approval. He was surprised and a little hurt when she frowned and shook her head.

Lee was nearby, still listening to her headphones. She hadn't heard any of the pep talk, and looked startled and angry when Rán ripped them away from her head. "Hey! Don't do that! You could ruin my Social Distortion CD!" Grumbling to herself, Lee glared at Rán while muttering at Rafe, "I don't know how she expects me to do anything now - I'm too fucking annoyed."

Ali, without any sort of delicate precision, was setting patches of grass on fire, beaming as they erupted into plumes of golden-red. Despite the aesthetics of the show, her mind was not on it - Rafe could tell she was thinking of something else. The lackluster effort caught Rán's attention. "If you are going to daydream, you might as well go back to that slum in Edmonton. Nikki - no! Stop!" The unfortunate girl had opened her portal near the spot where Rán had rested her favorite leather jacket. The miniature black hole had sucked the garment through to whatever dimension lost clothing filled.

Lee, speaking sardonically, exclaimed, "It must be keeping all of my lost socks company." A hoarse chuckle, sounding a bit surprised at itself, could be heard from what was apparently thin air. Darien, watching the scene invisibly, was rather shocked to find himself laughing at the absurdity of the statement and the whole situation.

Cam stood off to the side, feeling rather awkward. Even if they weren't going about it correctly, at least the others were getting results... He felt rather useless, out of place, and rather stupid. Sighting, Cam turned away from the group. "Hey!" someone said brightly.

"Eh?"

"Don't feel bad," Nikki said with a smile, "You'll get the hang of it eventually!"

"Uh, thanks..." Cam wasn't sure how to tell her that he was almost as frightened of 'getting the hang of it' as he was of spending the rest of his life as The Human Jinx.

Jenna Sintor, meanwhile, was ignoring the rest of the students' antics. She looked at her arms, at her legs, she licked her lips. The hardest thing... she decided that, even if it left her sick and dizzy, she'd give it a try. Gradually, almost bone by bone, she exchanged calcium with metal, blood with gasoline, skin with a thin coating of steel and paint, intestines with gears and pistons, human shape with that of a machine, an old motorcycle.

Some days she could manage the transformation without any side effects, but sometimes it left her with the taste of gasoline in her mouth, or a horrid feeling in her bones, as though they were stretching the wrong way. In the strange, almost dreamy awareness that came with her new form, she could hear the gasps of the students and could see the thin smile of Rán's face.

"Good," she said, and then turned on the rest. "None of you were trying - that is -not- good enough! If you are going to practice like -this-, you are going to be killed the moment a gang of mutant haters gets their hands on you. Try again, and I want to see some -effort- this time."

X

"Mark?" Cam said.

"Yeah."

"Why is Rán always in such a nasty mood?"

Mark smiled dryly. "She's a really nice person... once you... look past the heinous bitchiness..."

"Sure," Cam said doubtfully. "Seriously, though, I think she hates us. She was looking at Nikki like she wanted to kill her."

"I could say, 'never judge a person until you've walked a mile in their shoes,'" Mark said, "But that's a cliché and Rán's shoes are pinchy. So... Just remember that you don't know her, really, and she's been through a lot. I'm not making excuses, but she really is a good person at heart, I think. Does that answer your question?"

"Sort of," Cam said, "Thank you."

"Any time, kid."

X

Bed springs squeaked.

"Does it ever get to you sometimes?"

"Does what?"

"Everything. The injustice of the world. Lies. Unfairness. Evil."

"No."

"You're a liar. What's your fucking secret?"

"I dunno. I just don't think about it."

"When I was little, I wanted to be a superhero."

"That's it. No more espresso chip ice cream for you. It makes you glooomy."

"That is not going to distract me."

"What if I kiss you right here...?"

"Cheater."

"-Winner.-"

"Bastard."

"Maybe."

Bed springs squeaked.

X

Darien woke up at two oh seven in the morning, and looked around the room reflexively. Joey was asleep, small noises popping from his nose and mouth, and there were no other people around. He slipped into his anorak and went into the hallway, not sure exactly where he was going. The Institute wasn't large, had no secret passages or interesting nooks. The grounds were nice, though. He went out onto the porch and was surprised to find someone already there.

It was Ali, perched on the porch rail, legs tucked up to her chest, scaly black clawed wings unfurled behind her, a gargoyle motionless and, if not serene, certainly detached. She glanced over her shoulder when he walked onto the porch, and started to talk, not really expecting answers. "Can you believe her, Darien? Talking like it's the end of the world if she sends me back home where no one talked like -she- does and everyone understood who I really am... We're just little performing machines to her and I hate it! How dare she treat us like that?"

"If it's so unfair... say something."

Ali blinked furious eyes at him. "Like that would help," she snorted, "She'd probably twist my arm off. There's something not right about that woman."

Darien sat down on the wicker chair next to the door and watched her silently, and she continued to talk. "I can't quite put my finger on it... It's something in the way she watches us when she thinks we're not looking."

He looked at the floor. She glanced back at the horizon, at the moon and stars. "I don't know. I guess I'm just being stupid," she said, and gave a sharp smile.

"You're not."

"Thanks," she said. "It's so strange up here... you can see the stars." Ali snorted, "And it makes me philosophize when I don't want to."

X

Nikki rolled over in her bed, tangled in the sheets, and coughed. She rolled over again and fell onto the floor with a thump, eyes snapping open, and then they opened wider. For the moonlight streaming through the window was obstructed by a dark shape, a very -large- dark shape which wasn't alone. A second one stood next to it, over its shoulder something that looked frighteningly like a gun.

Where the hell was Ali? Her roommate's bed was empty. She opened her mouth to scream, at the same time reaching out with her mind to create a black hole, sucking the intruders into it. However, before sound could emerge, and before she could concentrate long enough to form a void, the second figure clapped a hand over her mouth, and an arm around her waist.

Nikki struggled wildly, kicking out in any direction. She managed to bit the man holding her, tasting coppery blood in her mouth, but the other one jabbed a hypodermic syringe into her arm. Nikki continued to fight but her limbs did not seem to be responding correctly. She felt leaden, heavy, and her eyes drooped inexorably shut. It's a good thing he's holding on to me, she thought dazedly; I'm going to fall.

And then everything went black.

X

"Was that really wise, sir?"

"The project needs to move forward."

"I know, but this early--?"

"You're worried about the backlash, aren't you?"

"…Of course. I'm not stupid."

"It will be fine. We just want to run some... preliminary tests. That sort of thing. Nothing too involved this time."

"If you say so, sir."