The Outcast

Pietro sighed as he walked out of the training room. At least this time he wasn't beaten up. Today might be a good day after all.

"Quicksilver, report to the medical unit, now," Magneto's voice came over the intercom.

Pietro ran instantly, knowing that tone of voice. "You wanted to see me sir?" He asked.

"Yes Pietro," Magneto said. "I'm afraid I have distressing news. It seems Avalanche was not as strong as I hoped he would be."

"What do you mean?" Pietro felt a pang in the pit of his stomach.

"I had developed a special serum to help Alvers reach his full potential. Needless to say, he could not survive before his full potential could be reached."

"Lance is…dead?" Pietro felt as if he had been hit by a ton of bricks. "What happened?"

"He was weak," Magneto told him. "He did not survive the process. No matter. I've made different modifications to some other enhancers. These shall be much better for giving your powers a boost. You and Pyro will test them. The Scarlet Witch is already too strong for her own good. Some drugs to keep her temper under control will suffice. And Blob is strong enough as he is."

"You're going to use us as guinea pigs?" Pietro said.

"I'm doing this to make you stronger," Magneto snapped. "So you won't be so weak! These will make you better. Unless you wish to continue to be a disappointment to me?"

Pietro shook his head. "I thought not," Magneto said. "Now roll up your sleeve."

What Pietro really wanted to do was run out of the room and bawl his eyes out. The thought of never seeing his friend again hurt more than he could bear.

But Pietro did not dare do anything but roll up his sleeve and await the injection.

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Night had fallen on the desert. All seemed peaceful. But it wasn't. Suddenly a massive rumbling split a huge pile of rocks open wide. With a scream Lance managed to crawl out from under them. Somehow he had managed to remove the wire that Magneto had bound him with. He got to his feet. He was cut in several places, bruised and battered, his uniform in tatters. But he was alive.

Lance looked around him. He was alone. There was no one around. He just stood there, dazed and confused at what had happened to him. "Where am I?" He asked aloud. He couldn't remember. "Hello? Is there anyone here?"

He staggered forward, looking for someone, anyone to help him. His throat was parched. His body sore. His head in agony and his mind was still under the effects of the drugs Magneto had given him.

"This really hasn't been your day has it?"

Lance whirled around and saw a small animal sitting before him. Lance opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out.

"Oh I see you've lost your ability to speak as well as most of your uniform," The animal quipped sarcastically. It sounded exactly like Pietro.

"A…A talking dog?" Lance sputtered.

"Hell-oo!" The animal snapped. "I'm a coyote! Not too bright are you?"

"What's a talking coyote doing out in the middle of nowhere?" Lance mused.

"Well think about it," The coyote snapped. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Lance's eyes narrowed. "Magneto…he doped me up with some stuff and then he tried to kill me."

"Right, now you have some weird drugs in your body as well as a concussion from nearly being flattened. What does that tell you?"

"This isn't real is it?" Lance said. "I'm imagining things."

"Duh!" The coyote said sarcastically. "Finally! That's right Einstein, I'm just a figment of your imagination. A product of that empty head of yours. And it only took you how many minutes to figure it out?"

"Where did I get the idea for a coyote?" Lance looked at him rather stupidly.

"Well it could be from those American Indian stories you read in class," The Coyote said. "Oh wait, you didn't do that. Knowing you, you probably picked it up from 'The Simpsons.' I guess I'm supposed to be some sort of spirit guide for you. Yeah like that will work."

"Why do you sound like Pietro?"

"Beats me, it's your subconscious," The coyote told him.

"I've gone nuts haven't I?"

"Oh yeah. Hey where are you going?" The coyote called out as Lance walked away.

"I'm getting out of here! What does it look like?" Lance snapped.

"You're going the wrong way! The only way to get out is to go back in!"

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"How should I know? It's your mind!"

"I am out of here," Lance groaned, walking away.

"Sorry, can't get rid of me that easily," The coyote trotted beside him.

"Go away."

"Let's recap your life for the past few weeks," The coyote said. "You've lost your home, the girl you loved, your friends, and you nearly lost your life as well as your mind. Not that you had much of a brain anyway."

"Shut up!" Lance snapped.

"You are now lost and alone in the desert. With no one around to help you. You'll probably die of either thirst or exposure, if the drugs don't kill you. Or make you even more psychotic…"

"Shut up!"

"Not that it isn't much of a difference anyway. You always were a few rocks shy of a full load to begin with. Have to be to fall for a ditz like Pryde."

"JUST SHUT UP!" Lance shouted. "OR I'LL…"

"Or what stupid? I'm in your mind! What are you gonna do? Wish me away? Oh I am so scared! Not gonna happen. Truth Time Lancey! You can't hide anymore! You are one screwed up jerk!"

"I could have told you that," A man stepped out of the shadows.

"No! It can't be you!" Lance cringed. "You're dead!"

"Ha! So are you in a bit!" The man laughed. "I always said you were useless! Weak little coward!"

"No!" Lance shouted. "I remember you! Marsh! That drug addict foster father from hell! No! No! You died in that fire!"

"A fire you started," Marsh sneered.

"No!" Lance snapped. "I didn't do that! That's not what happened! You were going to hurt me again!"

"A beating you deserved!" Marsh snarled.

"No kid deserves those kind of beatings!" Lance shouted. "I just threw that candle to get you away from me! I didn't mean for it to catch fire to the house!"

"But you did mean to knock me out with a baseball bat huh?" Marsh snarled. "You left me to die!"

"You didn't give me any choice," Lance snapped. "I wasn't going to let you touch me again you pervert!"

"You loved it and you know it," Marsh sneered.

"I was ten years old and scared!" He shouted. "And I'm not gonna let you hurt me anymore!" He focused his powers and sent a shockwave at him. The man dissipated. "You can't hurt me anymore! Understand!"

"You're shouting at nothing stupid!" The coyote snapped. "It's just your mind!"

Lance blinked. There was silence. "I didn't mean to do it," Lance said. "I just wanted him to leave me alone."

"Well you got your wish," The coyote quipped. "Don't see anybody around here now do you?"

"Oh shut up!" Lance started to run away from the coyote. He ran for what seemed like forever. Then he collapsed, and started to pant.

"What took you so long?" The coyote was waiting for him. It was sitting in a lounge chair, drinking lemonade.

"How the…?" Lance got up.

"Hello?" The coyote groaned. "I'm in your mind! You can't run from me!"

"What do you want with me?" Lance shouted.

"To be honest I haven't a clue," It told him. "But it is interesting tormenting you. That little incident with Marsh does explain why you never jumped Kitty's bones."

"Shut up!" Lance shouted. "Don't you talk that way about her!"

"Okay, okay," It said. "Lighten up! Sheesh! Hey let's go back to the day you discovered you were a mutant! That ought to be fun!"

"No!" Lance snapped. He closed his eyes and shouted. "Just get out of my head and go away!"

He opened his eyes. He wasn't in the desert anymore. He was in a bedroom somewhere. "Huh?" He looked around.

"Lance get your lazy ass out of bed!" A gruff voice shouted.

"But my head hurts," A small voice whined. Lance looked and saw himself at fifteen.

"Your butt's gonna hurt if you don't get out of that bed and go to school!" The voice snapped.

"Yes sir," The fifteen-year-old Lance sighed and got ready.

"My head was killing me," Lance sighed. "It had been hurting for weeks on and off. My foster father thought I was being lazy. My foster mother thought I was just defective or something. No one seemed to listen or understand what I was going through. Especially the teachers at school."

Suddenly they were transported to a school hallway. "Alvers get out of here and report to the principal!" The teacher yelled.

"Okay, okay you don't have to yell," The young Lance muttered as he left the room. He went to the nurse's office.

"What do you want now?" The nurse asked.

"My head hurts," Little Lance whined.

"Again? Sheesh kid what's wrong with you?" She handed him some crackers.

"Thanks a lot," Little Lance grumbled. He went outside the school.

"Well if it isn't little Lancie Poo," A huge bully came out with two of his cronies.

"Go away Bernard!" Little Lance snapped back. "I'm not really in the mood for this!"

"That's Rocko to you squirt!" He snarled grabbing him by the shirt. "Boys I think it's time we had a little fun with this loser!"

"Leave me alone!" Lance shouted. Suddenly the earth began to shake.

"What the heck's going on?" One of Rocko's cronies yelped.

"AN EARTHQUAKE!" Rocko dropped Lance and ran away panicking. "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" His cronies followed, leaving Lance behind.

"What the…" Little Lance looked at his hands. "No…Can't be." He focused on his hands. He pointed them to the ground. Suddenly the earth moved, splitting into a huge crack. Frightened, Lance backed away and ran around the corner. Only to run into the principal.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Alvers," He snarled. "You are in such trouble mister! Faking sickness to get out of class! I think it's time we had a talk with your foster parents!"

"Things got even worse when I got home," Lance sighed. "I expected to get beaten up or something. I almost wish I did."

They were back at the kitchen. The younger Lance was being yelled at. "What is the matter with you?" The man shouted at him. "Do you want to be a troublemaker all your life? Huh? Do you want to be a screw up?"

"I'm sorry," Young Lance looked down. "I can't help it. My head hurt and…"

"Oh for crying out loud not this again!" The man groaned.

"I think something really is seriously wrong with him," The woman said. "Maybe he's not right in the head. It would be like them to stick us with a sick kid."

"I'm not surprised!" The man screamed. "What a useless excuse for a person he is!"

"Please stop!" Young Lance screamed, his headache was getting worse. "Just stop yelling at me! I can't take it! It makes my head hurt!" Suddenly the room violently shook. The next thing Lance knew plaster was falling from a crack in the ceiling and there was a hole in the middle of the floor.

"Wh-what happened?" The man looked at Lance in horror. "You did that didn't you?"

"N-No!" Young Lance blinked. "I didn't! Really!"

"Don't lie to me boy!" The man snarled. "How long has this been going on behind our backs! Answer me!"

"It…It just happened today! I swear!" Young Lance started crying. "I swear! I didn't mean to do it!"

"What the hell are you?" The man shouted. "Some kind of freak? You destroyed my house!"

"I knew there was something wrong with that boy!" The woman screamed.

"Miz Anderson," Young Lance reached out for her.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed. "Get away from me!"

"You stay away from us you freak!" The man went to a drawer and pulled a gun on him. "Now get in that closet and stay in there!"

Frightened, Young Lance did so. The man locked him in. "God Howard what are we gonna do?" The woman asked.

"I'll tell you what we're gonna do! We're gonna call Social Services and remove that…that thing right now! I am not having it under this house for one more night!"

Young Lance sobbed, putting his head in his hands as he sank to the floor. Lance sat down beside his younger self. "That was the beginning of it all," Lance said. "Social Services got me that very night. They thought I'd just done some kind of mischief. They didn't believe the Andersons. Who would? I got shuffled from place to place after that. I was lucky if I stayed in a place a few months. I tried to hide it at first, but things happened and when they found out, people freaked."

"I'm sorry," The coyote said.

"The worst part was that no one wanted to touch me," Lance said softly. "They were afraid to even hit me. Like they could catch some disease just by getting too close. It didn't matter how good my grades were. Or how nice I tried to be. No one wanted to come near me. And I didn't blame them. So I pretended that I didn't want anyone. I got cold and I got mean. I no longer cared what people thought about me. So I just did what I wanted. I figured if I was doomed to get in trouble anyway, why not make the most of it?"

Lance closed his eyes. When he opened them he was back in the desert. He shivered. "I'm cold," Lance shivered against the night air. "I thought deserts were supposed to be hot?"

"That's during the daytime genius," The coyote quipped. "Don't worry. The sun will be out soon enough to roast you to a crisp soon enough."

"Well that's a happy thought," Lance groaned. He got up. "Now what do I do? Where do I go now?"

"Don't ask me, I'm just a coyote."

"Some help you are," Lance muttered as he walked away. The sun rose and the heat increased dramatically. Lance kept stumbling across the desert, occasionally swearing at the coyote hallucination.

"Think cool thoughts," The coyote said. "How about this? One Hundred bottles of beer on the wall, one hundred bottles of beer…"

"Just shut up!" Lance shouted. "Shut up and go away!"

"But I thought you needed a friend?"

"With a friend like you who needs enemies! Now leave me alone!"

"Nope! Take one down and pass it around, Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall! Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…

"SHUT UP!" Lance screamed. He felt the earth tremble around him. "I just want to be left alone and think! GO AWAY!"

The next thing he knew, he was falling. Falling into some dark cave. He landed with a thud. He opened his eyes. Everything was dark. It was much cooler, yet the air around him was stuffy. He couldn't see a thing.

Lance looked around. "Now what did I imagine?" Everything around him was dark. He felt as if he had fallen into a cave.

"Uh I hate to break this to you but you didn't imagine this," The coyote said. "Seems Magneto tweaked your powers to be sensitive to the earth. You can do more than make earthquakes now. You can literally move the earth. Right now you are sitting in a self made cavern. A small one, but not bad."

"What does that mean?" Lance looked around. "I can't see anything."

"That's because you closed the hole up," The voice said. "Congratulations! You just buried yourself alive!"