"Surely you've noticed that no matter what you do, people seem to like you, Miss Reynolds," the man said, and Kathleen took a step back, shaking her head.
"Nonsense," she replied, keeping her voice sweet and level. "They only like me because I try to help them and am nice to them."
"Surely though," the man added, his voice filled with icy knowledge, "you've thought that you would like people to like you, be nice to you?"
Kathleen smiled at him, fighting off the fear stabbing at her stomach. "I guess you're right, I'm happier if people like being around me. There's nothing more than that though."
"I see, Miss. Reynolds," the man said, and sighed. "Well, if there is nothing I can do to dissuade you, you're not dangerous yet. I will not press this matter."
"Thanks," she murmured, genuinely relived, and looked up in shock as he handed her a small, neat business card.
"I don't know if your powers will stay safe forever, Miss. Reynolds. Just in case, call me if you need any advice."
"Yeah," she agreed, and he blended off into the crowd.
Walking back into class, Kathleen strode quickly to her seat and, waiting until the class turned away, pounded her head on her desk several times. 'Why did I keep his card?' she thought angrily. 'I'll never need it, it's stupid. I don't believe in mutation...'
"Kathleen?" a voice asked and she started, glancing up quickly. Several boys stood in front of her, looking slightly unnerved. She flicked her gaze from Eric to Raiford to Alexander and back before raising an eyebrow.
"We're supposed to be discussing the story," Raiford said at last.
"Sorry," she said guiltily. "Why don't you sit down?"
She tried, valiantly indeed, to pay attention to the discussion. For a minute or two she could contribute well, then a finger would brush the stiff card the man had given her, and she was lost again.
"What's going on with you?" Alexander snapped at last. Their teacher had decided to make the groups permanent minutes ago, and Kathleen had simply blinked and nodded, quite unlike her normal sighs of neutrality.
"Huh?" she asked again, snapping back. Then once again, "Sorry. I guess I'm just tired or something." Guilty smile, paying attention, drifting off into her thoughts.
The boys finally gave up on her, subtly redirecting their attention and questions to one another, and when the bell rang, she wandered alone, out to lunch.
Eric, knowing that he really knew next to nothing about Kathleen, was content to let the girl sigh and be quiet and drift in and out of attention. He knew what it was like to feel slightly different, just the smallest feeling in the most slim part of his mind. Kathleen was starting to unnerve him now.
For the first several days he could tell she was troubled, that wasn't good, but it was fine. Then she slowly begin to radiate a feeling of being lost, one that shone from her eyes and spilled out in every word. Soon, however, he felt lost every time he looked at her, felt self doubt plaguing him.
He knew everyone felt it, because rooms went quiet when Kathleen entered. "I'm going to talk about it!" he announced, and then, as Kathleen started and Raiford raised an eyebrow, blushed. "Kathleen... You're scaring me," he continued bravely.
"Gee, thanks. If I give you a twenty will you go the whole nine yards and hang me?" she quipped angrily, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring. "If I have problems, I will sulk them out myself, thank you very much."
Eric glared, and Kathleen's eyes flashed brightly. A strange feeling overcame him, and he spoke without thinking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."
Kathleen's face drained of colour, and, leaving her books behind, she raced out of the room.
"What did you do?" Alexander asked nervously.
"I'll let you know when I figure it out myself.
Kathleen clenched her fingers around the worn business card, squeezing her eyes shut angrily. "What's wrong with me," she muttered to herself, drawing in the pain that wavered around her.
"You don't know?" a voice asked, and Eric, serious faced and quiet, settled down next to her. "I figured you always knew stuff."
"Welcome to the real world," Kathleen sighed, biting her lip as she looked at the fist holding the card.
"Wa'cha thinking about?" Eric asked at last, curiously following her gaze.
"If I should be stupid and do something I know could change my life, or make everyone around me miserable by leaving well enough alone," she replied. Eric's fingers were cool as he opened her fingers and tugged the card out.
"Professor Sewike?" he asked. "Well, lets call him."
Professor Martin Sewike resisted the urge to gloat as a young voice drifted over the phone. Kathleen had snapped, and had even brought another powerful child into the issue. The two would be meeting him outside the school in ten minutes, and he could finally start building the Zchrom team.
He stopped briefly, admiring the new paint on his car. The vehicle was his pride and joy, his competition for the planes the X-Men used. "Since I'm starting young," he announced aloud as he revved the engine, "my team will certainly surpass theirs!"
Charles Xavier, his cousin, was a constant source of frustration. The fact that his cousin had bested him in everything, Cerebro, Mutant teams, mutant powers themselves, was like a knife in his side.
He knew, from endless hours of research, that mutant powers were genetic, often skipping generations before resurfacing, but always constant. Canada's last several generations had surfaced a dry time for mutation, revealing only several Zchroms without much power or will to fight. This though, the children growing now, was a veritable stockpile of level A, frustratingly powerful, immensely dangerous proteges.
If only they'd get over their teen pride.
Kathleen was ^cold^. Shooting a glare at Eric, she tucked her fingers into her pockets, hunched her shoulders, and narrowed her eyes. "Did I mention that I hate winter?" she growled.
Eric beamed back. "Several times, mon ami," he said innocently. "I think it's funny though. I mean, you, big, tough, freaky girl... hates snow."
"I told you," she replied, looking as if she seriously considered strangling him. "I hate snow because it's cold and wet and gets in my shoes. I hate standing in snow because I'm cold, wet, and unwillingly being dragged into something I'm almost positive I don't want to do!"
Eric grinned widely as the vehicle pulled up, opening the door for her and waiting until she stepped in before following.
"Welcome, children," the voice from the phone announced, and he looked at the back of a blonde head and beamed. "I'm so pleased you decided to come, Miss. Reynolds. I shall take this time to mention the fact that, since you have contacted me you have, in essence, sold your soul to me."
"I'm blaming you for all of this," Kathleen told Eric frankly, glaring. "If I'm killed, my parents will ^so^ sue you!"
"I'm sure you will both be glad to learn that you are the first children bearing the Z chromosome, the chromosome of a higher mutation."
Kathleen, cheeks scarlet from the cold, scowled. "Peachy... We're freaks? I kind of figured as much for me, but Eric's just himself." She drew in on herself more, missing how Eric's eyes flashed dangerously. The road seemed to stretch forever, and she dozed off, missing her companion's words.
"If only you knew, Kathleen."
The fact that he was sitting in the back of a shiny car next to a girl who had just succeeded in screwing up his whole class with a crazy man who talked about mutation didn't bother Eric at all. He was a class clown, and proud of it, but the title meant he had to take things in stride.
Translate into "don't freak out because you don't know what's going on."
The fact that Professor Sewike had a last name similar to Alexander's probably wasn't a coincidence, either, he thought. All the more for him to ponder, but there wasn't anything to fret about. That happened on its own.
'Please, please don't let me fritz,' he thought nervously, clenching his hands tightly. 'Don't let me fritz, don't let me fritz, don't let me fritz...'
"So, Mr. Wolfe-Gordon," the professor drawled lazily. "Would you care to explain to me what a 'fritz' is?"
Everything from his toes to his hair froze, and he cowered like a cornered animal, instinctively curling up. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured quickly, wishing that he would fritz right then so he could be safe.
"Mr. Wolfe-Gordon?"
The professor's voice held a hint of panic, and he peeked down to his hands, sighing quietly when he could only see the neat leather seats. "I know that you can make yourself invisible, Mr. Wolfe-Gordon," the professor said frankly. "How long has this been going on?"
Quivering in a faint rush, Eric slipped towards a door. He could get out and be safe, and the voices from the animals and the Fritzs and everything could just disappear.
A hand, pale fingers tight in the tinted light, caught his wrist. "Don't go anywhere," Kathleen hissed and he blinked, surprised that she could see him. "I can feel your mind, please don't be afraid, Eric," she continued, green eyes wide at her revelation.
"I'm sorry," he replied, just as softly, and willed himself to be visible again. "I can turn invisible," he added, almost certain she had always known. "I can talk to animals too... I didn't want to be a mutant, my parents won't be happy."
"At least neither of us have tails," she giggled lightly, and released her painfully tight grasp. "We have it good, I guess."
The woozy feeling, the one where he felt like he was doing something wrong was back, and he turned away. Her eyes widened in panic and she asked, "What's wrong... What did I do?"
"We don't have any name for your particular talent, Miss. Reynolds," Professor Sewike cut in calmly. "I have next to no information on it, but I'm sure we can struggle through several simple tests." He grinned widely in the mirror, and handed back a pair of dark shades. "For the time, let us see if these will shelter your power. The inside of them is coated with a material not unlike the substance of Cyclops' visors, and the outside is simple sunglasses."
Kathleen crossed her eyes before sliding them up her nose, sighing. "I had just got rid of my glasses, too," she grumbled, before facing him. "How do I look?"
"Marvelous."
If there was one thing she had to say for Professor Sewike's base, it was big. The walls were all, she knew, fireproof, waterproof, and completely sterile, while the hallways blended together in a complex maze, the last defense.
Peering carefully around from behind her defensive glasses, she tried to take in everything. Eric bounced beside her, the professor strolled ahead, and, for all the rooms and smaller hallways, the building was completely empty.
As if he sensed her thought, the professor laughed. "I wasn't kidding when I said you two were the first of the Zchrom team," he chuckled. "We should gradually get new members, and before long I'll be wondering why I didn't build this thing bigger."
Raising her eyebrows, Kathleen considered the numbers needed. "I'll take your word for it," she said at last. "You know of more people who can be... Zed-whatevers?"
"That's Zchroms," the professor snapped irritably. "Zee-chroms."
"Oh... You're American?" Eric asked enthusiastically. "Everyone knows Canadians say Zed." He flashed a large, radiant smile and began to sing in a high, childish voice. "Aye, bee, see, dee, ee, ef, gee! Aich, eye, jay, kay, ell, em, en, oh, pee! Kyew, are ess, tee yew, vee! Double-yew, ex, why, and ZED! Now I know my aye-bee-sees, next time you should sing with me!"
Kathleen rubbed her temples, sighing, "You have just proved to me, Eric, that you are the most responsible kinder gardener on the face of the planet."
Oblivious to their conversation, the professor began to speak confidently. "I have chosen you for two reasons: One, you are potentially very dangerous and have already lost control of your powers several times and two, you're both mature and responsible." Smiling, he glanced back in time to see Eric gracefully poke Kathleen and leap back, giggling, when she slapped at his hand.
"I have a lot of work to do," he announced.
The fact that she hadn't been eating well rested heavily on Kathleen as she looked at the training suit Professor Sewike had left for her. Thinking logically, she had realized that using her power had drained her physically, and not eating had taken her last reserves. She was officially skin and bones.
"Professor, maybe I should just wear... I dunno, a t-shirt?" she whined loudly, knowing he could hear her. Knowing that if she walked out there in the tight training outfit, her ribs would show, her skin would reveal itself painfully pale and loose, and she would lose their respect.
"Now, Miss. Reynolds," he commanded. "I was under the impression that you could change quickly?"
She winced angrily, sliding into the suit and zipping it up neatly before twisting her hair back and peering out. "Don't look," she said nervously before pushing the glasses up. "I'm embarrassed."
Eric giggled again, a soft, quiet sound, and she stepped out. "You look... like a stick," he announced frankly, scrunching his nose. "I didn't know you could be that skinny, it just isn't natural."
"Another self confidence booster, thank you," she retorted, bowing abruptly. "Shall we?" Then punched, hard.
Eric stumbled backwards at this, scrambling away. "What the Hell was that for?" he asked before he thought about it.
"Training... fighting," she drawled lazily. "Generally, you try to hit things when you fight, Eric." She lashed again as he winced, and he was soon returning the blows to her too thin, too weak form.
Ryan glanced to the table where Kathleen should have been, feeling almost empty without the frightening sense of oddness. When she had run out, his head had felt the confusion, and then everything had settled. It was strange, to feel emotions he didn't think were his, but he could accept it.
Ben passed him a piece of paper, and the edge drew sharply along his fingertip. He hissed in pain as a thin line of blood welled up, and, before anyone noticed, he wiped it away. The line of injury was gone as quickly as the blood, and he repressed a gasp of relief.
If it hadn't worked that time, then he would have been worried. One thing he didn't think about, didn't ask anyone about, didn't acknowledge, was that. The fact that, no badly he managed to get hurt, it would repair quickly, even instantly. That was a safe feeling, and he could keep it to himself.
'Everyone's doing it,' he though, smirking at the irony, and, shooting his healed fingertip a final, frustrated glance, turned back to his work.
"I like to call these missions 'search and retrieve'," Professor Sewike announced, handing Kathleen a small metal device and Eric a rope. "The point is to go out, find a mutant, and bring them back. End of story, clear?"
Kathleen shook her head, sliding the device into a pocket. "I promised I'd head to my brother's game," she replied. "I'll do this searching thing tomorrow, okay?"
The professor's glare was enough of an answer, but she shrugged it off confidently. "A promise is a promise," Eric agreed. "We can look around there... Who knows!"
"Right," Professor Sewike's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I suppose you'll just look, and see someone... I don't know, melt a hole in the ice, or freeze a person's stick to the puck or something!"
Kathleen gaped as Clayton reached out, fingers twitching slightly as the puck stuck to his stick. He tilted his head, confused, lifted his stick over his head, and shook it several times, but the puck stayed fastened tightly.
"I didn't think the Professor was ^serious^," Eric gasped in disbelief. "I was getting so good at reading sarcasm too!"
She glanced at him, giggling, and twitched her face straight. "Will you provide a distraction so I can steal Ian and Clayton?" she asked innocently.
"Most certainly."
She trusted him instinctively and, pushing her glasses down and briefly wishing that she couldn't be seen, that they had no idea she was there, jumped the glass and skidded out to her younger brother and his teammate.
"Hey, Ian, I have something to ask you," she announced as she righted herself carefully. "Do you trust me?"
Clayton, still numbly clutching his frozen stick, wasn't that good of company, Ian realized. Kathleen, napping on his other side, certainly wasn't optimal either, and her friend, the boy... They didn't even know each other!
He glared out the window sullenly, wondering where they were going. The icy road stretched out for miles on either side, and the large, beautiful sports car didn't impress him just now. Instead, he felt a pounding headache coming on, accompanied by a deep sense of foreboding.
"Hey?" the boy, brown eyes glowing slightly. "Is there supposed to be things on the road around here?"
The man focused on the people standing in front of them and swore fluently. "What the hell do they think they're doing?" he barked at last. "They know they're not allowed to attack until I have a fully assembled, capable team!"
Kathleen woke with a start, stretching slowly as the professor braked the car abruptly. "Wa'za'matter?" she yawned as he popped the doors open.
"Do you remember the drill I worked on with you yesterday?" he asked innocently.
"Yeah... So?"
"Good luck," he announced, and tossed her a sword.
Clayton was dragged free from the car before he could register the lack of the motor's noise, and he stood silently at the side of the road, shivering slightly. The redheaded girl sprang forward gracefully, and he tensed himself, grabbing his hockey stick to his chest tightly.
"Clayton... Please... Let it go," a voice murmured, and warm fingertips covered his, loosening his grasp on the frozen stick. "Let me take it," the voice continued, and he looked into the green eyes of his teammate, Ian.
A feeling frothed gently through his mind, and he released the stick without a word. Ian beamed at him, then turned back to the fight, tensed as the redhead blocked a strange attack dazedly. "She'll be okay," he announced. "She's your sister, right?"
"Yeah," Ian replied happily. "And the other guy is ... Eric, I think. I don't know him."
"Mmm," he agreed peaceably, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder.
"We should probably help," Ian muttered at last, watching as the strange people ganged up on the two teenagers. He ignored the nagging voice that said that he couldn't do anything. Glad at last for well trained muscles, he jogged up towards the fighting. A pale, slender woman with strange eyes glared towards him, and he felt a stab of fear. "Come on," he added to Clayton, making sure that his voice didn't shake.
The woman's eyes, already a strange, feral violet, turned a shocking blue, and he felt his mind scream in agony. "No!" someone else shrieked, and he watched as Kathleen stepped in front of him. Clayton's cold arms were around him and he listened to his sister speak. "Don't you dare hurt my baby brother."
"Well, then," the woman's mocking voice announced. "Whatever shall I do?"
Kathleen was screaming, agonized, drawn out howls. He reached out to her, tears leaking out of his eyes, but the world spun into blackness before he could feel the material of her coat.
Eric paced quickly, shooting worried glances at the prone redheads on the medical tables. The small boy who had iced his hockey stick quivered alone in a corner. "What's wrong with them?" the boy asked nervously.
"The telepath attempted to destroy Mr. Reynolds' mind before his sister intervened," Professor Sewike announced simply. "I assume that the woman had no care as to who was injured, since she turned her onslaught on Miss. Reynolds as soon as her clear path was blocked."
"So do something!" Eric snapped fiercely.
"I cannot," the professor continued. "The telepath only manipulated Mr. Reynolds' mind, so he should wake soon, but Miss. Reynolds on the other hand... Her mind is destroyed, literally. The cells are dead, and nothing short of a miracle will save her."
Tbc
"Nonsense," she replied, keeping her voice sweet and level. "They only like me because I try to help them and am nice to them."
"Surely though," the man added, his voice filled with icy knowledge, "you've thought that you would like people to like you, be nice to you?"
Kathleen smiled at him, fighting off the fear stabbing at her stomach. "I guess you're right, I'm happier if people like being around me. There's nothing more than that though."
"I see, Miss. Reynolds," the man said, and sighed. "Well, if there is nothing I can do to dissuade you, you're not dangerous yet. I will not press this matter."
"Thanks," she murmured, genuinely relived, and looked up in shock as he handed her a small, neat business card.
"I don't know if your powers will stay safe forever, Miss. Reynolds. Just in case, call me if you need any advice."
"Yeah," she agreed, and he blended off into the crowd.
Walking back into class, Kathleen strode quickly to her seat and, waiting until the class turned away, pounded her head on her desk several times. 'Why did I keep his card?' she thought angrily. 'I'll never need it, it's stupid. I don't believe in mutation...'
"Kathleen?" a voice asked and she started, glancing up quickly. Several boys stood in front of her, looking slightly unnerved. She flicked her gaze from Eric to Raiford to Alexander and back before raising an eyebrow.
"We're supposed to be discussing the story," Raiford said at last.
"Sorry," she said guiltily. "Why don't you sit down?"
She tried, valiantly indeed, to pay attention to the discussion. For a minute or two she could contribute well, then a finger would brush the stiff card the man had given her, and she was lost again.
"What's going on with you?" Alexander snapped at last. Their teacher had decided to make the groups permanent minutes ago, and Kathleen had simply blinked and nodded, quite unlike her normal sighs of neutrality.
"Huh?" she asked again, snapping back. Then once again, "Sorry. I guess I'm just tired or something." Guilty smile, paying attention, drifting off into her thoughts.
The boys finally gave up on her, subtly redirecting their attention and questions to one another, and when the bell rang, she wandered alone, out to lunch.
Eric, knowing that he really knew next to nothing about Kathleen, was content to let the girl sigh and be quiet and drift in and out of attention. He knew what it was like to feel slightly different, just the smallest feeling in the most slim part of his mind. Kathleen was starting to unnerve him now.
For the first several days he could tell she was troubled, that wasn't good, but it was fine. Then she slowly begin to radiate a feeling of being lost, one that shone from her eyes and spilled out in every word. Soon, however, he felt lost every time he looked at her, felt self doubt plaguing him.
He knew everyone felt it, because rooms went quiet when Kathleen entered. "I'm going to talk about it!" he announced, and then, as Kathleen started and Raiford raised an eyebrow, blushed. "Kathleen... You're scaring me," he continued bravely.
"Gee, thanks. If I give you a twenty will you go the whole nine yards and hang me?" she quipped angrily, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring. "If I have problems, I will sulk them out myself, thank you very much."
Eric glared, and Kathleen's eyes flashed brightly. A strange feeling overcame him, and he spoke without thinking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."
Kathleen's face drained of colour, and, leaving her books behind, she raced out of the room.
"What did you do?" Alexander asked nervously.
"I'll let you know when I figure it out myself.
Kathleen clenched her fingers around the worn business card, squeezing her eyes shut angrily. "What's wrong with me," she muttered to herself, drawing in the pain that wavered around her.
"You don't know?" a voice asked, and Eric, serious faced and quiet, settled down next to her. "I figured you always knew stuff."
"Welcome to the real world," Kathleen sighed, biting her lip as she looked at the fist holding the card.
"Wa'cha thinking about?" Eric asked at last, curiously following her gaze.
"If I should be stupid and do something I know could change my life, or make everyone around me miserable by leaving well enough alone," she replied. Eric's fingers were cool as he opened her fingers and tugged the card out.
"Professor Sewike?" he asked. "Well, lets call him."
Professor Martin Sewike resisted the urge to gloat as a young voice drifted over the phone. Kathleen had snapped, and had even brought another powerful child into the issue. The two would be meeting him outside the school in ten minutes, and he could finally start building the Zchrom team.
He stopped briefly, admiring the new paint on his car. The vehicle was his pride and joy, his competition for the planes the X-Men used. "Since I'm starting young," he announced aloud as he revved the engine, "my team will certainly surpass theirs!"
Charles Xavier, his cousin, was a constant source of frustration. The fact that his cousin had bested him in everything, Cerebro, Mutant teams, mutant powers themselves, was like a knife in his side.
He knew, from endless hours of research, that mutant powers were genetic, often skipping generations before resurfacing, but always constant. Canada's last several generations had surfaced a dry time for mutation, revealing only several Zchroms without much power or will to fight. This though, the children growing now, was a veritable stockpile of level A, frustratingly powerful, immensely dangerous proteges.
If only they'd get over their teen pride.
Kathleen was ^cold^. Shooting a glare at Eric, she tucked her fingers into her pockets, hunched her shoulders, and narrowed her eyes. "Did I mention that I hate winter?" she growled.
Eric beamed back. "Several times, mon ami," he said innocently. "I think it's funny though. I mean, you, big, tough, freaky girl... hates snow."
"I told you," she replied, looking as if she seriously considered strangling him. "I hate snow because it's cold and wet and gets in my shoes. I hate standing in snow because I'm cold, wet, and unwillingly being dragged into something I'm almost positive I don't want to do!"
Eric grinned widely as the vehicle pulled up, opening the door for her and waiting until she stepped in before following.
"Welcome, children," the voice from the phone announced, and he looked at the back of a blonde head and beamed. "I'm so pleased you decided to come, Miss. Reynolds. I shall take this time to mention the fact that, since you have contacted me you have, in essence, sold your soul to me."
"I'm blaming you for all of this," Kathleen told Eric frankly, glaring. "If I'm killed, my parents will ^so^ sue you!"
"I'm sure you will both be glad to learn that you are the first children bearing the Z chromosome, the chromosome of a higher mutation."
Kathleen, cheeks scarlet from the cold, scowled. "Peachy... We're freaks? I kind of figured as much for me, but Eric's just himself." She drew in on herself more, missing how Eric's eyes flashed dangerously. The road seemed to stretch forever, and she dozed off, missing her companion's words.
"If only you knew, Kathleen."
The fact that he was sitting in the back of a shiny car next to a girl who had just succeeded in screwing up his whole class with a crazy man who talked about mutation didn't bother Eric at all. He was a class clown, and proud of it, but the title meant he had to take things in stride.
Translate into "don't freak out because you don't know what's going on."
The fact that Professor Sewike had a last name similar to Alexander's probably wasn't a coincidence, either, he thought. All the more for him to ponder, but there wasn't anything to fret about. That happened on its own.
'Please, please don't let me fritz,' he thought nervously, clenching his hands tightly. 'Don't let me fritz, don't let me fritz, don't let me fritz...'
"So, Mr. Wolfe-Gordon," the professor drawled lazily. "Would you care to explain to me what a 'fritz' is?"
Everything from his toes to his hair froze, and he cowered like a cornered animal, instinctively curling up. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured quickly, wishing that he would fritz right then so he could be safe.
"Mr. Wolfe-Gordon?"
The professor's voice held a hint of panic, and he peeked down to his hands, sighing quietly when he could only see the neat leather seats. "I know that you can make yourself invisible, Mr. Wolfe-Gordon," the professor said frankly. "How long has this been going on?"
Quivering in a faint rush, Eric slipped towards a door. He could get out and be safe, and the voices from the animals and the Fritzs and everything could just disappear.
A hand, pale fingers tight in the tinted light, caught his wrist. "Don't go anywhere," Kathleen hissed and he blinked, surprised that she could see him. "I can feel your mind, please don't be afraid, Eric," she continued, green eyes wide at her revelation.
"I'm sorry," he replied, just as softly, and willed himself to be visible again. "I can turn invisible," he added, almost certain she had always known. "I can talk to animals too... I didn't want to be a mutant, my parents won't be happy."
"At least neither of us have tails," she giggled lightly, and released her painfully tight grasp. "We have it good, I guess."
The woozy feeling, the one where he felt like he was doing something wrong was back, and he turned away. Her eyes widened in panic and she asked, "What's wrong... What did I do?"
"We don't have any name for your particular talent, Miss. Reynolds," Professor Sewike cut in calmly. "I have next to no information on it, but I'm sure we can struggle through several simple tests." He grinned widely in the mirror, and handed back a pair of dark shades. "For the time, let us see if these will shelter your power. The inside of them is coated with a material not unlike the substance of Cyclops' visors, and the outside is simple sunglasses."
Kathleen crossed her eyes before sliding them up her nose, sighing. "I had just got rid of my glasses, too," she grumbled, before facing him. "How do I look?"
"Marvelous."
If there was one thing she had to say for Professor Sewike's base, it was big. The walls were all, she knew, fireproof, waterproof, and completely sterile, while the hallways blended together in a complex maze, the last defense.
Peering carefully around from behind her defensive glasses, she tried to take in everything. Eric bounced beside her, the professor strolled ahead, and, for all the rooms and smaller hallways, the building was completely empty.
As if he sensed her thought, the professor laughed. "I wasn't kidding when I said you two were the first of the Zchrom team," he chuckled. "We should gradually get new members, and before long I'll be wondering why I didn't build this thing bigger."
Raising her eyebrows, Kathleen considered the numbers needed. "I'll take your word for it," she said at last. "You know of more people who can be... Zed-whatevers?"
"That's Zchroms," the professor snapped irritably. "Zee-chroms."
"Oh... You're American?" Eric asked enthusiastically. "Everyone knows Canadians say Zed." He flashed a large, radiant smile and began to sing in a high, childish voice. "Aye, bee, see, dee, ee, ef, gee! Aich, eye, jay, kay, ell, em, en, oh, pee! Kyew, are ess, tee yew, vee! Double-yew, ex, why, and ZED! Now I know my aye-bee-sees, next time you should sing with me!"
Kathleen rubbed her temples, sighing, "You have just proved to me, Eric, that you are the most responsible kinder gardener on the face of the planet."
Oblivious to their conversation, the professor began to speak confidently. "I have chosen you for two reasons: One, you are potentially very dangerous and have already lost control of your powers several times and two, you're both mature and responsible." Smiling, he glanced back in time to see Eric gracefully poke Kathleen and leap back, giggling, when she slapped at his hand.
"I have a lot of work to do," he announced.
The fact that she hadn't been eating well rested heavily on Kathleen as she looked at the training suit Professor Sewike had left for her. Thinking logically, she had realized that using her power had drained her physically, and not eating had taken her last reserves. She was officially skin and bones.
"Professor, maybe I should just wear... I dunno, a t-shirt?" she whined loudly, knowing he could hear her. Knowing that if she walked out there in the tight training outfit, her ribs would show, her skin would reveal itself painfully pale and loose, and she would lose their respect.
"Now, Miss. Reynolds," he commanded. "I was under the impression that you could change quickly?"
She winced angrily, sliding into the suit and zipping it up neatly before twisting her hair back and peering out. "Don't look," she said nervously before pushing the glasses up. "I'm embarrassed."
Eric giggled again, a soft, quiet sound, and she stepped out. "You look... like a stick," he announced frankly, scrunching his nose. "I didn't know you could be that skinny, it just isn't natural."
"Another self confidence booster, thank you," she retorted, bowing abruptly. "Shall we?" Then punched, hard.
Eric stumbled backwards at this, scrambling away. "What the Hell was that for?" he asked before he thought about it.
"Training... fighting," she drawled lazily. "Generally, you try to hit things when you fight, Eric." She lashed again as he winced, and he was soon returning the blows to her too thin, too weak form.
Ryan glanced to the table where Kathleen should have been, feeling almost empty without the frightening sense of oddness. When she had run out, his head had felt the confusion, and then everything had settled. It was strange, to feel emotions he didn't think were his, but he could accept it.
Ben passed him a piece of paper, and the edge drew sharply along his fingertip. He hissed in pain as a thin line of blood welled up, and, before anyone noticed, he wiped it away. The line of injury was gone as quickly as the blood, and he repressed a gasp of relief.
If it hadn't worked that time, then he would have been worried. One thing he didn't think about, didn't ask anyone about, didn't acknowledge, was that. The fact that, no badly he managed to get hurt, it would repair quickly, even instantly. That was a safe feeling, and he could keep it to himself.
'Everyone's doing it,' he though, smirking at the irony, and, shooting his healed fingertip a final, frustrated glance, turned back to his work.
"I like to call these missions 'search and retrieve'," Professor Sewike announced, handing Kathleen a small metal device and Eric a rope. "The point is to go out, find a mutant, and bring them back. End of story, clear?"
Kathleen shook her head, sliding the device into a pocket. "I promised I'd head to my brother's game," she replied. "I'll do this searching thing tomorrow, okay?"
The professor's glare was enough of an answer, but she shrugged it off confidently. "A promise is a promise," Eric agreed. "We can look around there... Who knows!"
"Right," Professor Sewike's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I suppose you'll just look, and see someone... I don't know, melt a hole in the ice, or freeze a person's stick to the puck or something!"
Kathleen gaped as Clayton reached out, fingers twitching slightly as the puck stuck to his stick. He tilted his head, confused, lifted his stick over his head, and shook it several times, but the puck stayed fastened tightly.
"I didn't think the Professor was ^serious^," Eric gasped in disbelief. "I was getting so good at reading sarcasm too!"
She glanced at him, giggling, and twitched her face straight. "Will you provide a distraction so I can steal Ian and Clayton?" she asked innocently.
"Most certainly."
She trusted him instinctively and, pushing her glasses down and briefly wishing that she couldn't be seen, that they had no idea she was there, jumped the glass and skidded out to her younger brother and his teammate.
"Hey, Ian, I have something to ask you," she announced as she righted herself carefully. "Do you trust me?"
Clayton, still numbly clutching his frozen stick, wasn't that good of company, Ian realized. Kathleen, napping on his other side, certainly wasn't optimal either, and her friend, the boy... They didn't even know each other!
He glared out the window sullenly, wondering where they were going. The icy road stretched out for miles on either side, and the large, beautiful sports car didn't impress him just now. Instead, he felt a pounding headache coming on, accompanied by a deep sense of foreboding.
"Hey?" the boy, brown eyes glowing slightly. "Is there supposed to be things on the road around here?"
The man focused on the people standing in front of them and swore fluently. "What the hell do they think they're doing?" he barked at last. "They know they're not allowed to attack until I have a fully assembled, capable team!"
Kathleen woke with a start, stretching slowly as the professor braked the car abruptly. "Wa'za'matter?" she yawned as he popped the doors open.
"Do you remember the drill I worked on with you yesterday?" he asked innocently.
"Yeah... So?"
"Good luck," he announced, and tossed her a sword.
Clayton was dragged free from the car before he could register the lack of the motor's noise, and he stood silently at the side of the road, shivering slightly. The redheaded girl sprang forward gracefully, and he tensed himself, grabbing his hockey stick to his chest tightly.
"Clayton... Please... Let it go," a voice murmured, and warm fingertips covered his, loosening his grasp on the frozen stick. "Let me take it," the voice continued, and he looked into the green eyes of his teammate, Ian.
A feeling frothed gently through his mind, and he released the stick without a word. Ian beamed at him, then turned back to the fight, tensed as the redhead blocked a strange attack dazedly. "She'll be okay," he announced. "She's your sister, right?"
"Yeah," Ian replied happily. "And the other guy is ... Eric, I think. I don't know him."
"Mmm," he agreed peaceably, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder.
"We should probably help," Ian muttered at last, watching as the strange people ganged up on the two teenagers. He ignored the nagging voice that said that he couldn't do anything. Glad at last for well trained muscles, he jogged up towards the fighting. A pale, slender woman with strange eyes glared towards him, and he felt a stab of fear. "Come on," he added to Clayton, making sure that his voice didn't shake.
The woman's eyes, already a strange, feral violet, turned a shocking blue, and he felt his mind scream in agony. "No!" someone else shrieked, and he watched as Kathleen stepped in front of him. Clayton's cold arms were around him and he listened to his sister speak. "Don't you dare hurt my baby brother."
"Well, then," the woman's mocking voice announced. "Whatever shall I do?"
Kathleen was screaming, agonized, drawn out howls. He reached out to her, tears leaking out of his eyes, but the world spun into blackness before he could feel the material of her coat.
Eric paced quickly, shooting worried glances at the prone redheads on the medical tables. The small boy who had iced his hockey stick quivered alone in a corner. "What's wrong with them?" the boy asked nervously.
"The telepath attempted to destroy Mr. Reynolds' mind before his sister intervened," Professor Sewike announced simply. "I assume that the woman had no care as to who was injured, since she turned her onslaught on Miss. Reynolds as soon as her clear path was blocked."
"So do something!" Eric snapped fiercely.
"I cannot," the professor continued. "The telepath only manipulated Mr. Reynolds' mind, so he should wake soon, but Miss. Reynolds on the other hand... Her mind is destroyed, literally. The cells are dead, and nothing short of a miracle will save her."
Tbc