Disclaimer: I FORGOT TO PUT A DISLCAIMER!! I DON'T OWN ANYTHING HAVING TO DO WITH X-MEN!!! I WISH I DID, BUT I DON'T!!! If I give you some chocolate, will you give me Nightcrawler??? No? FINE!

This is kind of a short chapter, I am just beginning this and seeing where it takes me. I am also finishing another fic at the moment, so when I am done with that I will have more time to devote to this one. I am also thinking of another fan fic, devoted to Nightcrawler!! Nothing in the romance department, of course, considering I hate romance fics (I have yet to write one) and he is basically a priest. Until then, here is the next chapter!!!

Pyromaniacal Llama: Mary Sue??? ME??? NEVER!!! I SHALL DIE BEFORE I WRITE A MARY SUE…unless it is meant to be a joke. I have contemplated that thought before. I try to know the x-men as well as I can, but I know I am going to mess up sometime. Oh well, I have a right to mess up.

Tree: Have you seen X2 yet???

Toto: THANKS FOR THE COMPLIMENTS!!! Wolverine is there, don't worry. I forgot to add that this is post X2, kind of an X3 for me.

SilverclawRose: WOO HOO!!! I'M A FAVORITE!!! Sorry I couldn't update sooner. I have been disgustingly busy!!!

Zaron of the Red Moon: Of course I will continue!!! SEE!!! This is me continuing!!!

Sharpsnout: Poor Banshee indeed. Don't worry, it might get worse. I am a bit morbid. Could ya tell???

Lady Arien: Thanks!! Dark? Me? Of course. I have a slight habit of being morbid. It will involve the x-men. What is TCP??? Silly me! I'm out of the lingo loop.

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Nightcrawler stood on the roof and looked at the world surrounding him. He never expected to be accepted by such a wide variety of people. True, they were all mutants and felt somewhat the same he did, but it was nice to be able to speak to someone without encountering strange stares. At first some of the children would point and glance awkwardly towards him in the hallways, but they had gotten used to his presence as well as his compassionate ways. He thought back on the way it was a few months ago. The dark, dank tunnels that stretched for what seemed like miles under the Canadian tundra. The constant testing and he could still feel the sharp burning in the back of his neck.

The Professor had said something about more testing facilities, having dreams of bright white corridors and doctors with masks covering their faces, hiding their identities and "protecting" them from the mutant disease they were working to eradicate. Kurt knew these doctors all too well. They may not be the same people, but they might as well be. They had the same cloned personalities, like that of Stryker, and only their faces could distinguish who they were. They always had those cold eyes and smirks on their faces, like they knew what they were doing and thrived on the pain of others.

Kurt sat there, staring at the brilliant foliage around the school Xavier had made for people such as himself, and he prayed for the mutants trapped in such places. The white halls that were driving them from the world as well as their faith in God. He held on to the hope they would all be saved from these places of torture as he held his rosary tightly in his cloven hands.

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She could feel him screaming inside her head. It was like this every night. If not him, than someone else. Psylocke would feel the people she knew, and had grown to love, shriek in agony while either more tests were run or the pain from previous ones was at its peak. It was Banshee this time, and, though he couldn't scream aloud, he certainly could in his mind. She could see everything he was thinking of, and soon she was able to feel the throbbing sting in his throat. Night time used to be peaceful, a time when she could reflect on the day that had past or prepare for the one that would soon begin. Now, however, night was filled with dark thoughts and sinister nightmares.

Banshee fell asleep after the pain calmed to a dull ache and his mind was too tired to carry on. This also meant she was able to calm down for the remainder of the night, which was possibly only an hour, two if she was lucky. At least it was an hour to herself. Peaceful moments were rare and far between, and she cherished every moment when her mind wasn't filled with horrifying images and she could just relax. She sat there and wondered if she could receive thoughts from others, then can others receive thoughts from her?

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Thanks for reading chapter 2! Hope you like it!!! I'm out!

Stretch