A/N: I'm being such a good little writer, aren't I? Enjoy these frequent updates while you can, I doubt they'll last. Anyway, some important notes. This story takes place before the current arc in Uncanny X-Men. Now, I'm messing with New X-Men some. Quentin and the others are on kick and hurting humans, but open house isn't for two months still. (There time, not ours.) I have the bad feeling I'm gonna be inconsistent with accents, too, so ya know.
Disclaimer:
"Got the ring, Alex?"
"What's it worth to you?"
"Want to die, Alex?" Scott and Alex, Uncanny X-Men 175
Kurt Wagner had faced many things in his life (the Brood, Sentinels, Apocalypse, angry mobs, the time Bobby put Nair in his shampoo, Moira's coffee) but he had never been as exhausted as he was now. He slumped onto the bed, dropping the last box of books in the process. He mumbled angry German words.
"I'm sure that wasn't nice," Leslie said dryly from her place on the floor.
Kurt grinned back at her. "Nein. It vasn't."
Leslie barely managed to stop herself from shivering in fear—the light shined on his fangs, making them look particularly sharp. It reminded her yet again that she was either losing her mind or trapped in an alternated universe and currently was looking at a priest who happened to look like a demon. I never appreciated the irony of that before as much as I do now…
A silence fell for a moment, during which she worked putting things away and Kurt rested, weary from so many teleports. Groaning, he stood up, stretching his arms. "Before I forget, here," he said, handing her a book.
Puzzled, Leslie took it. "'Welcome to the Xavier Institute?'"
"Ja. It has the rules and such in it."
"Oh, God, not more rules," she groaned, thinking of her last school.
Kurt laughed. "I vill leave you to it." With that, he teleported out of the room.
Still groaning, Leslie pulled herself up onto her bed and started to read.
Talking with Kurt was…difficult, I suppose. He's funny and kind, but I'm still scared. Not as much as I was, though, which I suppose is progress. It's hard to be afraid after awhile. But…when I see him, or any of the X-Men, for that matter, it just reminds me that I'm stuck here…
I read the manual, and am actually glad that I did. It had boring things in it, like curfews and such, but it also had things in it that I needed to know, like maps and dinner times and such. According to it, every Sunday a bus takes any student who wants to attend church into Salem Center. At least I know one thing will be the same here as at home.
I wonder what my power is? I've barely had time to think about the fact that I'm a mutant, I've been so upset about being here at all. Hank said that it could develop any time in the next three months. I'm terrified, but also…excited, I guess. I mean, I don't really know what I'm supposed to be feeling right now.
I feel badly for telling Bobby Rogue's name. It's not something I should even know…Should I tell them anything that I know? I know Logan's real name, I know what the Supreme Pontiff, the bastard, did to Kurt…but what will happen here if I do?
…This gets more confusing every minute…
Sighing, Leslie closed her journal and glanced at her clock. According to the book, she'd have to go now if she wanted to have dinner. Grabbing the tear-out map, she left her room.
After an eternity (or fifteen minutes, but whose counting?) of walking, she finally discovered the cafeteria. Well, she guessed it had once been a ballroom or something—it was a mansion—but it had food in it, and that was all her stomach cared about…food. Yummy!
Hurrying, she grabbed a tray and began studying the selections. "Well, at least it's not moving," she commented to no one in particular. Shrugging, she grabbed a salad and a plate of chicken, then looked around for a seat. That's when she noticed that almost everyone in the cafeteria was studying her. Oh, hell, what now? Curious, she glanced behind her. Nope, no one there. She glanced at her outfit. What, jeans not "in" here? I didn't spill anything… Finally, she gave up and raised her eyebrows at the crowd before heading towards an empty table. Alright, you wanna look at the new kid, look at the new kid. She began to eat.
"You Leslie?" a deep voice asked. Startled, she looked up to see a guy with light brown hair cut in the strangest fashion and wearing…a red and black…shit!!
"I am," she said as calmly as she could, trying not to pass out. "And you must be Quentin. Nice hair." She made sure to put considerable sarcasm on the last part.
He raised his eyebrow at her. "So, the news is true."
"Can't say. Haven't heard it. Now, are you going to tell me, or will you just leave so I can get back to eating?"
"Cute," he smirked, sitting down across from her on one chair and putting his legs on another. "News is you're from different timeline."
"Ah. Well, then it's true. Now, can I get back to my salad?" You self-righteous, arrogant murderer! And yoooouuuu caaaan't reeeaadd my miiinndd!!
"News also is that this," he waived his hand as if to encompass his whole reality with it, "this is just a comic book there."
"Hmm, you have abnormally accurate gossips. Are you done?"
He grinned at her, something in his eyes sparking. He leaned forward, swinging his feet to the floor. "Nope. What I want to know is, what do you know about me?"
Oh, God. This won't end well. Still giving the appearance of being in control, she took a bite of her chicken, then calmly wiped her mouth. "I'd be very careful, Quentin. From what I understand, murdering is as big a crime here as where I come from."
His smile disappeared. "And what will you do about it? You're powers haven't even developed yet!"
God, I'm sorry for the time I snuck out and went to Chicago for the concert, please don't let me die…"Careful, Quentin. Wouldn't want anyone to think you're threatening me, now would we? And you don't want to know what I'll do. Trust me." I'll scream and run like hell, but I'm not telling you that!
"Now, I think my dinner's getting cold."
Glaring, he stood up, shoving the table as he did so, and stalked out of the cafeteria.
Her hands shaking, Leslie quickly took her tray up and ran back to her room.
That night the blackness came back. It was deeper than before, thicker. Instead of tearing me, it entered me, filling my lungs and stomach. I thought I was dead, my body convulsing, freezing.
And then I heard the laughter…
'
Gasping, Leslie sat up in bed, staring straight in front of her. Covering her mouth, she ran out of her room and to the bathroom. She emptied her stomach, tears running down her face, trying not to make any noise. Oh God oh God oh God…don't let it be real…
She finally managed to stand up, her thin legs wobbly. She went over to the locker that held her things and grabbed her toothbrush. She brushed her teeth viciously, trying to get the horrible taste out, trying to wash away the memory.
Still shaking, she splashed water on her face. Wiping it off, she glance in the mirror. Her reflection was that of a mad woman, eyes wide, skin pale and taunt over her bony face.
Still shaking, but some calmer, she headed back to her room. Closing the door behind her, she climbed back under the covers, trying to fall back asleep.
But this time she left her reading lamp on.
A/N: What'd ya think? A little shorter, but it would have been much longer if I hadn't stopped it here, and would have taken forever to finish. By the way, does anyone have any ideas for what Leslie's power should be? I know what her mutation is going to be, but not her power, and I know that makes no sense now, but it will.