Flash
Damaged Demonic Angel
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Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor
Summary: Professor X has been recruiting a lot of new students lately, and there is one in particular that seems to be having a bit of trouble. And on top of that, she can't seem to decide where her loyalties lie.
Author's Note: Where all the romance is going will confuse you. Don't try to make assumptions. This takes place one year after all the…stuff. So Scott and Jean are out of school and all that. Also, some events from the TV show have been taken into consideration and ignored. Don't shoot me. This is a fanfic, and I can ignore whatever events would mess with the story. And the way Cerebro works is the way it worked in the movie…LEAVE ME ALONE. And you know how Sweet Briar always masks where she lives by using Soaring, RI? Well, I'm doing the same. Hey, she's my best friend. I'LL RIP HER OFF IF I WANT. AHAHAHAAHA.
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution or anything, yadayada. The new recruits are mine.
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Chapter One:
Professor Charles Xavier, head of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, fit the helmet onto his head and engaged Cerebro. Suddenly it was as if he were floating through space, surrounded by bright red stars. In actuality, the red lights represented every mutant on the planet earth. Professor X had initially gone to use the machine because Evan Daniels, also known as Spyke, had been missing the previous day; and he had suspicions about the holes that had appeared in the kitchen walls overnight. Before he could locate Evan, though, something interesting caught his eye.
He zoomed in to get a better look at the mutant girl. She was young, but older than Evan. She was sleeping at the moment, judging by her position, on a couch. At random intervals, she would twitch slightly, and one of her fingers would emit a tiny spark. Her sleep was not peaceful.
Abandoning his search for Evan for the time being, Professor X took in all the information he could find on the girl, and pulled off the helmet. He quietly left the room and headed down to foyer.
It was the middle of the day, so most of the people who lived in the Institute were at Bayville High or Junior High. The building was for the most part empty except for Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Logan, Ororo Munroe, and Hank McCoy. Professor X send out a mental note to each of them and told them to meet him as soon as possible.
"What is it?" Logan asked, stepping into the light. He was accompanied by the others. A piece of fruit was impaled on one of his claws. "Did you find Evan? 'Cause I'm gonna make him pay for all those holes in the wall. I can't waste my day fixing walls!"
"That isn't it, Logan," Professor X said, trying to calm him down. "It has nothing to do with that, actually. I was trying to find Evan using Cerebro, but then I found another mutant – a fifteen-year-old named Klara Larten. From what I saw, it seems her abilities center around electricity. Can you imagine what would happen if she lost control?"
"Yeah," Logan said, "and I don't think we need a bunch of kids getting fried."
Ororo stepped forward. She was a young, beautiful African woman with snowy white hair. "What would you like us to do about her?"
"I was thinking I'd send Scott and Jean off as soon as possible to recruit her. I believe she would benefit here."
"Where exactly does she live, Professor?" Jean Grey inquired.
"Soaring, Rhode Island. At the moment she attends Soaring High School as a sophomore. She's home right now, though. She might not be feeling too well, but the sooner we get her here the better."
Scott Summers stepped forward enthusiastically, clenching his hand into a fist. "You got it, Professor! Should I go fire up the jet?"
Professor X paused. "I was thinking you could go in a more…inconspicuous way."
Scott drew back, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, of course."
"The train could get you there in about three hours. I can pay for the ticket fee there and back. Good luck."
[ - .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. - ]
Just over three hours later, Scott and Jean arrived at their destination – a small train station in Soaring, Rhode Island, literally only a minute away from a large mall. They hailed one of the few taxi's and told the driver to take them to the street the Professor had instructed them to go to. They were there within ten minutes, paid the taxi and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"He says she lives in…that house, right over there," Scott said, looking at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand for the address. Klara lived near a hospital, in a white three-story apartment. Their door was on the left.
Jean stepped forward and pressed on the rusty doorbell with her index finger. She waited a minute, with no reply except for a dog yipping in the background.
"They're either paranoid about answering doors or they're ignoring us," Jean said, aggravated.
"Hold on," Scott said, "maybe their doorbell is just broken. It looks really old." He leaned over and rang the doorbell to the adjoining residence. Less than a minute later the door opened, revealing a short, blonde-haired woman in her fifties.
"Hello?"
"Uh, hi. I'm Scott Summers and this is Jean Grey. We were wondering if you knew the other people who live in this apartment."
"Oh yeah," she said. "The second floor is empty, and my sister, her husband, and their daughter live on the third floor."
"Well, that's who we're supposed to see – their daughter, Klara," Jean said. "But no one will answer the doorbell."
The woman motioned with her hand. "Oh, that old thing? It's been broken for over ten years. There's a staircase from our floor to Klara's in the back that you can take."
"Right, um…thanks for your help." Scott tried to sound polite, but it was awkward. He headed to the back of the house as fast as he could, Jean trailing behind him. Right next to the door, at the kitchen table, was an old woman watching TV who paid them no attention. They ignored her, opened the door, and headed up the staircase.
"Hold it," Jean said, grabbing at the back of Scott's shirt as he headed to the top of the stairs. "We can't just barge in there without knocking. There was a door back there."
"It was open," Scott retorted.
"I'm not sure many visitors come up this way," Jean said condescendingly, and knocked on the door.
There was silence, and Jean was sure she heard someone gasp. "Mom," someone said after a few seconds, "I think our house is haunted."
"Don't be ridiculous," came another voice. "Who's there?"
Scott and Jean trudged up the remaining stairs. "Sorry to alarm you," Scott said to the red-haired woman. "Your sister let us in. I'm Scott Summers and this is Jean Grey. We're from the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters."
"Xavier Institute?" Mrs. Larten repeated skeptically. "I've never heard of such a place, and I never asked them to send over two preaching teenagers."
Her husband was on the couch with their daughter, holding her. Klara's eyes, a strange golden-orange color, were wide open in surprise.
"We're not preaching," Scott muttered under his breath. Jean elbowed him in the side.
Mrs. Larten continued to stare at them with odd, birdlike eyes, and added, "What kind of gifted youngsters are you talking about?"
Jean shifted nervously. "Not the kind you're thinking about."
"We're all for sending Klara to a school for overachievers," Mr. Larten said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "She is one, after all."
Klara suddenly looked sick, and focused her gaze on the discolored floor. Scott and Jean were becoming even more uneasy by the second.
"The kind of gifted people that are taken into the Institute…" Scott began, "aren't overachievers, and would be shunned by just about everyone if word ever got out as to why they're gifted. In other words…they're not exactly normal."
Mrs. Larten leapt over to the couch, as if to shield her husband and daughter. "Klara is perfectly normal! We've been trying to enforce that into her for her whole life! Don't you go putting ideas into her head!" She pointed an accusing finger at the two. "Get out of my house, now!"
Jean chanced a glance over at Klara. She was noticeably shaking in her father's grip. "Let me show you what he means," she said calmly. A candlestick that had been positioned on the coffee table floated three feet into the air. Mr. Larten's grip on Klara tightened even more, and her trembling became more fierce.
"Freaks!" he shouted. "Do as my wife says! Get out of my house!"
Klara suddenly let out a gasp and closed her eyes, a tear dripping down her face. In the next second, her father was screaming in pain, and had released his hold on her. Klara stared at him, horrified, as strands of her hair stood on end.
"That's her gift!" Jean declared. "If we don't take her in, she won't learn how to control it. Can you handle things like that happening whenever she's afraid or surprised?"
The fear that had been in Mr. Larten's eyes dissolved into another unreadable expression. He stared at Klara, daring her to take another step towards him. Mrs. Larten's reaction was similar. There was a long and painful pause as they stared her down.
"Take her."
Klara's mouth hung open. Jean and Scott looked at her parents, shocked. Scott was first to recompose himself.
"What did you just say?"
"Take her," Mrs. Larten repeated. "We value a sense of normality around here. This girl cannot be our daughter."
"This girl isn't our daughter," Mr. Larten added coldly. Klara's eyes welled up with tears, while Scott and Jean stood, dumbfounded. They hadn't expected this much.
"You're just…disowning me?" Klara whimpered, an electrical current conflicting with the tears on her face.
Mrs. Larten glared for a moment, and then pointed towards the door. "You were never ours." With that, she turned her back.
[ - .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. - ]
Klara cried for half of the four-hour ride home. Scott and Jean didn't even bother trying to console her. Better to let her be alone for a moment, they decided. Two and a half hours into the ride, she dried the last of her tears on her sleeve. She stared down at her lap for a while, silent, before raising her head and addressing the two.
"Why did you come after me?" she choked out, her voice distorted due to her sobbing.
"We couldn't leave you there with no control over your gift," Scott said. "Didn't you know what was happening to you?"
Klara nodded. "Of course I did. I couldn't tell them, though. I liked it, but I didn't know how to control it. I was scared to even pet my dog." She lowered her head. "I wouldn't touch anyone for a while. I was afraid I would hurt them." In the midst of her despair, Scott could hear the tell-tale zaps of an electrical current.
"Try to calm down," Jean said nervously. "We don't exactly know what you're capable of. You could probably blow up this entire train."
"Jean," Scott said, "I don't think that's going to calm her nerves."
Sure enough, Klara was staring out the window, tense. Scott sighed and sat back in his chair. They were silent for the rest of the ride.
[ - .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. - ]
As they arrived at the train station in Bayville, New York, Klara slung her bag over her shoulder. It was all she needed, as many things would be supplied at the Institute. Despite that, her bag was overloaded and heavy. Her laptop carried most of the weight.
It was late – past eleven at night. All the teenagers at the Institute were either fast asleep, or staring up at their ceilings trying to fight insomnia. As soon as Scott and Jean handed Klara over to the Professor, they too headed off to their rooms. She was left in the foyer with Charles Xavier, Logan, Ororo, and Hank. She glanced around uncomfortably before speaking.
"It's your fault I don't have a home to go back to, you know," she said defiantly.
Professor X sighed and nodded. "I know that, Klara. But we had to bring you here. There's still time for your parents to consider what they've said and revoke their decision to disown you. If we hadn't brought you here, you could have very well killed them at any time."
Klara hung her head. She knew he was right, no matter how badly she wanted to deny it. Once again, she fought back tears. Crying wasn't something she often let herself do.
"So what happens to me now?"
Professor X waved a hand at Ororo, who stepped forward. "Ororo will take you to your room. We have many extras lest something like this happen. You will find everything you need in there.
"As for tomorrow, I'm going to have Scott take you. I believe you'll like Bayville High. Of course, they won't put you straight to work, but rather have someone show you around and walk you to all your classes."
"Will it be someone from the Institute?" Klara inquired.
"I honestly don't know. The principal, Principal Kelley, will choose from a name generator. It'll be either a sophomore or a junior – someone close to your age. They can't necessarily choose someone you'll be having classes with, as they haven't made out a schedule for you yet."
Klara rested her chin in her right hand, a grin playing across her face. "So you planned this all out while Scott and Jean were away getting me, eh?"
Professor X smiled back and nodded. Klara looked over at Logan and Hank before allowing Ororo to lead her to her room. It was spacious, and decorated as any bedroom in a mansion would be. Of course, Klara had never lived in a mansion before. Ororo quietly exited the room, leaving Klara to marvel at her surroundings. It was almost another hour before she turned the lights out and dropped off to sleep.
[ - .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. - ]
At 7:00 A.M. the next morning, Principal Kelley sat down at the computer in his office. He brushed his brown hair out of his eyes, and logged on.
He knew this girl, Klara Larten, was from the Institute. He also knew that meant she was a mutant. Of course, he couldn't let on that he knew about that yet. Right now he had to concentrate on finding her a student guide.
"Better to match her up with someone of her own kind," he muttered darkly. Against regulation, he set the name generator so that only a few people, selected by him, could be chosen. He entered in all the sophomores and juniors he knew were mutants. That made it sure that Klara would be paired with either Evan Daniels, Kitty Pryde, Todd Tolansky, Kurt Wagner, Winter Vargas, Roberto de Costa, Amara Aquilla, Jubilation Lee, Bobbie Drake, Samuel Guthrie, or Tabitha Smith.
The name generator took a mere five seconds before making its selection. Principal Kelley lowered his glasses and peered at the name flashing on the screen.
Todd Tolansky.