Chapter One
I didn't know how to swim.
It's embarrassing, and it's a little funny, but even when I was almost sixteen years old and on my own, I didn't know how to swim.
I'd never been taught by anyone.
Pathetic, huh?
But that didn't mean I didn't enjoy playing in the water.
I loved it! I enjoyed sitting in the shallow end of lakes and watching children half my age squeal with delight as they dove under feet of water, and I had fun simply basking in the sunlight and letting water lap at my feet. It was relaxing to me.
Oftentimes, on sunny, hot days, you could find me near some fountain or a lake somewhere with a book in my hand (I'd recently developed some kind of long-held-back thirst for reading) with my feet in the water or my entire lower half submerged.
I was doing just that when I met Ororo.
Kind of.
In reality, she kind of met me before I met her.
It was one of those extremely hot days, the ones where the sun beats down so hard that the heat from its rays cascades like water over everything under its sights. The streets were drunkenly hazy with dizzy waves of heat, and kids were basically attacking the ice-cream man.
I was lounging in the pool, sweat streaming down my face, my book lying forgotten on the shore a few feet away, my head throbbing with the endless, suffocating temperatures.
The lake was jam-packed with families sitting on the sand and playing in the water, children splashing and screaming and adults chatting endlessly and slathering sun block on their whining sons and daughters.
I knew I was going to get sunburned, but I couldn't care less; I was feeling too sick and lazy to get up and ask to borrow some.
The lake's water was cool against my flesh, lapping softly over me as I lay my head on the sand, closing my eyes and moaning; why wouldn't this headache go away?
From somewhere nearby I could hear an entire school of teenagers laughing and gossiping as they put on their sunscreen, and as I watched them race to the edge of the water with their friends and playfully push each other into the water, I felt a small twinge of jealousy; by that time, I'd been completely alone and basically ignored for about three weeks, and I was desperate for company.
The hubbub over my 'mysterious kidnapping/murder' had died down since I hadn't been seen in 'so long' (I'd gotten a haircut, lost weight, changed my clothes, and kept a hood over my face; of course I hadn't been seen), so I was back to being worthless, boring, and lonely.
I swallowed back a lump of emotion as I saw a few of the teachers sitting together and laughing, chatting nonchalantly about this and that.
Oh, what I would do for company!
I almost stood and walked over to them, so strong was my desire for friendship and their aura of kindness, but instead I just closed my eyes and lay back down, adjusting the straps of my stolen bathing suit.
Turns out, I didn't have to come to them.
One of THEM came to ME.
It happened when a group of the younger kids ran by me towards the nearby ice-cream man, dollar bills clutched tightly in their fists; they could just taste that thick ice-cream melting in their mouths.
Behind them, one of the teachers followed behind, obviously to keep an eye on things and make sure the children had enough money.
I watched them walk by jealously, wishing I hadn't left my money back at my 'house'; I REALLY wanted some ice-cream.
My eyes opened lazily and I squinted in the sun, trying to see who had spoken.
Just then, the woman stopped and looked back at me, head tilted to one side, "Hi, Honey. Do you want some ice-cream?"
I immediately sat up, stunned; that was creepy.
I looked around me, trying to see who she'd spoken to; I was certain one of her students had stayed behind.
When I realized no one else was there and turned back to her, she was smiling kindly and extending her hand to me welcomingly, "C'mon. I'll get you a cone."
I almost looked behind me once again, and then slowly pointed at myself, "...me?"
She smiled and nodded, "Yes, you. Do you want some ice-cream?"
I swear, my grin must have shone brighter than the sun.
I immediately stood and took her hand, not caring if it may have been juvenile or dumb; I was getting ice-cream, from someone I'd never even met, who hadn't just walked right by me but had acknowledged my existence!
That was a big deal to me.
When we reached the ice-cream truck, we waited in line for a while, during which time she told me that her name was Ororo Monroe and that she taught at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
It all worked for me; all I knew was that she was nice and that she'd bought me some ice cream.
Now, maybe that's just a stupid thing to you.
Maybe that's just no biggie for you if someone comes up and buys you an iucecrewam cone.
But in my entire life, I had been shown very little kindness, and therefore, even small favors doted on me were magnified in my mind's eye.
Later, when I was sitting on Ororo's blanket, surrounded by chatter and trying to eat my chocolate ice-cream before the sun melted it all, I secretly inspected my newest hero.
She was certainly very stunning, with creamy mocha skin and a well-formed figure that was made harmlessly obvious by the pretty-yet-simple white skirt and red blouse she wore. Her hair was thick and gleaming, reminiscent of the clouds of vapor that rise form the bottom of a waterfall once it hits a pool of water. Her electric blue eyes were focused on her long nails, which were painted scarlet, but when she sensed me looking at her, they turned to me.
My heart started and I turned away, cheeks burning.
She simply smiled, "Are you enjoying that?"
She gestured at my melted mass of cone and chocolate.
I nodded as I but off a chunk, "Mmmm. Thank you again."
"You're very welcome."
Kurt Wagner, one of the other teachers Ororo had introduced me to, handed me a napkin and chuckled, "Mien Freund, you eat that as if you've never tasted ice-cream before in your life!"
I laughed along with him, thinking, "If only you knew, Pal."; I can count the number of times I've had ice-cream on one hand.
Remy LeBeau, the only other man I'd been introduced to, leaned back on his elbows and stretched before drawling, "So, Chere, what you doin here all by yo'self? Don' you have any pa'ents?"
I choked on the remainder of my cone.
SOMEONE just HAD to bring that up, right?
To my surprise, the only other adult woman there (She'd been introduced as Jean Grey-Summers) replied, "She doesn't have any parents."
Everyone stared at her, of course, but I gazed at her the hardest and sputtered, "How did you...I mean...what do you...are you...?"
She smiled slightly, "It's ok, Rachael. I know already. So does everyone else."
"We do?" Remy asked, eyeing me suspiciously, "Not all of us be telepaths, Jean."
Kurt, seeming just as confused, frowned slightly, "What do you mean, Jean? How would we know about Rachael?"
"Cuz she's the kid we've been lookin' for since two weeks ago."
I looked up sharply, not realizing that a man had been standing behind me.
Jean nodded slightly in acknowledgement, "Exactly, Logan."
Logan uncurled his arms from his chest and stretched slightly, "She's Rachael Catherine Johansen, the kid who was supposedly murdered in her car while her mom was checking into a hotel. 'Member?"
Enlightenment dawned on everyone's faces, and they leaned in to get a better look at me.
My face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety; this was starting to get just a little bit uncomfortable.
I leaned back into Ororo, turning my face away, "How...how do you all know about me?"
Logan took a long drag on his cigarette before answering, "I recognized your scent. Jeannie here knew it was you from your brainwaves. We're mutants." He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out as he nodded at me, "Like you."
I stared at him for a second, trying not to appear like I was shocked, and then turned away, "So...why are you all looking for me?"
"Rachael you've heard of the X-Men haven't you?"
My head snapped up so suddenly that I kinked my neck; with my heart thudding in my mouth and my blood throbbing, I slowly nodded, rubbing my sore neck.
"You know that they fight for mutant-human peace and that they're Magneto's arch nemeses, but they do more than just fight and live super hero lives. They also teach at a school...OUR school, called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It's a place where mutant children and teens don't have to be ridiculed and persecuted for their powers and abilities. It's somewhere that they can be safe and learn to control their abilities and use them for good."
"So...so these...the...X-Men...they're teachers, and they recruit kids for a school...their school...that they teach at...?"
I knew I was starting to ramble on, but this was just getting creepy.
I'd been trying hard to shove aside my encounter with Mystique as just some psycho group's idea of a practical joke.
Now it was looking more and more as if it was real, and I was going to have to have my foretold 'destiny' unfold.
I shook my head to scatter my thoughts, realizing that Jean was still talking, "...never force them to come, but I really think it would be a good idea, since your powers are starting to manifest themselves."
I blinked, and then swallowed, "So...uh...the X-Men wanna...you want me to...come to that school?"
The group laughed as Jean replied with a simple, "Yes."
I smiled weakly as I began to sit up, toppling once or twice but standing with help from Ororo and Kurt, "Well...umm...it sounds really cool...and...I'd really...like to...hear more...and...well...can I...think on it?"
"Of course. You don't have to make a decision right now. I know this is all a little sudden. Ororo and I probably should have gone about this a little differently..."
The two men exchanged guilty glances.
I glanced down at Ororo, "Huh?"
She chuckled, "Well, we've been watching you really closely for the past few days, and when we saw you come to the beach, we decided it would be a good field trip for all of us. We came down here and let the students play around, and after a while, I came over and just 'absently' HAPPENED to pass by you, and then I asked if you wanted ice-cream...so you wouldn't be scared of me...or anything of that sort..."
She gave me a guilty look, "I'm sorry, Rachael. We just want you to be safe, is all."
Kurt nodded in agreement, looking just as blameworthy, "Yes, Frauliegn. It's really quite a dangerous place for you to be alone. The city is a big place, filled with many dangers."
Remy nodded in agreement, "The elf is right, Chere. You never know who—or WHAT—you might bump into."
I agreed with them both there.
"Will you at least consider what we've said?" Jean asked slowly, her eyes searching me carefully, "We won't force you to do anything you don't want to, but it really is in your best interest."
Now, under normal circumstances, I w0ould leapt at the chance to go to some special school where I'd be safe from my mom and anyone else. I mean, let's get real: the way they explained it, it sounded like I'd get my own room, a good education (I cared about that, since I'd never gotten one), decent food, maybe a few friends, AND I'd get to live with superheroes.
Learning AND adventure.
Nice.
But in the back of my mind I remembered about Mystique and how much she hated these people—this sweet group of teachers who'd just shared their blanket and icecream with a complete stranger and offered to take me in.
They sounded like they did this a lot.
That made me feel guilty, knowing that if I DID go to that school, I'd wind up as a spy; Mystique would find me, somehow, and I knew she'd get me on her side somehow.
Still, what harm could THINKING about it do?
So I agreed to that much, bidding them farewell, telling them I just needed some time alone.
I wandered off to a slightly secluded area of the bustling beach and settled down into the water, closing my eyes and sighing.
Somehow I managed to sink into a half-asleep state, one in which I could feel the sun's beams sinking into my flesh, but wasn't uncomfortable from the heat; one in which I could smell the fresh air and taste the salty water on my lips, but wasn't afraid of drowning; one in which I could hear the screams of laughter and playing slowly begin to change into shrieks of terror...
My eyes snapped open and I sat up, gasping as I felt a sudden, cold wind bite through my wet body.
It had obviously been a while, as many families had packed up to leave and clouds had rushed in, bringing with them buckets of rain just waiting to cascade over the hurrying people below; already, water was drizzling over my face.
However, that wasn't what had me worried; a little rain never hurt anyone.
A long ways out, maybe halfway to the middle of the lake, a group of people—no, kids—were struggling, crying out for help.
Already, many adults had some of them in their arms and were fighting to swim ashore, while still others held back panic-stricken parents.
It looked like everything was under control and I wasn't needed; I probably should have just ignored the five-year-old girl sobbing a few feet away form me as she clutched a well-worn, slippery boulder.
I watched her for a second, looking around to see if anyone could help; that was when her hands fell away from the rock and her head disappeared underwater.
Right. Now I'm just supposed to let her die, right?
With a loud curse and without even thinking (obviously) I leapt into the now-freezing water, somehow managing to paddle my way over to the shadowy area where the child had just been.
It was a lot deeper over there, to the point that the sand slipped away from under my feet and my head sunk underwater, but I pushed myself up and clutched onto the slippery surface of whatever I could find, looking desperately around for some sign of the girl.
As it turns out, she found me first.
Soon as I reached the spot she'd been, and as soon as she managed to battle her way to the surface, she attacked me, screaming for help and wailing.
As she threw herself at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, I felt my control slip away and we both were dragged underwater.
Being held underwater by a terrified little girl is definitely one of the more frightening experiences I've ever had in my life. The water was everywhere at once, sucking us both down into the depths of the lake, pushing in from all sides and squeezing the air from our lungs.
As soon as my feet hit the bottom, I gave an almighty kick and struggled to the surface, trying to pry the girl's arms from around my throat so I could take in a breath. I was unsuccessful, of course, but at least she was able to scream loud enough for someone onshore to hear her.
I heard a few startled yells and the sound of people running through the water, and at first my hopes rose, but then we were jerked under again, and water rushed into my mouth and nose. I panicked, having never had the experience of stinging lake water crashing to my lungs, so I opened my mouth to spit it out and wound up sucking more in.
That about did it for me.
Both the little girl and I started flailing desperately, trying to get air anyway we could, just wishing to get the heck outta there.
Now, I'm really not sure what on earth happened, but I somehow managed to pull myself together long enough to push her above me so she would be seen first and be rescued, and I tried to kick up again from the bottom, but no matter which way I went, there was just more water.
Eventually, the kid slid out of my arms, and I didn't know if she'd passed out and fallen to her death or if someone had found her and taken her to safety.
All I knew was that my lungs were screaming for breath and my brain seemed to have short-circuited; all it was doing was screaming at me to breathe. I was pushing against the water as hard as I could, starting sob in fear, really starting to wish (not for the first or last time) that I'd never even left my mom's stupid car.
Those last few minutes were sheer agony, not in physical terms, but simply in mental and emotional; there's nothing worse than being completely alone at the dark depths of a lake, knowing that you're probably going to be left there and knowing that no one knows who you are or where you're from.
It was enough to make anyone go nuts.
Luckily, after a few seconds, my brain started to fog up and my blood froze, calming me a lot more than I thought was possible.
All I really remember after that is closing my eyes, sighing, and realizing that no air came out.
Just more water.
Whoa.
I look around, hugging my chest and shivering, walking over the rain- drenched sand, to where the crowds of people are.
What's everyone doing here? Why do they look so scared?
I slowly duck and weave my way through the whispering people, the sounds of urgent voices and sobbing echoing to my ears.
Finally, the group in front of me parts, and I see myself lying on the sand, my face pale and my lips blue, my entire body limp and drenched with water. It is raining on everyone, but nobody cares; they are watching me.
Why?
I slowly look down at my hands and then at my body lying a few feet away from me; what's going on here?
Then I notice Ororo and Remy kneeling next to me, both of them talking to me and begging me to wake up.
I slowly wander over to them and sit down next to myself, tilting my head and shivering; I look like I'm made of wax.
Remy is doing rescue breathing, pausing between breaths to gasp out, "C'mon, Petite, come back to us...come back, petite..."
Ororo has tears rolling down her cheeks and has her hands on my chest; every once in a while she gasps, "Clear!" and presses down on my flesh, hard.
Electric bolts dance from her fingertips and into my chest.
That is Rachael lying there.
Me, Rachael.
Rachael Catherine Johansen is lying on the sand next to me, dead.
And I'm watching her.
How is this happening?
I slowly reach out to touch my cheek; my skin is cold like ice.
I jerk my fingers back as tears pool in my eyes; I don't want to die yet.
I'm only sixteen, I can't go yet.
I still want to learn how to drive and I want to see my mutant powers and get married and have kids.
I can't die.
I can't.
I poke myself in the side, "Get up."
"Clear!"
I see my body jerk with convulsions form the electricity, but I'm still not alive.
"C'mon, wake up!"
I hit her on the chest, hard, "You dope! Wake UP!"
Then I start laughing; cracking up, really.
I'm yelling at myself, beating myself up, calling myself dope; it just seemed so hilarious at that moment.
"CLEAR!"
Ororo's voice is choked with tears.
That gets me mad.
I angrily shake Rachael, "C'mon! Wake up, Stupid! Stop it now! You're not gonna die! It's not time yet! You're too young! Wake up! WAKE UP!"
"CLEAR!"
I feel a sudden bolt of pain shoot through my body and I pause, clutching my chest; what was THAT?
I can suddenly feel a pressure on my lungs, like something is blocking the oxygen that I so desperately need.
The crowd before me is evaporating, and I'm growing dizzy, my eyes rolling back into my head as I try to get to my feet.
I fall then, crashing to the sand and rolling on my back.
My eyes snapped open and the first thing I remember doing is coughing up what felt like the entire lake.
My mouth and throat were both raw and sore, so it felt like spitting up fire when all of that water came out, and I cried like a baby, feeling simply overwhelmed.
Ororo instantly pulled me into her arms and held me, and a lot of people were talking at once, clapping and cheering because I was ok. I hardly noticed any of them, though, because I was still so scared and in pain.
"Ssshh...it's ok," soothed Ororo rocking me in her arms, "You're safe now, Honey. It's alright..."
I'd never had a 'real' mother.
You know that, since you've been reading thus far.
So, of course, I have no clue as to what a real mother would possibly look like, or act like, or talk like.
But at that moment, with an almost-complete stranger cradling me in her arms and brushing my hair back and soothing me, I thought, "This must be what a mom is like."
You can think it's corny, and you can roll your eyes and scoff, but since this is MY story, I'm going to tell you what MY thoughts were.
And that's what I thought.
I was still crying, my 'scared' personality completely in charge, and I was just feeling totally helpless and babyish, but I didn't care at the moment; you try seeing yourself lying dead and then wake up and spit out an entire lake of water and see how you feel.
It was then that Remy stooped before me, pushing his sopping bangs away from his eyes and smiling at me, "You ok, Cherie? You gave Gambit a heart attack, layin dere like a dead fish."
I nodded slowly, allowing his words to slowly sink into my mind; I reacted a little slowly, but finally looked up at him sharply, "D-did...did you just say 'Gambit'?"
He nodded, confused, "Yea. Dat just my nickname, Cherie. Why?"
My hand went instinctively to the 'sunkiss' on my cheek, and I felt myself blush as I smiled softly and averted my eyes, "...no reason."
He seemed a little quizzical at first, but he dropped it eventually, shaking his head as the wailing of sirens began to shatter the still air.
"Who called an ambulance?" Ororo asked quietly as several physicians came running towards us.
Jean narrowed her eyes quizzically, "I don't know..."
Kurt shrugged, "Probably one of the onlookers...this is a good thing, no? Now she will be taken to a hospital and will be safe. Right?"
No one answered as a young medical officer took me from Ororo's arms and laid me on a stretcher, strapping me down and sliding an oxygen mask over my face.
He smiled at me warmly and patted my cheek with his gloved hand, "You're gonna be ok, Honey."
"I want Ororo to come," I replied quickly, heart thudding against my chest as his partners lifted the stretcher and began to take me to the ambulance.
The young man frowned in confusion, "Which one's Ororo?"
"The one with white hair."
By then I was being slid into the ambulance and being introduced to the nurses onboard, but I know for certain that the man told Ororo to come; she appeared at my side as one of the nurses slid an IV into my wrist.
I smiled when I saw her, and then cried out sharply as the needle entered my veins, earning a rushed apology from the medical staff.
Ororo took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "You ok?"
I nodded weakly, starting feel indescribably sleepy.
"Vitals steady; increase oxygen to sixty; IV in?"
The medical jabber was almost as overwhelming as the smell of alcohol.
"What's gonna happen?" I asked Ororo weakly, "What are they gonna do?"
"They're just going to make sure you're ok, Honey. They'll release you soon enough. I promise. They just need to make sure you're ok."
"I'm fine," I muttered, yawning, "...just...tired..."
"Vitals normal; increase oxygen to eighty."
My brain was swimming with exhaustion; my eyelids seemed weighed down with sand.
I slowly looked around the ambulance, watching the doctors as they adjusted machines and attached different tubes tpo me; it all seemed so unreal.
One nurse in particular caught my eye; there was just something about her that seemed so familiar.
I studied her for awhile, racking my sleepy mind for any memory that had her in it.
Eventually, she came over holding an alcohol-drenched cotton ball and some kind of injection; she smiled at me sympathetically, "Ok, Sweetness. This is just gonna sting for a second, ok? Then you won't feel a thing."
Her voice was eerily familiar too.
It was when she was cleaning off my arm for the shot that I knew who she was.
I turned to Ororo sharply, my mouth going dry, "Ororo! She's...she's..."
I trailed off as Ororo raised her eyebrows questioningly, blue eyes flashing bright yellow for a second.
Her lips curled into a vehement sneer as the ambulance around me began to fade away, replaced by the interior of a spacious, dimly-lit car.
The rest of the medical people disappeared as well, leaving behind just the one nurse with the vaccination, who was in reality (like I'd finally found out) the blonde chick from my supposed 'nightmare'.
"God, why is this happening?" I screamed, only to find out I had a cloth tied around my mouth.
"Because you just aren't easy to work with, Doll," the 'nurse' replied, and then jabbed me with the needle.
I looked over to Mystique and gave her a pitiful look, "Why are you doing this to me? I wanna go home! Just let me go home! PLEASE!"
She just snickered at me and spoke to the other woman, "Be sure to get it all in her blood, Reagan; otherwise, she'll wake up too soon."
Well, at least now I knew the lady's name.
Reagan.
How nice.
Too bad the character didn't fit the description.
"I wanna go home," I moaned, "I wanna go home...let me go, please? Please let me go home! Please..."
My eyes slowly began to droop shut, my earlier fatigue attacking with ten times as much power.
"I wanna go home...please...just let me go..."
At one point, I felt one of the two (Mystique or Reagan) lean over me and kiss my forehead sardonically before hissing, "Sweet dreams, Dearest."
"...wanna go home..."
I fell asleep whispering those same words over and over.
I didn't know how to swim.
It's embarrassing, and it's a little funny, but even when I was almost sixteen years old and on my own, I didn't know how to swim.
I'd never been taught by anyone.
Pathetic, huh?
But that didn't mean I didn't enjoy playing in the water.
I loved it! I enjoyed sitting in the shallow end of lakes and watching children half my age squeal with delight as they dove under feet of water, and I had fun simply basking in the sunlight and letting water lap at my feet. It was relaxing to me.
Oftentimes, on sunny, hot days, you could find me near some fountain or a lake somewhere with a book in my hand (I'd recently developed some kind of long-held-back thirst for reading) with my feet in the water or my entire lower half submerged.
I was doing just that when I met Ororo.
Kind of.
In reality, she kind of met me before I met her.
It was one of those extremely hot days, the ones where the sun beats down so hard that the heat from its rays cascades like water over everything under its sights. The streets were drunkenly hazy with dizzy waves of heat, and kids were basically attacking the ice-cream man.
I was lounging in the pool, sweat streaming down my face, my book lying forgotten on the shore a few feet away, my head throbbing with the endless, suffocating temperatures.
The lake was jam-packed with families sitting on the sand and playing in the water, children splashing and screaming and adults chatting endlessly and slathering sun block on their whining sons and daughters.
I knew I was going to get sunburned, but I couldn't care less; I was feeling too sick and lazy to get up and ask to borrow some.
The lake's water was cool against my flesh, lapping softly over me as I lay my head on the sand, closing my eyes and moaning; why wouldn't this headache go away?
From somewhere nearby I could hear an entire school of teenagers laughing and gossiping as they put on their sunscreen, and as I watched them race to the edge of the water with their friends and playfully push each other into the water, I felt a small twinge of jealousy; by that time, I'd been completely alone and basically ignored for about three weeks, and I was desperate for company.
The hubbub over my 'mysterious kidnapping/murder' had died down since I hadn't been seen in 'so long' (I'd gotten a haircut, lost weight, changed my clothes, and kept a hood over my face; of course I hadn't been seen), so I was back to being worthless, boring, and lonely.
I swallowed back a lump of emotion as I saw a few of the teachers sitting together and laughing, chatting nonchalantly about this and that.
Oh, what I would do for company!
I almost stood and walked over to them, so strong was my desire for friendship and their aura of kindness, but instead I just closed my eyes and lay back down, adjusting the straps of my stolen bathing suit.
Turns out, I didn't have to come to them.
One of THEM came to ME.
It happened when a group of the younger kids ran by me towards the nearby ice-cream man, dollar bills clutched tightly in their fists; they could just taste that thick ice-cream melting in their mouths.
Behind them, one of the teachers followed behind, obviously to keep an eye on things and make sure the children had enough money.
I watched them walk by jealously, wishing I hadn't left my money back at my 'house'; I REALLY wanted some ice-cream.
My eyes opened lazily and I squinted in the sun, trying to see who had spoken.
Just then, the woman stopped and looked back at me, head tilted to one side, "Hi, Honey. Do you want some ice-cream?"
I immediately sat up, stunned; that was creepy.
I looked around me, trying to see who she'd spoken to; I was certain one of her students had stayed behind.
When I realized no one else was there and turned back to her, she was smiling kindly and extending her hand to me welcomingly, "C'mon. I'll get you a cone."
I almost looked behind me once again, and then slowly pointed at myself, "...me?"
She smiled and nodded, "Yes, you. Do you want some ice-cream?"
I swear, my grin must have shone brighter than the sun.
I immediately stood and took her hand, not caring if it may have been juvenile or dumb; I was getting ice-cream, from someone I'd never even met, who hadn't just walked right by me but had acknowledged my existence!
That was a big deal to me.
When we reached the ice-cream truck, we waited in line for a while, during which time she told me that her name was Ororo Monroe and that she taught at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
It all worked for me; all I knew was that she was nice and that she'd bought me some ice cream.
Now, maybe that's just a stupid thing to you.
Maybe that's just no biggie for you if someone comes up and buys you an iucecrewam cone.
But in my entire life, I had been shown very little kindness, and therefore, even small favors doted on me were magnified in my mind's eye.
Later, when I was sitting on Ororo's blanket, surrounded by chatter and trying to eat my chocolate ice-cream before the sun melted it all, I secretly inspected my newest hero.
She was certainly very stunning, with creamy mocha skin and a well-formed figure that was made harmlessly obvious by the pretty-yet-simple white skirt and red blouse she wore. Her hair was thick and gleaming, reminiscent of the clouds of vapor that rise form the bottom of a waterfall once it hits a pool of water. Her electric blue eyes were focused on her long nails, which were painted scarlet, but when she sensed me looking at her, they turned to me.
My heart started and I turned away, cheeks burning.
She simply smiled, "Are you enjoying that?"
She gestured at my melted mass of cone and chocolate.
I nodded as I but off a chunk, "Mmmm. Thank you again."
"You're very welcome."
Kurt Wagner, one of the other teachers Ororo had introduced me to, handed me a napkin and chuckled, "Mien Freund, you eat that as if you've never tasted ice-cream before in your life!"
I laughed along with him, thinking, "If only you knew, Pal."; I can count the number of times I've had ice-cream on one hand.
Remy LeBeau, the only other man I'd been introduced to, leaned back on his elbows and stretched before drawling, "So, Chere, what you doin here all by yo'self? Don' you have any pa'ents?"
I choked on the remainder of my cone.
SOMEONE just HAD to bring that up, right?
To my surprise, the only other adult woman there (She'd been introduced as Jean Grey-Summers) replied, "She doesn't have any parents."
Everyone stared at her, of course, but I gazed at her the hardest and sputtered, "How did you...I mean...what do you...are you...?"
She smiled slightly, "It's ok, Rachael. I know already. So does everyone else."
"We do?" Remy asked, eyeing me suspiciously, "Not all of us be telepaths, Jean."
Kurt, seeming just as confused, frowned slightly, "What do you mean, Jean? How would we know about Rachael?"
"Cuz she's the kid we've been lookin' for since two weeks ago."
I looked up sharply, not realizing that a man had been standing behind me.
Jean nodded slightly in acknowledgement, "Exactly, Logan."
Logan uncurled his arms from his chest and stretched slightly, "She's Rachael Catherine Johansen, the kid who was supposedly murdered in her car while her mom was checking into a hotel. 'Member?"
Enlightenment dawned on everyone's faces, and they leaned in to get a better look at me.
My face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety; this was starting to get just a little bit uncomfortable.
I leaned back into Ororo, turning my face away, "How...how do you all know about me?"
Logan took a long drag on his cigarette before answering, "I recognized your scent. Jeannie here knew it was you from your brainwaves. We're mutants." He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out as he nodded at me, "Like you."
I stared at him for a second, trying not to appear like I was shocked, and then turned away, "So...why are you all looking for me?"
"Rachael you've heard of the X-Men haven't you?"
My head snapped up so suddenly that I kinked my neck; with my heart thudding in my mouth and my blood throbbing, I slowly nodded, rubbing my sore neck.
"You know that they fight for mutant-human peace and that they're Magneto's arch nemeses, but they do more than just fight and live super hero lives. They also teach at a school...OUR school, called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It's a place where mutant children and teens don't have to be ridiculed and persecuted for their powers and abilities. It's somewhere that they can be safe and learn to control their abilities and use them for good."
"So...so these...the...X-Men...they're teachers, and they recruit kids for a school...their school...that they teach at...?"
I knew I was starting to ramble on, but this was just getting creepy.
I'd been trying hard to shove aside my encounter with Mystique as just some psycho group's idea of a practical joke.
Now it was looking more and more as if it was real, and I was going to have to have my foretold 'destiny' unfold.
I shook my head to scatter my thoughts, realizing that Jean was still talking, "...never force them to come, but I really think it would be a good idea, since your powers are starting to manifest themselves."
I blinked, and then swallowed, "So...uh...the X-Men wanna...you want me to...come to that school?"
The group laughed as Jean replied with a simple, "Yes."
I smiled weakly as I began to sit up, toppling once or twice but standing with help from Ororo and Kurt, "Well...umm...it sounds really cool...and...I'd really...like to...hear more...and...well...can I...think on it?"
"Of course. You don't have to make a decision right now. I know this is all a little sudden. Ororo and I probably should have gone about this a little differently..."
The two men exchanged guilty glances.
I glanced down at Ororo, "Huh?"
She chuckled, "Well, we've been watching you really closely for the past few days, and when we saw you come to the beach, we decided it would be a good field trip for all of us. We came down here and let the students play around, and after a while, I came over and just 'absently' HAPPENED to pass by you, and then I asked if you wanted ice-cream...so you wouldn't be scared of me...or anything of that sort..."
She gave me a guilty look, "I'm sorry, Rachael. We just want you to be safe, is all."
Kurt nodded in agreement, looking just as blameworthy, "Yes, Frauliegn. It's really quite a dangerous place for you to be alone. The city is a big place, filled with many dangers."
Remy nodded in agreement, "The elf is right, Chere. You never know who—or WHAT—you might bump into."
I agreed with them both there.
"Will you at least consider what we've said?" Jean asked slowly, her eyes searching me carefully, "We won't force you to do anything you don't want to, but it really is in your best interest."
Now, under normal circumstances, I w0ould leapt at the chance to go to some special school where I'd be safe from my mom and anyone else. I mean, let's get real: the way they explained it, it sounded like I'd get my own room, a good education (I cared about that, since I'd never gotten one), decent food, maybe a few friends, AND I'd get to live with superheroes.
Learning AND adventure.
Nice.
But in the back of my mind I remembered about Mystique and how much she hated these people—this sweet group of teachers who'd just shared their blanket and icecream with a complete stranger and offered to take me in.
They sounded like they did this a lot.
That made me feel guilty, knowing that if I DID go to that school, I'd wind up as a spy; Mystique would find me, somehow, and I knew she'd get me on her side somehow.
Still, what harm could THINKING about it do?
So I agreed to that much, bidding them farewell, telling them I just needed some time alone.
I wandered off to a slightly secluded area of the bustling beach and settled down into the water, closing my eyes and sighing.
Somehow I managed to sink into a half-asleep state, one in which I could feel the sun's beams sinking into my flesh, but wasn't uncomfortable from the heat; one in which I could smell the fresh air and taste the salty water on my lips, but wasn't afraid of drowning; one in which I could hear the screams of laughter and playing slowly begin to change into shrieks of terror...
My eyes snapped open and I sat up, gasping as I felt a sudden, cold wind bite through my wet body.
It had obviously been a while, as many families had packed up to leave and clouds had rushed in, bringing with them buckets of rain just waiting to cascade over the hurrying people below; already, water was drizzling over my face.
However, that wasn't what had me worried; a little rain never hurt anyone.
A long ways out, maybe halfway to the middle of the lake, a group of people—no, kids—were struggling, crying out for help.
Already, many adults had some of them in their arms and were fighting to swim ashore, while still others held back panic-stricken parents.
It looked like everything was under control and I wasn't needed; I probably should have just ignored the five-year-old girl sobbing a few feet away form me as she clutched a well-worn, slippery boulder.
I watched her for a second, looking around to see if anyone could help; that was when her hands fell away from the rock and her head disappeared underwater.
Right. Now I'm just supposed to let her die, right?
With a loud curse and without even thinking (obviously) I leapt into the now-freezing water, somehow managing to paddle my way over to the shadowy area where the child had just been.
It was a lot deeper over there, to the point that the sand slipped away from under my feet and my head sunk underwater, but I pushed myself up and clutched onto the slippery surface of whatever I could find, looking desperately around for some sign of the girl.
As it turns out, she found me first.
Soon as I reached the spot she'd been, and as soon as she managed to battle her way to the surface, she attacked me, screaming for help and wailing.
As she threw herself at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, I felt my control slip away and we both were dragged underwater.
Being held underwater by a terrified little girl is definitely one of the more frightening experiences I've ever had in my life. The water was everywhere at once, sucking us both down into the depths of the lake, pushing in from all sides and squeezing the air from our lungs.
As soon as my feet hit the bottom, I gave an almighty kick and struggled to the surface, trying to pry the girl's arms from around my throat so I could take in a breath. I was unsuccessful, of course, but at least she was able to scream loud enough for someone onshore to hear her.
I heard a few startled yells and the sound of people running through the water, and at first my hopes rose, but then we were jerked under again, and water rushed into my mouth and nose. I panicked, having never had the experience of stinging lake water crashing to my lungs, so I opened my mouth to spit it out and wound up sucking more in.
That about did it for me.
Both the little girl and I started flailing desperately, trying to get air anyway we could, just wishing to get the heck outta there.
Now, I'm really not sure what on earth happened, but I somehow managed to pull myself together long enough to push her above me so she would be seen first and be rescued, and I tried to kick up again from the bottom, but no matter which way I went, there was just more water.
Eventually, the kid slid out of my arms, and I didn't know if she'd passed out and fallen to her death or if someone had found her and taken her to safety.
All I knew was that my lungs were screaming for breath and my brain seemed to have short-circuited; all it was doing was screaming at me to breathe. I was pushing against the water as hard as I could, starting sob in fear, really starting to wish (not for the first or last time) that I'd never even left my mom's stupid car.
Those last few minutes were sheer agony, not in physical terms, but simply in mental and emotional; there's nothing worse than being completely alone at the dark depths of a lake, knowing that you're probably going to be left there and knowing that no one knows who you are or where you're from.
It was enough to make anyone go nuts.
Luckily, after a few seconds, my brain started to fog up and my blood froze, calming me a lot more than I thought was possible.
All I really remember after that is closing my eyes, sighing, and realizing that no air came out.
Just more water.
Whoa.
I look around, hugging my chest and shivering, walking over the rain- drenched sand, to where the crowds of people are.
What's everyone doing here? Why do they look so scared?
I slowly duck and weave my way through the whispering people, the sounds of urgent voices and sobbing echoing to my ears.
Finally, the group in front of me parts, and I see myself lying on the sand, my face pale and my lips blue, my entire body limp and drenched with water. It is raining on everyone, but nobody cares; they are watching me.
Why?
I slowly look down at my hands and then at my body lying a few feet away from me; what's going on here?
Then I notice Ororo and Remy kneeling next to me, both of them talking to me and begging me to wake up.
I slowly wander over to them and sit down next to myself, tilting my head and shivering; I look like I'm made of wax.
Remy is doing rescue breathing, pausing between breaths to gasp out, "C'mon, Petite, come back to us...come back, petite..."
Ororo has tears rolling down her cheeks and has her hands on my chest; every once in a while she gasps, "Clear!" and presses down on my flesh, hard.
Electric bolts dance from her fingertips and into my chest.
That is Rachael lying there.
Me, Rachael.
Rachael Catherine Johansen is lying on the sand next to me, dead.
And I'm watching her.
How is this happening?
I slowly reach out to touch my cheek; my skin is cold like ice.
I jerk my fingers back as tears pool in my eyes; I don't want to die yet.
I'm only sixteen, I can't go yet.
I still want to learn how to drive and I want to see my mutant powers and get married and have kids.
I can't die.
I can't.
I poke myself in the side, "Get up."
"Clear!"
I see my body jerk with convulsions form the electricity, but I'm still not alive.
"C'mon, wake up!"
I hit her on the chest, hard, "You dope! Wake UP!"
Then I start laughing; cracking up, really.
I'm yelling at myself, beating myself up, calling myself dope; it just seemed so hilarious at that moment.
"CLEAR!"
Ororo's voice is choked with tears.
That gets me mad.
I angrily shake Rachael, "C'mon! Wake up, Stupid! Stop it now! You're not gonna die! It's not time yet! You're too young! Wake up! WAKE UP!"
"CLEAR!"
I feel a sudden bolt of pain shoot through my body and I pause, clutching my chest; what was THAT?
I can suddenly feel a pressure on my lungs, like something is blocking the oxygen that I so desperately need.
The crowd before me is evaporating, and I'm growing dizzy, my eyes rolling back into my head as I try to get to my feet.
I fall then, crashing to the sand and rolling on my back.
My eyes snapped open and the first thing I remember doing is coughing up what felt like the entire lake.
My mouth and throat were both raw and sore, so it felt like spitting up fire when all of that water came out, and I cried like a baby, feeling simply overwhelmed.
Ororo instantly pulled me into her arms and held me, and a lot of people were talking at once, clapping and cheering because I was ok. I hardly noticed any of them, though, because I was still so scared and in pain.
"Ssshh...it's ok," soothed Ororo rocking me in her arms, "You're safe now, Honey. It's alright..."
I'd never had a 'real' mother.
You know that, since you've been reading thus far.
So, of course, I have no clue as to what a real mother would possibly look like, or act like, or talk like.
But at that moment, with an almost-complete stranger cradling me in her arms and brushing my hair back and soothing me, I thought, "This must be what a mom is like."
You can think it's corny, and you can roll your eyes and scoff, but since this is MY story, I'm going to tell you what MY thoughts were.
And that's what I thought.
I was still crying, my 'scared' personality completely in charge, and I was just feeling totally helpless and babyish, but I didn't care at the moment; you try seeing yourself lying dead and then wake up and spit out an entire lake of water and see how you feel.
It was then that Remy stooped before me, pushing his sopping bangs away from his eyes and smiling at me, "You ok, Cherie? You gave Gambit a heart attack, layin dere like a dead fish."
I nodded slowly, allowing his words to slowly sink into my mind; I reacted a little slowly, but finally looked up at him sharply, "D-did...did you just say 'Gambit'?"
He nodded, confused, "Yea. Dat just my nickname, Cherie. Why?"
My hand went instinctively to the 'sunkiss' on my cheek, and I felt myself blush as I smiled softly and averted my eyes, "...no reason."
He seemed a little quizzical at first, but he dropped it eventually, shaking his head as the wailing of sirens began to shatter the still air.
"Who called an ambulance?" Ororo asked quietly as several physicians came running towards us.
Jean narrowed her eyes quizzically, "I don't know..."
Kurt shrugged, "Probably one of the onlookers...this is a good thing, no? Now she will be taken to a hospital and will be safe. Right?"
No one answered as a young medical officer took me from Ororo's arms and laid me on a stretcher, strapping me down and sliding an oxygen mask over my face.
He smiled at me warmly and patted my cheek with his gloved hand, "You're gonna be ok, Honey."
"I want Ororo to come," I replied quickly, heart thudding against my chest as his partners lifted the stretcher and began to take me to the ambulance.
The young man frowned in confusion, "Which one's Ororo?"
"The one with white hair."
By then I was being slid into the ambulance and being introduced to the nurses onboard, but I know for certain that the man told Ororo to come; she appeared at my side as one of the nurses slid an IV into my wrist.
I smiled when I saw her, and then cried out sharply as the needle entered my veins, earning a rushed apology from the medical staff.
Ororo took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "You ok?"
I nodded weakly, starting feel indescribably sleepy.
"Vitals steady; increase oxygen to sixty; IV in?"
The medical jabber was almost as overwhelming as the smell of alcohol.
"What's gonna happen?" I asked Ororo weakly, "What are they gonna do?"
"They're just going to make sure you're ok, Honey. They'll release you soon enough. I promise. They just need to make sure you're ok."
"I'm fine," I muttered, yawning, "...just...tired..."
"Vitals normal; increase oxygen to eighty."
My brain was swimming with exhaustion; my eyelids seemed weighed down with sand.
I slowly looked around the ambulance, watching the doctors as they adjusted machines and attached different tubes tpo me; it all seemed so unreal.
One nurse in particular caught my eye; there was just something about her that seemed so familiar.
I studied her for awhile, racking my sleepy mind for any memory that had her in it.
Eventually, she came over holding an alcohol-drenched cotton ball and some kind of injection; she smiled at me sympathetically, "Ok, Sweetness. This is just gonna sting for a second, ok? Then you won't feel a thing."
Her voice was eerily familiar too.
It was when she was cleaning off my arm for the shot that I knew who she was.
I turned to Ororo sharply, my mouth going dry, "Ororo! She's...she's..."
I trailed off as Ororo raised her eyebrows questioningly, blue eyes flashing bright yellow for a second.
Her lips curled into a vehement sneer as the ambulance around me began to fade away, replaced by the interior of a spacious, dimly-lit car.
The rest of the medical people disappeared as well, leaving behind just the one nurse with the vaccination, who was in reality (like I'd finally found out) the blonde chick from my supposed 'nightmare'.
"God, why is this happening?" I screamed, only to find out I had a cloth tied around my mouth.
"Because you just aren't easy to work with, Doll," the 'nurse' replied, and then jabbed me with the needle.
I looked over to Mystique and gave her a pitiful look, "Why are you doing this to me? I wanna go home! Just let me go home! PLEASE!"
She just snickered at me and spoke to the other woman, "Be sure to get it all in her blood, Reagan; otherwise, she'll wake up too soon."
Well, at least now I knew the lady's name.
Reagan.
How nice.
Too bad the character didn't fit the description.
"I wanna go home," I moaned, "I wanna go home...let me go, please? Please let me go home! Please..."
My eyes slowly began to droop shut, my earlier fatigue attacking with ten times as much power.
"I wanna go home...please...just let me go..."
At one point, I felt one of the two (Mystique or Reagan) lean over me and kiss my forehead sardonically before hissing, "Sweet dreams, Dearest."
"...wanna go home..."
I fell asleep whispering those same words over and over.