Woot! New reviewers! *does a happy dance, resembles something like the
funky chicken* Am I scaring anyone yet?
MoonlightPhoenix3- Aye! I love you! Welcome to my humble abode! *bows* Actually I think I've read 'Paintings of you on my walls' I'm gonna have to go and look again now. Piotr is the coolest anyway! And yeah, he'll be along shortly, once again, but his usage remains a secret known only to me. . . and the evil mole people that live in the back of my closet.
Kerrigan- Wheee! Why thankyou very very much! I love having constant reviewers!
Chapter 7: Trouble Brewing
* * *
"Miss Grey, line one please."
Jean Grey slowly turned around to face the office secretary Mrs. Brenson. She smiled, and flipped her long red hair behind her shoulder.
"Who is it, Mrs. Bronson?"
"Professor Xavier, darling. But remember what I have told you about personal phone calls?"
"Why yes mam, and I'm so terribly sorry. Please forgive me?"
Jean offered the older woman a wonderful smile (A/N: A smile so purely wonderful that one could simply puke when thine eyes were cast upon it. . . but this is my opinion, please don't shoot me.)
She warmly took the phone from Mrs. Brenson and held the receiver to her ear.
"Professor? What's wrong?"
**You know, you could have just summoned me telepathically. Now Mrs. Brenson will just think I'm making social calls.**
"I'm sorry Jean", the older British man said, "But I must have you released from school today. There was an accident this morning, and Scott and Natalie are both being kept in the med bay."
"Oh my goodness."
Jean grew pale, and her willowy features darkened. "I'll get there as soon as I can, Professor."
"Thank you Jean. Now let me speak with Mrs. Brenson."
Jean handed the phone to the other woman.
"Mrs. Brenson's office, how may I help you?"
Jean just stared at her feet, lost in thought, as tears slowly fell and cascaded quietly down her sullen face.
* * *
"Okay class, settle down."
Mr. Ledford leaned out from behind his desk. He grinned.
"Anyone catch the football game last night?"
"Yeah dude it was great!"
Rogue sunk down in her seat. Just some dumb jock and a football coach who had no business teaching. How much worse could life get?
"Eh. . . me pardoner, monsieur, but is this. . ."
Rogue jerked her head up. "Gambit!"
Mr. Ledford got up from where he was sitting, clearly not understanding Rogue's seriousness of the situation.
"Look Mud-Pie, this is Pre-Calculus. Not Gambit. I don't know where you freaks come up with this-"
"Eh. . . monsieur, dis is de right room den, non?"
Gambit held up a slip of paper. Mr. Ledford walked over and quickly examined it.
"Yep, this is it. Got any math skills?"
"Non monsieur, but Remy be willin' to try 'f la belle femme be willin' ta tutor m'."
The Cajun grinned at the young goth as she turned away with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
"I doubt you want her for a tutor, Mr. . ."
He looked at the schedule. "LeBeau?"
"Oui."
"Yeah, okay then. Perhaps Miss Pryde will help you?"
Kitty shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the Cajun man eyed her. He recognized her as the. . . what was the word? Phaser? Ghoster? Whatever. The girl could get out of any tight scrapes. She seemed nice enough, but she wasn't anything like a certain southern belle that had caught his demon eyes. . .
"Mr. LeBeau, would you mind taking a seat?"
"Non, monsieur."
He eyed the geeky kid who occupied the desk next to Rogue.
"What yo' name be, homme?"
"M-me? Well, I-I'm, well-"
"Oui?"
The kid had serious problems. He tugged at his shirt collar, and sweated like he'd just run a marathon. He almost looked like one of those kids he saw back in New Orleans. The ones he'd see one time, in a bad situation, and then the next time the Cajun laid eyes on them, it was on the obituary pages in the paper. . .
"Jim."
"Jim what, monsieur?"
"J-Jim Blystone."
Damn, that kid was a wreck.
"Monsieur, might Remy borrow your seat. . ." He leaned in and smirked at the kid. "Permanently?"
Jim gulped and scooted out of reach, taking his book with him. Remy just grinned and sat in the desk, propping his feet up. He wiggled his eyebrows at Rogue, who just glared back. Mr. Ledford came back and slapped Remy's feet off of the desktop.
"Look, Remy, your feet go on the floor here. I don't care what you'ns did down south, but here we try to act civilized."
Remy stood up and glared at the man. He peered over the tops of his shades. Red and black glowed from beneath them.
"I'd watch what ya say 'rund here, monsieur."
"Oh, great." Rogue mumbled to no one in particular.
* * *
"Professor, professor! Where is he?"
Jean ran into the British man's office, with a frightened and concerned look.
"The med bay. Quickly, go and help Mr. McCoy. I'm sure your presence would be greatly appreciated."
The man smiled at her, and she rushed to the med bay.
* * *
Running. Running so fast. The water. It was everywhere. The teen fell, and blood covered him. What had happened? Natalie was frightened. The boy reached into the pocket of his jeans with a scraped hand, and pulled out a small object, glancing around quickly. Fire came out of this object, and spread like the wildfires she had witnessed back home. She saw shadows about, dancing in the firelight, performing some sort of strange ritual. Who was this boy? She knew this way well. She had passed here before. . .
"Scott!"
Natalie blinked awake. She slowly moved her head, suddenly aware of the stabbing pain in her head and neck.
"Damn whiplash", she muttered.
"Oh Scott! Look at you! I should have been there."
Natalie strained to look and listen, but all she could see was red. Red hair.
"Oooohh, I think I'm gonna hurl."
Jean narrowed her eyes.
"Look I know you don't like me, you don't have to be so rude, Natalie."
Natalie just groaned and rolled over, falling out of bed and onto the hard floor while Jean just watched.
"Uggh. Go find a trashcan."
Jean turned back to Scott, gently stroking his face.
Natalie just sighed, and lay where she had fallen. She didn't feel like getting up. Suddenly to her surprise, Jean telepathically lifted her back onto the bed, and she saw her vomit float to the wastebasket beside Scott's bed. Natalie grimaced and forced her eyes closed. Then Mr. McCoy appeared.
"Jean! I'm so pleased you're taking such good care of our patients!"
"Oh no problem Mr. McCoy!" She offered a warm smile. (A/N: Again, in the words of Scrawler, it makes us want to hurl upon the nice carpets. Please don't shoot me.)
Mr. McCoy just smiled back. "You may stay longer if you'd like."
"Oh, thankyou! Anything for Scott! I just hope he gets better soon."
"In time, my dear. He got hit pretty hard, but it's mostly just his neck. He'll be wearing a brace for a week or two. Natalie should be okay, too."
He smiled at Natalie, who smiled back weakly. "Can I leave now?"
"No, Natalie, spend the night here. You can go to school tomorrow."
She sighed. "Right then. Can I see Mr. Logan?"
"Of course, I'll get him for you. Jean, keep an eye on these two."
"Sure thing, Mr. McCoy." Jean smiled an ever-so-fake smile at Natalie. The southerner just rolled over, back facing Jean.
"I wouldn't act like that if I were you. You'll spend the rest of your life thinking you're in love with a donkey."
Natalie looked back at her slowly. "You'd know all about that wouldn't you?"
"Natalie?"
She looked back to see Mr. Logan. "You wanted to see me, kid?"
"It wasn't the red-head. Mullet boy and Pietro started it. I think. . . I think that boy was trying to save me. He was trying to help me."
She thought for a moment.
"I think I know him. . . the boy from the train! I knew it! But what's he doing here?"
Logan just stared at her.
". . . Right. Thanks. I have something to take care of."
He walked out briskly. Jean just snorted.
"Well, then! Pardon my saying, but as much as I don't like Badger, and as much as I really don't care. . ."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Those Brotherhood creeps better hope that there's an angel nearby by the time Logan gets finished with them."
"That bad, huh?"
"Worse. He's a nightmare."
Natalie just grinned. "Pietro has no idea who he's dealing with."
Jean heard what Natalie was thinking. "You won't do anything, chicken. What can you do?"
Natalie just glared at her. "I'll think of something. But can you do me a favor and not read my mind?"
"Try by not thinking so loud."
Natalie snorted. "I'll just ask the Professor for help."
Jean just rolled her eyes and turned around, back facing Natalie, who had also turned around.
"One. . . whole. . . flipping. . . day. . . with. . . Satan. . . spawn. . . grrr. . ."
* * *
Pyro sat against the wall. He was safe for now. He flicked his lighter open and shut again. He had taken an old shirt and bound the back of his head where he had hit the wall earlier during his dual with the Wolverine. Why was it he always had to take crap from that guy?
He thought back to Natalie. He sighed.
"I hope she's okay."
His face brightened. "I'll just go see for myself."
* * *
Wolverine rode down the empty streets toward the Brotherhood Boarding House. School had just let out prior to, and he smelled scumbags nearby. Suddenly, the flame kid crossed his path on another motorcycle. Hadn't he just scared the hell out of him? What was that kid doing?
"Hey kid!"
Pyro saw the man and fled. Wolverine followed him. They rode down the street, and Pyro turned into a side alley. The Canadian followed, and watched as Pyro stopped his bike at the end and jumped off.
"Lookin' for another fight, mate?"
"You just don't give up do you?"
"Sure don't."
"Look, I'm not here to fight."
Logan shifted feet, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Sorry about earlier. I know that you were just trying to help her. It was the Brotherhood. She defended you, and you should feel happy that anyone would want to stick up for one of Magneto's lackeys."
Pyro just rolled his eyes. "A little late now, don't you think?"
Shhhhhiiiiiiinnnnnnnkkkkkkkk.
"We can still tango if you'd like." A familiar gleam appeared in the older man's eyes. Pyro gulped.
"I'll just leave now. G'day."
* * *
That night.
* * *
"Natalie! Natalie! You won't believe this!"
Kitty burst into the medbay. Scott lay sleeping, and Jean had temporarily left for a dinner break, much to Natalie's relief.
"Jean choked at the dinner table?"
Kitty grinned. "I wish. Actually, Mr. Logan payed Lance and Pietro a visit after school. Lance is in the hospital. Pietro ran off somewhere, but he got beat up pretty good. Rogue said Wanda said that she'd never heard her brother scream so loud in her life."
Natalie just laughed. "As long as Pietro's still alive."
"Yeah I know right? We don't need a murder case on our hands, even if it is Pietro."
"Actually, that's not what I meant."
Natalie grinned evilly, then groaned and grabbed her stomach.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"So what did you mean?" Kitty looked at her questioningly.
Natalie smiled at her. "Let's just that the speed demon had better watch himself."
Kitty shook her head, grinning. "I hope you know what you're doing."
MoonlightPhoenix3- Aye! I love you! Welcome to my humble abode! *bows* Actually I think I've read 'Paintings of you on my walls' I'm gonna have to go and look again now. Piotr is the coolest anyway! And yeah, he'll be along shortly, once again, but his usage remains a secret known only to me. . . and the evil mole people that live in the back of my closet.
Kerrigan- Wheee! Why thankyou very very much! I love having constant reviewers!
Chapter 7: Trouble Brewing
* * *
"Miss Grey, line one please."
Jean Grey slowly turned around to face the office secretary Mrs. Brenson. She smiled, and flipped her long red hair behind her shoulder.
"Who is it, Mrs. Bronson?"
"Professor Xavier, darling. But remember what I have told you about personal phone calls?"
"Why yes mam, and I'm so terribly sorry. Please forgive me?"
Jean offered the older woman a wonderful smile (A/N: A smile so purely wonderful that one could simply puke when thine eyes were cast upon it. . . but this is my opinion, please don't shoot me.)
She warmly took the phone from Mrs. Brenson and held the receiver to her ear.
"Professor? What's wrong?"
**You know, you could have just summoned me telepathically. Now Mrs. Brenson will just think I'm making social calls.**
"I'm sorry Jean", the older British man said, "But I must have you released from school today. There was an accident this morning, and Scott and Natalie are both being kept in the med bay."
"Oh my goodness."
Jean grew pale, and her willowy features darkened. "I'll get there as soon as I can, Professor."
"Thank you Jean. Now let me speak with Mrs. Brenson."
Jean handed the phone to the other woman.
"Mrs. Brenson's office, how may I help you?"
Jean just stared at her feet, lost in thought, as tears slowly fell and cascaded quietly down her sullen face.
* * *
"Okay class, settle down."
Mr. Ledford leaned out from behind his desk. He grinned.
"Anyone catch the football game last night?"
"Yeah dude it was great!"
Rogue sunk down in her seat. Just some dumb jock and a football coach who had no business teaching. How much worse could life get?
"Eh. . . me pardoner, monsieur, but is this. . ."
Rogue jerked her head up. "Gambit!"
Mr. Ledford got up from where he was sitting, clearly not understanding Rogue's seriousness of the situation.
"Look Mud-Pie, this is Pre-Calculus. Not Gambit. I don't know where you freaks come up with this-"
"Eh. . . monsieur, dis is de right room den, non?"
Gambit held up a slip of paper. Mr. Ledford walked over and quickly examined it.
"Yep, this is it. Got any math skills?"
"Non monsieur, but Remy be willin' to try 'f la belle femme be willin' ta tutor m'."
The Cajun grinned at the young goth as she turned away with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
"I doubt you want her for a tutor, Mr. . ."
He looked at the schedule. "LeBeau?"
"Oui."
"Yeah, okay then. Perhaps Miss Pryde will help you?"
Kitty shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the Cajun man eyed her. He recognized her as the. . . what was the word? Phaser? Ghoster? Whatever. The girl could get out of any tight scrapes. She seemed nice enough, but she wasn't anything like a certain southern belle that had caught his demon eyes. . .
"Mr. LeBeau, would you mind taking a seat?"
"Non, monsieur."
He eyed the geeky kid who occupied the desk next to Rogue.
"What yo' name be, homme?"
"M-me? Well, I-I'm, well-"
"Oui?"
The kid had serious problems. He tugged at his shirt collar, and sweated like he'd just run a marathon. He almost looked like one of those kids he saw back in New Orleans. The ones he'd see one time, in a bad situation, and then the next time the Cajun laid eyes on them, it was on the obituary pages in the paper. . .
"Jim."
"Jim what, monsieur?"
"J-Jim Blystone."
Damn, that kid was a wreck.
"Monsieur, might Remy borrow your seat. . ." He leaned in and smirked at the kid. "Permanently?"
Jim gulped and scooted out of reach, taking his book with him. Remy just grinned and sat in the desk, propping his feet up. He wiggled his eyebrows at Rogue, who just glared back. Mr. Ledford came back and slapped Remy's feet off of the desktop.
"Look, Remy, your feet go on the floor here. I don't care what you'ns did down south, but here we try to act civilized."
Remy stood up and glared at the man. He peered over the tops of his shades. Red and black glowed from beneath them.
"I'd watch what ya say 'rund here, monsieur."
"Oh, great." Rogue mumbled to no one in particular.
* * *
"Professor, professor! Where is he?"
Jean ran into the British man's office, with a frightened and concerned look.
"The med bay. Quickly, go and help Mr. McCoy. I'm sure your presence would be greatly appreciated."
The man smiled at her, and she rushed to the med bay.
* * *
Running. Running so fast. The water. It was everywhere. The teen fell, and blood covered him. What had happened? Natalie was frightened. The boy reached into the pocket of his jeans with a scraped hand, and pulled out a small object, glancing around quickly. Fire came out of this object, and spread like the wildfires she had witnessed back home. She saw shadows about, dancing in the firelight, performing some sort of strange ritual. Who was this boy? She knew this way well. She had passed here before. . .
"Scott!"
Natalie blinked awake. She slowly moved her head, suddenly aware of the stabbing pain in her head and neck.
"Damn whiplash", she muttered.
"Oh Scott! Look at you! I should have been there."
Natalie strained to look and listen, but all she could see was red. Red hair.
"Oooohh, I think I'm gonna hurl."
Jean narrowed her eyes.
"Look I know you don't like me, you don't have to be so rude, Natalie."
Natalie just groaned and rolled over, falling out of bed and onto the hard floor while Jean just watched.
"Uggh. Go find a trashcan."
Jean turned back to Scott, gently stroking his face.
Natalie just sighed, and lay where she had fallen. She didn't feel like getting up. Suddenly to her surprise, Jean telepathically lifted her back onto the bed, and she saw her vomit float to the wastebasket beside Scott's bed. Natalie grimaced and forced her eyes closed. Then Mr. McCoy appeared.
"Jean! I'm so pleased you're taking such good care of our patients!"
"Oh no problem Mr. McCoy!" She offered a warm smile. (A/N: Again, in the words of Scrawler, it makes us want to hurl upon the nice carpets. Please don't shoot me.)
Mr. McCoy just smiled back. "You may stay longer if you'd like."
"Oh, thankyou! Anything for Scott! I just hope he gets better soon."
"In time, my dear. He got hit pretty hard, but it's mostly just his neck. He'll be wearing a brace for a week or two. Natalie should be okay, too."
He smiled at Natalie, who smiled back weakly. "Can I leave now?"
"No, Natalie, spend the night here. You can go to school tomorrow."
She sighed. "Right then. Can I see Mr. Logan?"
"Of course, I'll get him for you. Jean, keep an eye on these two."
"Sure thing, Mr. McCoy." Jean smiled an ever-so-fake smile at Natalie. The southerner just rolled over, back facing Jean.
"I wouldn't act like that if I were you. You'll spend the rest of your life thinking you're in love with a donkey."
Natalie looked back at her slowly. "You'd know all about that wouldn't you?"
"Natalie?"
She looked back to see Mr. Logan. "You wanted to see me, kid?"
"It wasn't the red-head. Mullet boy and Pietro started it. I think. . . I think that boy was trying to save me. He was trying to help me."
She thought for a moment.
"I think I know him. . . the boy from the train! I knew it! But what's he doing here?"
Logan just stared at her.
". . . Right. Thanks. I have something to take care of."
He walked out briskly. Jean just snorted.
"Well, then! Pardon my saying, but as much as I don't like Badger, and as much as I really don't care. . ."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Those Brotherhood creeps better hope that there's an angel nearby by the time Logan gets finished with them."
"That bad, huh?"
"Worse. He's a nightmare."
Natalie just grinned. "Pietro has no idea who he's dealing with."
Jean heard what Natalie was thinking. "You won't do anything, chicken. What can you do?"
Natalie just glared at her. "I'll think of something. But can you do me a favor and not read my mind?"
"Try by not thinking so loud."
Natalie snorted. "I'll just ask the Professor for help."
Jean just rolled her eyes and turned around, back facing Natalie, who had also turned around.
"One. . . whole. . . flipping. . . day. . . with. . . Satan. . . spawn. . . grrr. . ."
* * *
Pyro sat against the wall. He was safe for now. He flicked his lighter open and shut again. He had taken an old shirt and bound the back of his head where he had hit the wall earlier during his dual with the Wolverine. Why was it he always had to take crap from that guy?
He thought back to Natalie. He sighed.
"I hope she's okay."
His face brightened. "I'll just go see for myself."
* * *
Wolverine rode down the empty streets toward the Brotherhood Boarding House. School had just let out prior to, and he smelled scumbags nearby. Suddenly, the flame kid crossed his path on another motorcycle. Hadn't he just scared the hell out of him? What was that kid doing?
"Hey kid!"
Pyro saw the man and fled. Wolverine followed him. They rode down the street, and Pyro turned into a side alley. The Canadian followed, and watched as Pyro stopped his bike at the end and jumped off.
"Lookin' for another fight, mate?"
"You just don't give up do you?"
"Sure don't."
"Look, I'm not here to fight."
Logan shifted feet, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Sorry about earlier. I know that you were just trying to help her. It was the Brotherhood. She defended you, and you should feel happy that anyone would want to stick up for one of Magneto's lackeys."
Pyro just rolled his eyes. "A little late now, don't you think?"
Shhhhhiiiiiiinnnnnnnkkkkkkkk.
"We can still tango if you'd like." A familiar gleam appeared in the older man's eyes. Pyro gulped.
"I'll just leave now. G'day."
* * *
That night.
* * *
"Natalie! Natalie! You won't believe this!"
Kitty burst into the medbay. Scott lay sleeping, and Jean had temporarily left for a dinner break, much to Natalie's relief.
"Jean choked at the dinner table?"
Kitty grinned. "I wish. Actually, Mr. Logan payed Lance and Pietro a visit after school. Lance is in the hospital. Pietro ran off somewhere, but he got beat up pretty good. Rogue said Wanda said that she'd never heard her brother scream so loud in her life."
Natalie just laughed. "As long as Pietro's still alive."
"Yeah I know right? We don't need a murder case on our hands, even if it is Pietro."
"Actually, that's not what I meant."
Natalie grinned evilly, then groaned and grabbed her stomach.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"So what did you mean?" Kitty looked at her questioningly.
Natalie smiled at her. "Let's just that the speed demon had better watch himself."
Kitty shook her head, grinning. "I hope you know what you're doing."