Summary: Warren reflecting on his friendship with the strangle little Snowman that is Bobby Drake.

Warning: Might be some swearing later on.

The Parakeet and the Snowman

Chapter 1: Innocent Times

I made my share of mistakes of the years; I'm the first to admit it. (Well, Bobby does bring up that date with Maya Davies whenever the opportunity comes up. Which is quite often.) I've rushed headlong into danger and in doing so endangered innocents more than once. The rich boy out looking for a few laughs. After I discovered my mutation I donned the mask and became "THE AVENGING ANGEL." (Bobby still giggles whenever he hears that name.)

Still it was only a game; I figured no one would ever get hurt. I had been doing it for a few months without any difficulties. So, naturally I deduced that I was getting pretty good at it. I was young, handsome, and smart, nothing could hurt me. Nothing could ever stop me. Looking back on it I still can't believe what an idiot I was.

The Daily Bugle wrote stories about my exploits, attracting the attention of the man who would finally give my life direction. Image my surprise when I returned to my apartment one night to find three intruders that were asking about a vial I had retrieved from a group of thieves the night before. The threesome without a doubt was the strangest people I had ever met.

Professor Charles Xavier in his wheelchair, calmly sitting among three super powered teens. Charles was grimmer back then, yet I felt that aura of power about him that left us all in awe. Standing alert nearby of course was Scott Summers, our fearless field leader Cyclops. Scott was more awkward back then, both in movement and in speech. His lanky frame made him look like an odd choice for a super hero, certainly not like the ones I grew up reading about.

And then there was the runt, little Bobby Drake. But he didn't look the part of a kid brother when I first saw him. He was "iced up" (though it looked more like snow at the time) near his friends. He was the Iceman, I recall thinking that when I first gaped him. I will never admit this to anyone but the truth of the matter was--he frightened me. Yes, Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third, the man who spouted wings, and risked his life daily was scared to death of a little snowman.

I was already beginning to panic with strangers in my apartment, knowing my secret and asking about the vial. But when I saw a walking talking snowman I really freaked out. I'm ashamed to admit it but I thought he was a freak. Yes, I'm aware how hypocritical that is. What happened next is a bit of a blur, but I remember a fight where I managed to knock out Bobby. Turns out the vial I had been holding onto was actually a dangerous nuclear explosive. I had no other choice than to expose it to the extreme cold of the atmosphere to defuse it. If it wasn't for Charles' mental contact I would have passed out. Afterwards I realized that if I hadn't left Iceman unconscious, we could have taken care of the situation much faster. Thanks to my recklessness I had risked the lives of those around me. I think that was the first mature moment in my life when I admitted that I still had a lot to learn. Charles made an offer and I accepted, becoming the third X-Man.

Unlike most students that come to Xaviers' I wasn't impressed by the mansion. Why should I have been? It was tiny compared to my old school, not to mention my family estate. And unlike Scott and Bobby I had my own car, which of course was top of the line. Scott seemed indifferent to my expensive lifestyle, nodding vaguely whenever I commented on a special feature. After he was officially adopted by the Professor, Scott hardly ever needed to complain. Not that he would, he would have deemed it "ungrateful behavior" or something.

I know I had to be smirking when I saw Bobby's' reaction. The kids' eyes were popping out of his head and his jaw was practically hitting the pavement. That look of unbridle envy that I often saw was clearly there. He mumbled about never seeing one before. I replied that they were made for the big boys, and maybe he'd get one when he grew up. As I got out I caught a quick exchange between my two team mates. Bobby rolled his eyes, and Scott nodded muttering something along the lines of, "forget the arrogant..."

I knew I should really have made an effort to stop pissing them off, but I couldn't help it. After my wings started to come out my back I started to push people away. I didn't want anyone to find out what I was, so I became a jerk. I became so good at it that it now came naturally. So after I popped the trunk I dumped my luggage into my youngest team mates' arms. "Thanks Drake, get the small black one too." The kid glared daggers at me, and might have frozen me where I stood if not for the timely arrive of our mentor. "Oh good. How kind of you two to help our new student." Bobby made a noise like a strange mixture of a groan and a growl. Scott placed a hand onto his friends' shoulder, then nodding stiffly he grabbed a suitcase.

The two of them lead the way up the staircase as the Professor went off to parts unknown. When I caught up to them they were arguing in hushed tones. "...because the rooms aren't made on that wing. Unless you want to make them for him..." Seeing me coming Scott cleared his throat and motioned for the very grumpy kid to follow. He was about to open the door to one of the rooms when Bobby suggested one down the hall, claiming these might not be ready. "It doesn't matter. If I don't like the room you can always help me change rooms later, right?"

Scott remained silent as he opened another door across the hall and dumped the luggage onto the bed. "I hope you enjoy your stay Warren. Now if you'll excuse me I have a training session to go to," He hesitated a moment before adding, "I'm sure Bobby can show you around." With that Mr. Summers rushed out of the room without glancing at either of us. In his haste not noticing that Mr. Drake had extended foot as he fell into the hallway.

For the next hour and seventeen minutes we toured all the available rooms. I automatically said things like, "Huh...", "Right." and the always popular, "Whatever." As I stated earlier I've seen mansions before, instead I studied my tour guide. All my life I've been known as beautiful (in fact I've even been called the most beautiful man in the world.) Compared to me Bobby Drake looked...plain. He had short light brown hair, with a face that still had baby fat, making him look even younger than he was. Nothing really remarkable about him I had thought. Even his eyes were a plain dark brown. Nothing remotely scary, noticeable or interesting about the kid. When I thought about it even his powers were dull. Snow and ice? Riiight.

"...and we can't go there till tomorrow." I blinked trying to focus on the conversation I didn't realize we were having.

"Can't go where?" I asked.

"To the Danger Room." He answered.

"The what--?"

"It's what the training rooms' called."

I had to chuckle at that. "The Danger Room?! What idiot thought up that?!" Judging by the glare I received I had a good idea who that was.