Authors Note: Well, here we go; Chapter Two, up 'n' running on the second day of my little venture. I promise to the best of my ability that there will be a new chapter up each day. Or, less than six hours, in this case.

SHOUT OUTS:
Lamby: Thanks! I've recently read one of your fics; the review should be uploading soon... #Glares threateningly at slow connection# At the moment I'm too lazy to actually find the one I read; but no matter. We'll find out soon enough, no?

ANYWAY:

I am expecting 6 reviews before I continue. REVIEW: and you will get your very own, limited edition, MORT CLONE! Batteries not included.

Chapter Two- Unexpected Visitors

It had been weeks since he had removed himself from the dingy flat, he was now tired, bored, and more than a little restless. It was time to hit the town; or at least to mope around, and scare small children.

His head ached from lack of sleep, and rusty nails seemed to claw away at his empty stomach. He smiled at his reflection. He was beginning to look a little green. 'My, my' he thought to himself. 'I'm becoming a regular joker, aren't I?' he sighed, and grabbed his black trench coat from it's perch on the kitchen table. He wrestled it on, not bothering to pull the collar up around his ears. He didn't quite feel like hiding tonight. He had been hiding for too long. Much too long.

And plus- since he was in such a joking mood, why not see the looks of repulsion and confusion of passers by? He cracked his knuckles, stretching his cold, stiff fingers. It felt like the longer he stayed inside, locked away, the more of him died. And now, it was becoming a physical problem.

He walked inside the elevator, to see a young girl of thirteen, per say. She looked extremely bored, and seemed to be leafing through an ancient issue of 'teen people'. He smiled to himself, and flicked his tongue to button panel, striking the ground level. She glanced up at him for a moment, the look of boredom still planted on her face.
"Show off," she grumbled. Just then the doors slid open, and she walked on, throwing the magazine in to the corner. It promptly ignited, exploding with a soft 'pop'. The doors shut again before he could say a word. He looked at the pile of ashes curiously. Maybe he wasn't alone as he thought.

He left the building, taking a deep draw of fresh autumn air for the first time in a long time. It was reaching twilight; the last of the sun's rays were adding to New York's purplish gloom. He walked eastward, his eyes focused on the stone he kicked along the pavement. The street he was traveling down was otherwise inhibited; only the very brave dare venture out this late in such a shady part of town. He smiled to himself. After all- there were pro-mutant terrorists on the loose.

"Hey, green boy," came a taunting male voice from somewhere behind him. His heart leapt in his chest. He had heard no one approach. He whirled around, and was nearly face to face with a fair-haired youth; perhaps fifteen. Unfortunately what the boy lacked in age, he made up for in size. He tensed his body, ready to spring. A hand jutted out and grabbed his neck before he could make a move against him.

Something was wrong. Nothing had ever snuck up on Mortimer. Nothing. The hand was loose enough around his windpipe for him to breathe, yet it was tight enough for him to know that he wasn't getting away any time soon.

"What do you want?" he said calmly, despite the anxiety that he was feeling inside.

"The question isn't what I want. It's what Fear wants." He said. "Can I trust that if I let go, you won't be hopping away from me?"

"What does it matter? If you can catch me once, you can do it again."

"Sometimes that ain't the case," said the boy, letting him go. Mortimer resisted the urge to massage his neck.

"And since when has 'fear' become a noun?" he asked, pushing his untidy hair back.

"Mortimer- I'm here to warn you. There is someone after you. Her name is Jaye Strain. You must avoid her at all costs."

"And you were sent by...?" he said questionably. He had learned never to trust anyone; especially if they had the ability to sneak up on him unnoticed.

"A friend. Goodbye, Mortimer."

"Stop changing the subject! Who's fear?!" He yelled at the boy's retreating back. He recieved no answer.

Charles Xavier woke up in the middle of the night, his head pounding. Something was wrong. Not wasting time on changing; he headed down to Cerebro in his pajamas. Kurt was sitting in the kitchen, reading a book and chewing on cold pizza, while Logan crossly drank a bottle of warm soda.

They both noticed the disgruntled Professor wheel by, and went outside to investigate. "What's up, Prof?" asked Logan, falling in to step, so to speak, with the man.

"I'm afraid it takes more than what we thought to get rid of Mortimer Toynbee."

"Morti-whatsis?"

"Alias; Toad."

"Oh. Him."

"Yes, him. He, apparently, made it out of the bay alive, and has severed bonds with the Brotherhood. He is residing somewhere in Queens now."

"If he's gone dormant, vat is ze problem? And how do you know all of zis in the virst place?" Kurt asked, more than slightly confused. Charles sighed.

"I don't know. But we're about to find out." He said as the computerized voice once again greeted his presence.

"Who cares what happens to that green freak anyway?" snapped Wolverine, following the Professor in.

"Part of the Brotherhood or not- he is another human being and he most likely needs our help."

"He tried to kill both Jean and Ororo..."

"So did Mystique. But we have made....amends of some sort with her and Erik, have we not?"

"Sometimes, Prof, just being around you gives me a headache."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Said Charles with a small smile.

Kurt went back to the kitchen, still wondering what the fuss was about. He cursed himself mentally- that scavenger Bobby had probably snatched his pizza. That kid lurked around the kitchen night and day snatching left over pieces of food. He must have some sort of radar- as soon as there was a morsel of food left uneaten for one flea bitten minute...

Moments after the young boy had left, he felt searing pain enter from somewhere behind his eyes. He let out a yell, collapsing on to the pavement, grabbing his head in agony. A voice entered his head- one that sounded vaguely familiar.

(If you don't relax, this is going to hurt a lot more than it has to, Mortimer.) This built up his defenses further- and the pain caused his eyes to roll up in to the back of his head. The only noise he knew were the screams coming out of his mouth.

(Mortimer. Please- if you don't stop you're going to-)
"GET OUT!" he screamed. And suddenly the pain stopped. He stood up shakily, noticing his entire body was covered in a cold sweat. He wiped it off his brow, and looked around him. No one in sight. He broke off in a run. There had been a little bit too much action for one blasted night. That's what he got for leaving the house.

Charles put back Cerebro's headpiece in defeat. Mortimer's mind was much stronger than most gave him credit for. He had forced Xavier right out of his head. This only worried Charles more. He hadn't meant to hurt him; and now that he had, it was very unlikely that he would let the wall surrounding his mind down any time soon.

But for the brief moments that the professor had been in the man's mind, he could tell that something only moments before had shaken him considerably. This was probably the reason he was able to force the telepath out of his subconscious, his adrenaline was already through the roof.

Under normal circumstances, the Toad could have probably made a formidable case, but couldn't have bested the professor, even at such a long distance. The man smiled bitterly to himself. And Mr. Toynbee had grown up most of his life thinking he was an imbecile. Preposterous. Absolutely preposterous.

He decided that it would be best if he tried to revisit the dream he had earlier. It was harder now, that he was awake. He closed his eyes, and tried to think.

He was crouched on a lamppost, looking down on a catlike creature. It soon jumped to join him, a smile on it's perfectly rounded lips. He was absolutely terrified.

"Who are you?!" he hissed, jumping away.
"I am the reason you wake up in the middle of the night screaming. I am the cause of the foreboding shadows in your life. I. Am. Fear." It said, jumping down behind him. But before he could say a word, a clawed hand gripped his neck harshly in a inefficient sleeper hold- causing him to howl out in pain before dropping limp in her arms.

He then went back in to his own body, although he was standing up as he usually was when exploring someone else's subconscious. He saw Mortimer's limp body cradled in the cat like woman's arms. The woman's eyes snapped over to him. It was impossible. She couldn't see him. It was just a coincidence. Two green cat's eyes met his own.

"I know your watching Xavier. Come and find me. Greet your greatest nightmare."

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Two triple A batteries for anyone who can guess who the chick in the elevator and Toad's assailnant were.