Regina, the Queen of Random: Before I begin this, I would like to remind everyone who reads this that I do not own X-Men: Evolution in any form. I do not own any of the characters from that show, or who have appeared in anything else to do with X-Men. That was the disclaimer.
Now for the introduction to this story. I am not going to say much about this, except to set a timeframe. This is somewhere about twenty years after the whole Apocalypse fiasco, and due to that, the end of the series. I hope you enjoy this story, and let me know what you think by using the review button. I am sorry if this chapter is longer than any of my usual work, but it was the only way to make it work. More will be explained in later chapters, although some of the more perceptive people may pick up a few things as they read. That's all from me. Regina, out.
Ashes to Ashes
Chapter One: Bridget
The flames danced in front of her eyes, each one casting its flickering light onto her face.
They could quite possibly be the most beautiful things she had ever seen.
"All right, Bridget. Make a wish!"
Bridget Jeffries blew out all of the candles on her birthday cake. There! It was official. She was fifteen!
"So, Bridget, what did you wish for?" her mother, Adela, asked. She had arranged this surprise birthday party for Bridget and her friends.
"Mom! You know that if I tell, it won't come true!" But for all of Bridget's shock, she hugged her mother. "Thanks, Mom. Where's Dad?"
Adela looked around, decorated for a party and full of teenagers.
"Who's up for a little 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey'?" boomed a familiar deep voice.
"I thought you said he wasn't going to embarrass me!" Bridget hissed at her mother.
Adela looked alarmed. "He promised!"
Bridget's father, Justin, entered the room. Bridget and Adela glared at him. "Only joking! I just brought all of the presents in here, to save you going to get them." True to his words, his arms were loaded with presents. "Whoa!" he cried, nearly dropping one, but his wife caught it. "Thanks, honey," he said to her.
Adela kissed him on the cheek. "Justin, put them on the table, next to the cake. We'll leave the kids to have fun, and not embarrass them." When Justin had safely deposited the presents, Adela took his arm and led him out the door. "Just don't burn the house down while we're out!" was the last thing she said, before shutting the door behind them.
"Like I could!" laughed Bridget.
A girl with pink-streaked blonde waves bounced from the other side of the room to stand next to Bridget. This was Melody Stevens, Bridget's best friend, and the two were striking contrasts. While Melody was fair, Bridget was darker, although her pale brown skin was several shades lighter than either of her parents. No one knew where in the family Bridget got her hair, which appeared dark brown, but when the light hit it, it burned red.
But Bridget didn't care, although she was forever telling people that her hair was naturally that colour, and no, she could not tell you what colour hair-dye would give you that effect.
"Open this one first!" Melody ordered. "It's from me," she added, although it was obvious to all. Melody could be a little ditzy at times, but only when she was excited, or on too much sugar. Bridget suspected both in this case.
The wrapping paper was quickly torn off, and revealing a thick paperback novel. "The new Jonathan Hawkesby?!" Bridget asked, excited. Melody nodded. "Thank you!" Bridget squealed, bouncing up and down with her best friend happily.
After a few more minutes of fierce unwrapping, it appeared that Bridget had unwrapped them all. "That's it?"
"Hang on," added someone. "You forgot this one." Someone handed Bridget a plain white envelope. There was nothing written on it.
Undisturbed, Bridget opened the envelope, and pulled out the card.
Everyone, including Bridget, stared at the card, which Bridget had yet to open.
The cover read, 'With Sympathies'.
Bridget blinked. "It must be some mistake," she said, trying to put a smile on her face. "I mean, who would send me a card like this for my birthday?" She laughed, but her voice was drawn tight. She opened the card, and read the inside.
With a gasp, she dropped the card. It fluttered to the floor. No one moved to pick it up, except for Melody. She read it, eyes cold. "Oh, this is sick. This is sick."
"What did it say?" asked a voice.
Melody did not speak, but Bridget did. "It said -" she lost her voice, and tried again. "It said, 'You will burn for your sins like they will.'"
X X X
The party broke up pretty quickly after that. Melody had phoned Adela and Justin while the other partygoers left. Melody stayed until Adela and Justin returned, then made her way home, just a few houses up the street.
Justin stared at the card. "I told you, Adela, we were wrong to get involved in this."
"She was my best friend, and it was my duty to her," Adela snapped. "And, after fifteen years, I thought that it was over."
"But it's not, is it? 'You will burn for your sins like they will'. That means that they're still out there, still running. And that they are still being chased."
"Who are?" asked Bridget, frightened. "What is going on? Who are they?"
Justin ran his hands through his dark hair. "They left their problem with us," he said, ignoring his daughter, "thinking it was safer, but now look at it! She's no safer with us than with them!"
"And so the last fifteen years have been a waste?" Adela shot back. "We swore that we would protect her, and we have done so!"
"But it is beyond us!" Justin shouted. "I told you that taking her in was a mistake, and as much as I love her, she's put us all in danger!"
"And so we just give up now?!" Adela shouted back. "There are other people we can ask for help! I am not the only one of her friends! They can protect her the way we can't, and they would have found out sooner or later! I know the signs!"
"How can you tell?! Just because you knew her mother?!"
"What are you talking about?!" Bridget cried. "Who are you talking about?!"
Adela and Justin stared at her. "Your real parents," Adela said quietly. "They gave you to us when you were a baby. They thought they were protecting you by doing so."
Bridget's liquid brown eyes widened. "What?" she whispered.
"We're not your biological parents," Justin said quietly. "We're sorry."
Things went all hazy for Bridget; she couldn't breathe. She was adopted?
"Bridget?" asked Adela, cautiously.
"Who are they?" Bridget gasped.
"I don't think-"
"Who are they?!" she screamed. "I want to know!"
Adela and Justin looked at each other. The look they gave each other was: We knew we had to tell her someday. But what do we say?
"Your mother was my best friend growing up. I was two years older than her, but that didn't matter where we grew up. It was a small place," Adela added quietly, looking at her feet. "Most people didn't know about it. Most still don't. Your mother and I are two of the very few people who have left it."
"Where?" whispered Bridget, sounding suddenly very tired.
Adela shook her head. "I can't tell you. That was part of the promise I made to your parents. Well, to your mother. She was the one who came to me. We spoke several times before we saw you."
"What about my. . . father?"
"I didn't know him. We only met him the one time, and that was when he and your mother gave you to us. He loved you though, that much I could see."
"What were their names?"
"We can't tell you," Justin said. "It's for your own safety. There is somebody after your parents, and knowing who they are might make things worse."
"But they already know who I am," Bridget stated. "How much worse can it get?"
"Much, much worse, Bridget. Trust us. Trust your birth parents. They did what was best for you." Adela reached out and placed a hand on Bridget's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
Bridget shrugged the hand off. "Don't touch me."
"Bridget. . ."
"You lied to me for fifteen years. How can I trust you?"
"Because we are your parents," Justin replied.
"No, you are not." Bridget's voice was like ice. She got up and headed for the front door.
"Where are you going?" asked Adela.
"I don't know," replied Bridget. "And I honestly don't care."
"It's not safe out there."
Bridget opened the door. "You should have thought of that fifteen years ago."
Adela winced as the door slammed behind Bridget. Justin did nothing except stare straight ahead, his expression blank.
X X X
Bridget ran. She did not know where she was going, she did not know how long she had been running. All she knew was that she had to get away, clear her head.
She would go home soon enough, but right now, she just needed some space, and time to think. Her parents - no, her adoptive parents - had lied to her for fifteen years, and now they would not even tell her the names of her biological parents. They wouldn't -
There was a screech of tires, and Bridget looked up.
She had not been paying attention to where she was going, and had run right into the middle of the road. Someone - a completely random person - had been driving along that road right then. Seeing Bridget, he had slammed on the brakes, and swerved to miss her.
He missed her by what seemed like a mile, and ended up slamming into a tree. The driver got out of the car, and started yelling at her.
"Are you crazy! What the hell is wrong with you?! You idiot, I could have hit you! And now look what you've done to my car!"
"I'm sorry," Bridget managed to get out. This, added to the shock of finding out she was adopted, made it even harder to breathe.
"You're sorry? You're sorry?!" yelled the man. "Do you know how much this is going to cost to get fixed? Well, you know something? You are going to pay for this to get fixed!"
"It was an accident. . ."
The man did not stop yelling. He kept shouting at Bridget, getting louder and louder. The racket he was making brought everyone who had not heard the collision out to see what was going on.
Bridget looked around. This was starting to scare her.
But what was even worse was that other thing that she was feeling.
The man made her angry, and every word he said made her even angrier. He could have killed her, but he cared more about his car.
And then. . . something amazing happened.
The feeling started up behind her eyes, like they were rising in temperature, and everything seemed to take on a faint red colour. The heat behind her eyes spread throughout her body as she got angrier and angrier. Her hands began to feel as though they were on fire - it would have been painful, had it not felt amazing.
Her eyes focused on the man's car. The car that was the problem, the thing she was angriest at, after the man who was still yelling at her.
Oh, how she hated that car.
And then it happened.
The heat behind her eyes, and in her hands, burst forward. But only she saw it.
Flames, visible only to her, sprang forward, flying through the air, heading towards the object of her anger.
And then the moment the invisible flames struck the car, the whole vehicle burst into flames, real as the candles that had been on her birthday cake.
"What the hell?!" shouted the man, before running a safe distance away.
Bridget stared at her hands in horror. Skimming across the surface of her hands were red-gold flames, but they did not hurt her. As she watched, they disappeared beneath the skin, filling her completely.
Bridget wished she could say the same for the car, which was now almost completely engulfed in flames now.
"It's her!" shouted the man. "She did it! She's a mutant!"
Bridget sat down hard. She knew what a mutant was, and, horrified, realised that she was one, too. Perhaps that was why her parents had abandoned her - they were mutants, and they had wanted her to be safe from mutant hunters (Bridget had heard about those), and to live a normal life, at least until her powers showed up.
Tears leaked out of Bridget's eyes, and the faint red colour faded away, leaving everything its normal colour. She stayed there on the grass, only half-hearing the sirens that were racing to take her away.
Now for the introduction to this story. I am not going to say much about this, except to set a timeframe. This is somewhere about twenty years after the whole Apocalypse fiasco, and due to that, the end of the series. I hope you enjoy this story, and let me know what you think by using the review button. I am sorry if this chapter is longer than any of my usual work, but it was the only way to make it work. More will be explained in later chapters, although some of the more perceptive people may pick up a few things as they read. That's all from me. Regina, out.
Ashes to Ashes
Chapter One: Bridget
The flames danced in front of her eyes, each one casting its flickering light onto her face.
They could quite possibly be the most beautiful things she had ever seen.
"All right, Bridget. Make a wish!"
Bridget Jeffries blew out all of the candles on her birthday cake. There! It was official. She was fifteen!
"So, Bridget, what did you wish for?" her mother, Adela, asked. She had arranged this surprise birthday party for Bridget and her friends.
"Mom! You know that if I tell, it won't come true!" But for all of Bridget's shock, she hugged her mother. "Thanks, Mom. Where's Dad?"
Adela looked around, decorated for a party and full of teenagers.
"Who's up for a little 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey'?" boomed a familiar deep voice.
"I thought you said he wasn't going to embarrass me!" Bridget hissed at her mother.
Adela looked alarmed. "He promised!"
Bridget's father, Justin, entered the room. Bridget and Adela glared at him. "Only joking! I just brought all of the presents in here, to save you going to get them." True to his words, his arms were loaded with presents. "Whoa!" he cried, nearly dropping one, but his wife caught it. "Thanks, honey," he said to her.
Adela kissed him on the cheek. "Justin, put them on the table, next to the cake. We'll leave the kids to have fun, and not embarrass them." When Justin had safely deposited the presents, Adela took his arm and led him out the door. "Just don't burn the house down while we're out!" was the last thing she said, before shutting the door behind them.
"Like I could!" laughed Bridget.
A girl with pink-streaked blonde waves bounced from the other side of the room to stand next to Bridget. This was Melody Stevens, Bridget's best friend, and the two were striking contrasts. While Melody was fair, Bridget was darker, although her pale brown skin was several shades lighter than either of her parents. No one knew where in the family Bridget got her hair, which appeared dark brown, but when the light hit it, it burned red.
But Bridget didn't care, although she was forever telling people that her hair was naturally that colour, and no, she could not tell you what colour hair-dye would give you that effect.
"Open this one first!" Melody ordered. "It's from me," she added, although it was obvious to all. Melody could be a little ditzy at times, but only when she was excited, or on too much sugar. Bridget suspected both in this case.
The wrapping paper was quickly torn off, and revealing a thick paperback novel. "The new Jonathan Hawkesby?!" Bridget asked, excited. Melody nodded. "Thank you!" Bridget squealed, bouncing up and down with her best friend happily.
After a few more minutes of fierce unwrapping, it appeared that Bridget had unwrapped them all. "That's it?"
"Hang on," added someone. "You forgot this one." Someone handed Bridget a plain white envelope. There was nothing written on it.
Undisturbed, Bridget opened the envelope, and pulled out the card.
Everyone, including Bridget, stared at the card, which Bridget had yet to open.
The cover read, 'With Sympathies'.
Bridget blinked. "It must be some mistake," she said, trying to put a smile on her face. "I mean, who would send me a card like this for my birthday?" She laughed, but her voice was drawn tight. She opened the card, and read the inside.
With a gasp, she dropped the card. It fluttered to the floor. No one moved to pick it up, except for Melody. She read it, eyes cold. "Oh, this is sick. This is sick."
"What did it say?" asked a voice.
Melody did not speak, but Bridget did. "It said -" she lost her voice, and tried again. "It said, 'You will burn for your sins like they will.'"
X X X
The party broke up pretty quickly after that. Melody had phoned Adela and Justin while the other partygoers left. Melody stayed until Adela and Justin returned, then made her way home, just a few houses up the street.
Justin stared at the card. "I told you, Adela, we were wrong to get involved in this."
"She was my best friend, and it was my duty to her," Adela snapped. "And, after fifteen years, I thought that it was over."
"But it's not, is it? 'You will burn for your sins like they will'. That means that they're still out there, still running. And that they are still being chased."
"Who are?" asked Bridget, frightened. "What is going on? Who are they?"
Justin ran his hands through his dark hair. "They left their problem with us," he said, ignoring his daughter, "thinking it was safer, but now look at it! She's no safer with us than with them!"
"And so the last fifteen years have been a waste?" Adela shot back. "We swore that we would protect her, and we have done so!"
"But it is beyond us!" Justin shouted. "I told you that taking her in was a mistake, and as much as I love her, she's put us all in danger!"
"And so we just give up now?!" Adela shouted back. "There are other people we can ask for help! I am not the only one of her friends! They can protect her the way we can't, and they would have found out sooner or later! I know the signs!"
"How can you tell?! Just because you knew her mother?!"
"What are you talking about?!" Bridget cried. "Who are you talking about?!"
Adela and Justin stared at her. "Your real parents," Adela said quietly. "They gave you to us when you were a baby. They thought they were protecting you by doing so."
Bridget's liquid brown eyes widened. "What?" she whispered.
"We're not your biological parents," Justin said quietly. "We're sorry."
Things went all hazy for Bridget; she couldn't breathe. She was adopted?
"Bridget?" asked Adela, cautiously.
"Who are they?" Bridget gasped.
"I don't think-"
"Who are they?!" she screamed. "I want to know!"
Adela and Justin looked at each other. The look they gave each other was: We knew we had to tell her someday. But what do we say?
"Your mother was my best friend growing up. I was two years older than her, but that didn't matter where we grew up. It was a small place," Adela added quietly, looking at her feet. "Most people didn't know about it. Most still don't. Your mother and I are two of the very few people who have left it."
"Where?" whispered Bridget, sounding suddenly very tired.
Adela shook her head. "I can't tell you. That was part of the promise I made to your parents. Well, to your mother. She was the one who came to me. We spoke several times before we saw you."
"What about my. . . father?"
"I didn't know him. We only met him the one time, and that was when he and your mother gave you to us. He loved you though, that much I could see."
"What were their names?"
"We can't tell you," Justin said. "It's for your own safety. There is somebody after your parents, and knowing who they are might make things worse."
"But they already know who I am," Bridget stated. "How much worse can it get?"
"Much, much worse, Bridget. Trust us. Trust your birth parents. They did what was best for you." Adela reached out and placed a hand on Bridget's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
Bridget shrugged the hand off. "Don't touch me."
"Bridget. . ."
"You lied to me for fifteen years. How can I trust you?"
"Because we are your parents," Justin replied.
"No, you are not." Bridget's voice was like ice. She got up and headed for the front door.
"Where are you going?" asked Adela.
"I don't know," replied Bridget. "And I honestly don't care."
"It's not safe out there."
Bridget opened the door. "You should have thought of that fifteen years ago."
Adela winced as the door slammed behind Bridget. Justin did nothing except stare straight ahead, his expression blank.
X X X
Bridget ran. She did not know where she was going, she did not know how long she had been running. All she knew was that she had to get away, clear her head.
She would go home soon enough, but right now, she just needed some space, and time to think. Her parents - no, her adoptive parents - had lied to her for fifteen years, and now they would not even tell her the names of her biological parents. They wouldn't -
There was a screech of tires, and Bridget looked up.
She had not been paying attention to where she was going, and had run right into the middle of the road. Someone - a completely random person - had been driving along that road right then. Seeing Bridget, he had slammed on the brakes, and swerved to miss her.
He missed her by what seemed like a mile, and ended up slamming into a tree. The driver got out of the car, and started yelling at her.
"Are you crazy! What the hell is wrong with you?! You idiot, I could have hit you! And now look what you've done to my car!"
"I'm sorry," Bridget managed to get out. This, added to the shock of finding out she was adopted, made it even harder to breathe.
"You're sorry? You're sorry?!" yelled the man. "Do you know how much this is going to cost to get fixed? Well, you know something? You are going to pay for this to get fixed!"
"It was an accident. . ."
The man did not stop yelling. He kept shouting at Bridget, getting louder and louder. The racket he was making brought everyone who had not heard the collision out to see what was going on.
Bridget looked around. This was starting to scare her.
But what was even worse was that other thing that she was feeling.
The man made her angry, and every word he said made her even angrier. He could have killed her, but he cared more about his car.
And then. . . something amazing happened.
The feeling started up behind her eyes, like they were rising in temperature, and everything seemed to take on a faint red colour. The heat behind her eyes spread throughout her body as she got angrier and angrier. Her hands began to feel as though they were on fire - it would have been painful, had it not felt amazing.
Her eyes focused on the man's car. The car that was the problem, the thing she was angriest at, after the man who was still yelling at her.
Oh, how she hated that car.
And then it happened.
The heat behind her eyes, and in her hands, burst forward. But only she saw it.
Flames, visible only to her, sprang forward, flying through the air, heading towards the object of her anger.
And then the moment the invisible flames struck the car, the whole vehicle burst into flames, real as the candles that had been on her birthday cake.
"What the hell?!" shouted the man, before running a safe distance away.
Bridget stared at her hands in horror. Skimming across the surface of her hands were red-gold flames, but they did not hurt her. As she watched, they disappeared beneath the skin, filling her completely.
Bridget wished she could say the same for the car, which was now almost completely engulfed in flames now.
"It's her!" shouted the man. "She did it! She's a mutant!"
Bridget sat down hard. She knew what a mutant was, and, horrified, realised that she was one, too. Perhaps that was why her parents had abandoned her - they were mutants, and they had wanted her to be safe from mutant hunters (Bridget had heard about those), and to live a normal life, at least until her powers showed up.
Tears leaked out of Bridget's eyes, and the faint red colour faded away, leaving everything its normal colour. She stayed there on the grass, only half-hearing the sirens that were racing to take her away.