Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or basic storylines from the X-Men. I do, however, own Matthew. And yet, still I am poor beyond belief.

Authors Note: THANK YOU REVIEWERS! You all make me so happy. But please understand, I'm pretty busy right now and the update's aren't going to be coming as fast as they were. But they say patient's is a virtue, so this is a good thing!

Oh, and sorry no phone call to Tante Mattie. It would throw off the whole story line. There will be one later though, so don't be too upset.

'Thoughts'

Matthew

Chapter Nine: Much Too Young To Be So Old

Time's like this he wished he could hate them. His real parents for abandoning him to this life of neglect, abuse and mistrust. But he couldn't. Maybe it was because, unlike so many of the other kids at the foster homes and the orphanages, he could still remember them, despite the young age he was when it happened. His mother always smelled like fresh flowers, and greeted him with a big smile and an even bigger hug and kiss. His father was a Prince of something, but he didn't know of where or what, and was big, and strong and funny and loved to pick him up and swing him around, kissing his cheeks and calling him his petite, whatever that was.

That's why them giving him away had been so hard for him. He just couldn't figure out what he had done to make them stop loving him. His mother had always called him her perfect little baby boy. Maybe he made a mistake and stopped being perfect? He didn't know. All he knew is the day he woke up from his nap in the back of the blonde woman's care, that Mamma always fought with and Daddy couldn't stand, his world crumbled. She didn't speak to him, the woman, she just sat there, reminding him of a devil, and filed her nails. When they got to the orphanage, she took everything from him, including the overalls his mother had made for him, and given him the day before. When he'd struggled, she looked in his eyes and told him the one thing that made him remember the day most.

"Don't y' understand chil'? Dey don't want y' non more," her voice was cold and heartless as she took them away and put new cloths on him. His eyes welled up with tears and he started to cry softly, afraid that if he raised his voice, she'd hit him. Quicker than her pale blue eyes could see though, he pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his beloved overalls and stuffed it into the pocket of his pants.

He still had it today. It was a picture, that after his Mamma had put his overalls on and he discovered the wondrous pocket in the front, he had run over to the bookshelf and put it, frame and all inside. He remembered his mother laughing at him, and how sweet that sounded, as she came over and removed it from the frame, handing it back to him to place inside his new found hiding place. It had always been his favorite picture. It was his parents, standing in the entry way of his Grandfathers house, holding him when he was still new. His Mamma had told him they took it the moment they brought him home from the hospital. He liked it for two reasons. One, he thought it was neat how small he was when he was so new. And two, because Mamma and Daddy were smiling so big and they looked so happy.

He took it out of his pocket now, noticing the wear on the picture, and fingered it gently. As he gazed at it, he heard a loud growling coming from his stomach. Mrs. Baker, his current foster mother, hadn't fed him again this morning. That's whom he really hated. His foster family. They didn't much care for him, so that meant they didn't feed him to often, or take very good care of him at all really. Mr. Baker even hit him sometimes. Placing the picture back into his pocket delicately, he moved down the street, looking at the different people walking on the sidewalk, trying to find the best target. He'd learned early on that he had an almost natural ability at pick pocketing, even for a six year old.

Scanning the crowd his eyes settled on a woman farther down the sidewalk. She was looking in a window at a necklace that was on display. His first thought was that she was very pretty, with long red hair and pale skin, and sparkling green eyes. She wore a simple lavender sundress and white sandals, her purse dangling easily at her side. What made her an easy target though was the purse was open slightly and he could see her wallet sticking out.

Looking around casually he began to walk over, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he watched the people around him. Los Angeles could be a scary place, especially when you were only five. He still didn't understand why they called it the "City of Angels." He'd never seen one angel as long as he had been there. At least he hadn't until today.

Looking back on it later, he knew he'd moved fast enough. Knew she couldn't have felt it and was certain of that as he made his way down the sidewalk towards the bakery at the corner. That's when he heard her voice behind him and the footfalls as she began to chase him. He rounded the corner and found himself at a dead end. He raced to a nearby trashcan and hunkered down behind it, hoping against hope that she wouldn't find him and take him to the jail. He didn't think he'd mind the jail so much as his punishment when Mr. Baker came for him. He began to tremble as he heard her footsteps on the other side of the trashcans, and how they paused directly in front of the one he was hiding behind.

"Hey," she called softly, her voice gentle. "It's okay I'm not mad. Why don't you come out of there and we can straighten this out," her voice had an accent he couldn't quite detect.

For a moment he thought about coming out. She had looked nice on the street and he'd always been a good judge of character. He'd hated the blonde woman and the Bakers the first time he'd seen them. But then he decided against it. Trust was not something that came easy to him anymore.

"Come on," she said again, this time peeking around the side and looking at him, her hands resting on her knees as she bent over. "I'll buy you something to eat." She held out a hand to him, her green eyes looking deep into his own, smiling at him. Then something happened that had never happened before in his life. 'I'm not going to hurt you. I promise.'

He looked at her wide-eyed. He'd heard her voice as clear as day. But her lips never moved.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Summer watched him grinning as he dug into the pancakes she'd made him in her small apartment, which wasn't far from where he'd lifted her wallet. She'd never seen a boy so small and underfed before, who also had a home as he had. It was sad really. Her smile broadened as he took the syrup bottle in two hands and poured a large amount over the remaining pancake before digging in again. She giggled softly and poured him some more milk.

"Would you like some more?" she asked rising and walking over to the pan.

"Please," he said with a mouth full of food, taking the large glass in both hands and taking a big drink.

She giggled again and brought the pan over to the table, floating the spatula with her mind into her hand.

"You're a mutant huh?" he asked as he watched her dish more onto his plate.

"I think so," she replied, floating the pan back to the stove. "I don't really understand it myself. I woke up in the woods and I couldn't remember anything. All I know is I can do stuff with my mind," she sat back down as he set to work buttering the next plateful.

"How'd you know your name then?" he asked curiously.

"I don't really. All I can remember is the name Summers….and I liked it," she answered handing him another napkin.

"I like it too. It's pretty," he answered taking a big bite. After a few minutes of thoughtful chewing he looked at her again. "Are you gonna take me to the police?" his large green eyes were wide and full of innocent fear. For a brief moment she had the feeling he reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite think of who it was.

"Of course not?" she said shaking her head. "Then who would eat my pancakes?"

He smiled brightly at her and dug into his plate again. "You should call that Professor guy that's always on the TV. He knows everything 'bout mutants."

"Really?" another memory seemed to be pulling at her mind, but just below the surface where she couldn't quite grasp it. "I don't watch much television."

"I do. I like to go to the store in the mall and watch the big screen. They don't let me watch at home," he replied taking another bite.

Summer's heart went out to him. She didn't just imagine how hard t his was for him, she could feel it, deep in her soul. "Listen, instead of wandering around during the day by yourself I want you to come down to the diner I work at, the one I showed you, and see me everyday okay? I can get you something much better than those doughnuts you've been eating alright?"

"Are you sure you won't get inta twouble?" he asked.

"No, they won't mind," she smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "Now hurry and finish up and I'll walk you to school okay Matty?"

Authors Note: Short but an update none the less. Let me know what you think, and FYI, only a week until my spring break so hopefully I'll be able to get another chapter or two up then. Take care y'all and NO FLAMES PLEASE.