Chapter 10: Pariah

If Larry's first morning as a student at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters proved to be an indication of what his time there would be like, he reasoned he would have been better off if the scary men in black suits had dragged him away.

Larry woke up tired and sore, his head faintly aching. The first person he saw was of course Bobby Drake, who was doing his best to ignore the intruder in his room as he got dressed. However, that did not stop Bobby from glowering at Larry before he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. Larry remained in bed, reluctant to get up and face his new world. He then remembered why his roommate was in a snit. The professor wanted to talk to him about his attitude problem.

Not my problem, Larry told himself as he retrieved his toothbrush and razor from his bag and left in search of the men's bathroom. Walking past the other bedrooms, Larry faintly hoped that he would not run into that punk Berzerkerin the deserted, empty hall.

Berzerker. Cyclops. Wolverine. Rogue. These mutants all called themselves such strange names. The fact that they were all so descriptive and so accurate bothered Larry.

And what's my weird mutant name going to be? Destiny's already taken… Larry could hear Bobby's mocking voice inside his head.

Larry, Son of Evil.

---

These troubling thoughts were washed away as the hot water sprayed from the showerhead. Tanya had once teased Larry about his long showers and his frequent swims, calling him a merman. She also called him a space case, since he was "always zoning out", but water had a way of helping Larry think. Merman or space case--he could never win with her.

The steamy water began to cool. At first, Larry thought he had simply spent too much time in the shower, but the water was not just lukewarm, it was cold—no, it was freezing.

"Jesus!" Larry exclaimed, shivering and recoiling as tiny pellets of ice sprayed out of the showerhead onto his bare, unprotected body. Even the droplets of water on the tiles had frozen over, and Larry slipped and slid as he tried to stumble out, grabbing onto the curtain for support and ripping it off the pole. He landed on his face and heard a hearty laugh from the doorway as he picked himself up.

"Real smooth, guy," Bobby laughed, his icy arm hanging in the air. Of course, why else would all the water in the shower freeze while Larry was inside it?

Larry snarled, "You son of a bitch!" and jumped to his feet, but Bobby was already darting down the hall. Larry threw open the door ready to charge after him, and remembered only at the last possible moment that he was completely naked. He snatched a towel from the nearby rack and hurriedly wrapped it around his waist before pursuing his frosty roommate.

Bobby had already turned the corner of the long hallway. He had anticipated Larry's fury, but not his speed. Luckily for Bobby the nearest bedroom door on his right creaked open, one tired face peeking out to see what all the yelling was about.

"Bobby? Hey, what's…?"

Grinning from ear to ear, he slapped the pajama-clad boy on the shoulder. "Jamie! Good morning!" Tightening his grip on the boy, Bobby hurled Jamie forward and around the corner. "Take one for the team!"

Bobby could not have timed it better with a stopwatch. It was spectacular in its hilarity—wet, fuming Larry colliding with the bewildered twelve-year-old Jamie, only it wasn't a single pair of arms and legs Larry stumbled over and knocked to the ground—there were five pairs in all, as the impact had triggered Jamie's mutant ability to duplicate himself en masse. Larry hit the ground with another undignified thud and the five little Jamies shouted in unison as they tumbled and tangled their limbs. Sniggering, Bobby sneaked away, but not before the final punch line.

Just as the scurrying feet and shouts had awakened Jamie, the sounds of falling bodies and multiple exclamations of pain awakened the rest of the hall, and soon the other new recruits, Sam, Amara, Roberto, and Ray, were gawking at the awkward sight from their open doors.

And suddenly Larry Trask's life managed to get worse.

---

The hours passed with the tremendous speed of a melting glacier, and as Rogue sat quietly in the back row of Ms. Blake's American History class she listened to the day's lecture with a meager ten percent of her attention. Balancing her chin on one hand, her apathetic eyes wandered across the room until they finally rested on an empty desk at the head of the class, an assigned seat that had been vacant ever since the X-Men were re-admitted to Bayville High.

A sigh escaped her mouth, and would be the first of many that day.

The bell eventually rang, and Rogue waited until all her classmates filed out of the room before making her move. She knew she would likely be late for lunch but she didn't care; the empty desk had finally gotten to her.

"Excuse me, Ms. Blake…do you know anything about Risty?"

The teacher was shuffling papers and hadn't seen Rogue approach; she noticeably stiffened at the sound of that husky Southern drawl. She hesitated to look up from her paperwork as if afraid that a glance from Rogue could turn her to stone.

Rogue knew that Ms. Blake was afraid of her, even if she was no Medusa. It was not the sort of fear that made her cower in a corner or lay awake at night; more often than not it manifested as barely-contained hostility and suspicion. Rogue's mutation wasn't common knowledge, after all. Unlike most of her friends at the Xavier Institute, Rogue had not been caught on camera using her power. This made her a dangerous mystery, and an even bigger pariah than before.

Ms. Blake's plain, pinched face twisted into a look of annoyance and even mild disgust. "Ms. Wilde was called back to England by her parents a while ago. Family emergency."

Rogue's expression fell. With her friend absent from school for so many days, Rogue had started to fear the worst. She was relieved that Risty was all right, but nevertheless…

She's gone.

"Well?" Ms. Blake's sour voice brought Rogue back to reality. "Is that all, or are you going to continue to waste my time?"

Rogue's dejection was quickly replaced with anger. It would be so easy to threaten her teacher, pretend to shoot death rays from her fingertips, or at least give her Scott's patented "you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us" speech. Instead she bit her tongue and left the room, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Screw her, Rogue thought, still seething as she marched into the cafeteria. The startled students who deliberately backed away when they saw her coming only magnified her frustration. Screw this.

The meal the lunch ladies had prepared for the Bayville High student body was unremarkable, just the usual mystery meat and fruit cobbler. Rogue wrinkled her nose at the nasty smell of cooking fat, and impatiently tapped her booted foot on the linoleum floor. She heard two male voices whisper behind her.

"I don't want to eat after a mutie," one boy said. "They probably got radioactive germs."

"They shouldn't even be allowed to eat in the same room as us," the other muttered just loud enough to be sure Rogue heard him.

Her head snapped up; eyes flashing, she let them know they had gotten her attention. She recognized them—Tim and Ron, two muscle-brained clods in red letter jackets who were known to hang in Duncan Matthew's circle. The first day back at Bayville High after the fallout from "Mutant Day," the two of them had pinned Scott down while Duncan stole his ever-important sunglasses to provoke him into using his power so that he would be expelled. The three jocks had high-tailed it when Rogue and Kitty came to Scott's defense, but now that she was outnumbered their old bravado returned.

"What are you lookin' at?" Tim's upper lip curled into a sneer.

Baring his yellow teeth, Ron sniggered, "Is the big bad mutie vampire going to suck our blood?"

Rogue narrowed her eyes into dark crescents, and her balled fists began to shake. She knew they were only trying to provoke her into doing something stupid, and this time it was with their words instead of their fists. She did not need her mutant power to take down these assholes; just one move taken from Logan's self-defense class and they would be kissing the grease stains on the floor. She took a half step forward.

It would be so easy…

"Hey guys!" said a cheerful voice. Rogue was startled as Scott inserted himself into the lunch line and put a protective hand on her shoulder. There was an edge to his jovial smile, and his free hand touched the rim of his ruby-red shades. "Long time no see."

The two jocks almost instantly backed down, as if realizing that if they indeed forced the mutants to use their powers, they would be in the immediate line of fire. They reconsidered their plan and stalked off.

"Pff, whatever, freak," said Ron dismissively, for he could come up with no better retort.

Tim added, "Disgustin'. Suddenly I've lost my appetite."

Rogue sighed in quiet relief once they were gone. Scott's hand lingered on her shoulder, and she was uncomfortably conscious of it. The students surrounding the mutants looked away, turning their attention back to their food, the floor, or their friends. Of course, not a single one of them had said anything when Tim and Ron accosted Rogue, let alone done something about it. The mutant problem was not their problem, according to their selfish logic.

"Are you okay?"

Rogue nodded once. "I wasn't going to use my power on them, Scott," she whispered, feeling guilty about her earlier violent impulses.

"I know."

"Hey you two, stop holding up the line! You gettin' lunch or what?"

Rogue flinched in response to the gray, angry lunch lady behind the counter. She looked at the boy standing at her side.

"Let's eat," Scott said with a shrug.

---

Rogue vented her built-up frustrations on her mystery meat, attacking it with her knife and fork. The cheap plastic did little to penetrate the tough, flavorless side of beef.

"…And that's that," she said to Kurt, who sat directly across from her at the X-Men's crowded table. "Risty's back in England. I never even had the chance to say goodbye to her."

Kurt reached across the table to touch her hand. "I'm sorry, Rogue."

"Yeah," she said with a quiet, resigned sigh, "So am I."

Despite her stomach's hungry growls, Rogue could not bring herself to eat the mystery meat. Looking at it made her think of Tim and Ron, and she was miserable enough without thoughts about them. Suddenly Kurt perked up, for he had noticed someone in the crowd over Rogue's head.

"Amanda!" he called, waving his hand to get his girlfriend's attention. She waved back, a pretty smile on her face. He stood up to go and greet her, but then he remembered Rogue's presence. "Er, is it okay if I…"

Rogue did not protest. "Go ahead. Eat lunch with your girlfriend."

"Are you sure?"

"Beat it, fuzzball," she said with a smirk. Kurt obeyed.

Finally deciding to take the risk, Rogue took a bite out of the mystery meat and instantly regretted it. She turned her attention to the fruit cobbler and ate in silence.

The X-Men now had their own corner of the cafeteria, ironically the same spot where the official Bayville High outcasts, the Brotherhood of Mutants, had squatted before they were all expelled. Once, there had been several splinter groups. Jean would often eat with her human boyfriend Duncan and their equally human friends, Kitty would sometimes sneak away to have lunch with her not-so-secret boyfriend Lance, and the new recruits usually tried to stay away from the "boring" older X-Men. Now they all huddled together, their ties with virtually all other students permanently severed.

Rogue could not be mad at Kurt for still having Amanda. Amanda was a nice girl--perhaps more importantly, a brave girl--and Rogue knew it was selfish of her to expect Kurt to stay by her side and indulge her sullen moods. The two of them had been members of the Angst Club for so long she did not want to deprive him of his happiness.

Sitting at the other end of the table was another happy couple: Scott and Jean. Of course they would deny it, but to anyone with functional eyes the mutual attraction was obvious. The way they looked at each other, everyone else in the world might as well cease to exist.

No one had ever looked at Rogue like that.

"So how about that thing with the new guy this morning?"

Roberto's question brought Rogue out of her reverie. She listened in.

Bobby waved his hand in the air, dismissing the subject. "The dude is crazy. Why else would someone start running through the hall soaking wet and naked?"

If they had not already snagged Rogue's attention, they would have then.

Kitty was shocked. "Wait, what?"

"And from what I saw, he practically assaulted Jamie," Amara joined in, pointing her fork at the air.

Bobby smirked. "Yep. Crazy."

"I knew it," Ray muttered with a sneer.

"Actually, that's not exactly what I heard," Sam said, leaning against the table and looking square at Bobby. "I talked to Jamie after breakfast, and he said that you--"

"Hey," Bobby quickly cut Sam off and changed the subject, "This meatloaf is totally barf-worthy."

Rogue silently agreed.

---

The rest of the school day passed slowly and without incident. Nevertheless, Rogue was relieved when Scott's convertible drove through the Xavier Institute's gates. Even though it had only recently risen from the ashes, the mansion was still their home, their sanctuary from the outside world.

The first thing Rogue wanted to do was see Irene. She was still somewhat uncertain of her foster mother's intentions and her renewed place in her life, but despite her trepidation Rogue wanted to narrow the gap between them. Tossing aside the backpack that contained the homework she had no plans to finish, Rogue walked up the stairs to the guest room that was now Irene's.

She knocked on the door. "Irene? It's me."

No answer.

Rogue knocked again, louder that time, but there was still no response. Finally, she turned the knob slowly and peeked inside the room. The bed was made and the room had hardly been disturbed. Irene Adler was nowhere inside it.

Sighing, Rogue closed the door. Her quest continued. She spotted Ororo down the hall and called out to her. "Hey, Ororo, have you seen Irene?"

The elder mutant paused to recollect. "Not lately, no. She was in the library earlier today, however. Perhaps she's still there."

"Okay." Rogue nodded. "The library. Thanks."

---

Larry sat in solitude in the library, a large number of books scattered on the table in front of him.

"I'm afraid we don't have much here right now," Jean had explained during his tour the previous evening. "When the original mansion was destroyed our entire collection was lost."

He was lucky enough to find reading material anyway. There were engineering journals he thought he would enjoy, plus various other fiction and nonfiction books for him to skim. His tutoring under Mr. McCoy would not begin until the next day, so he enjoyed his free time while it lasted.

Of course all the other students were away for the day (with the sole exception of little Jamie Madrox, whose inability to control his mutant power made it impossible for him to attend public school) and Irene was in conference with Professor Xavier, so Larry had to entertain himself. It was just as well—he had no desire to face anyone after the mortifying spectacle that morning. He was surprised by the sound of footsteps, and was positively startled when he glanced up from The Once and Future King to see Rogue standing beside him.

Images of the future suddenly returned.

The girl is the key. The girl is the key. The girl is the key—

No. He shook the thoughts away. "Ah…hey."

If Rogue noticed anything strange about the way he looked at her, she gave no outward sign. "Hey. Is Irene around?"

He shrugged. "I haven't seen her in a while. She was meeting with the Professor, last time I checked."

A look of disappointment eclipsed her face. "Oh. Well then, I better not interrupt them."

"Uh. Guess not."

An uncomfortable silence passed.

Stealing a glance at the many books resting on the table, Rogue felt a small urge to make conversation with the new recruit. "You must be a real bookworm. Have you been in the library all day?"

"Pretty much," Larry replied. "This place is so big that if I wandered around and got lost no one would ever find my body."

Rogue smirked. "It ain't that big."

Larry's shy awkwardness faded away. He returned the wry smile. "So how many mansions have you lived in?"

"Oh, you should know. This is the second time you've moved into my place, after all."

Larry leaned back in his chair and closed the book in his lap. "I'll say this--your 'old' mansion didn't have such a great library. Back there, the only books that weren't written in Braille were written by Anne Rice."

Rogue placed one hand on her hip. Her voice lost its playful edge. "Those were my books."

"Oh…right."

"Well, well, well, it's so nice to hear my two darlings getting acquainted."

Both heads turned to see that Irene had joined them. Rogue and Larry were equally startled, for neither had heard her approach. She addressed the young Mr. Trask first.

"I'm sorry to separate you two, but the Professor would like to see you, Larry. He wants to discuss your formal training."

Larry's eyes traveled from Irene to Rogue, and then back to Irene. He hesitated for a moment. "Okay, sure." He stood up from his chair and gathered his books under one arm.

Rogue touched her foster mother's shoulder. "Irene, I'd hoped we could talk--"

Irene's voice was apologetic. "I'm afraid not right now. The Professor wants me to be there with Larry as well."

Withdrawing her hand, Rogue frowned. She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from saying something snappy. The day had been bad enough without her making it worse.

As Irene ushered Larry out of the library, he gazed over his shoulder at Rogue. Their eyes met.

"See you around?" he asked hesitantly, hopefully.

"Yeah," Rogue replied, flashing a weary smile. "You will."

---

Rogue exited the library only to bump into Bobby Drake right as she opened the door.

"Whoops, my bad," he said, but as she brushed past him he called after her. "Hey, didn't my new roommate just walk off with your mom?"

One look at his wide, eager grin told her he was fishing for gossip. She would not indulge him. "Don't get any ideas, Frosty. They have the same power, remember? They're going to talk to the Professor about training."

"Hmmph."

Remembering the conversation at lunch, Rogue thought to ask, "Why were you tellin' everyone that the new guy's crazy? He seemed perfectly normal to me."

Bobby scratched his messy hair and chuckled. "Oh, there was this thing that happened this morning. You weren't around when it happened."

She arched her brow. "Is that the same thing that Sam was tryin' to get in a word about?"

Bobby drew back, defensive. "Jeez, you've been spending too much time with Scott. Why are you giving me the third degree? All the other new recruits saw it too."

Immune to the insult, Rogue let the comment about Scott slide. She rolled her eyes. "Saw what?"

"All right, all right…Loser Larry was chasing me down the hall—completely bare ass naked—and then ran into Jamie and knocked the poor kid down. He was practically crushed under all his dupes. Everyone in my hall opened their doors in time to see it."

Rogue shook her head. "And what reason could he possibly have for chasin' a saint like you?"

He chuckled again. "Weeeeell, I did try to freeze him when he was in the shower."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me this is some kinda new mutant hazing you cooked up."

Bobby wasn't even trying to deny his actions anymore. He was actually proud of what he had done. "Hey, it was payback for getting me in trouble with Professor X. I figured he would be too embarrassed to rat me out, and I guess I was right."

Rogue's eyes widened with surprise. She and Bobby had never been particularly close or friendly with one another, but she still would not have expected this from him. His pranks were never this mean-spirited.

"What did he ever do to you?"

He scoffed. "You of all people should know where I'm coming from, Rogue. If it weren't for his dad's super-sized Transformer, you and the others would have never been captured or taken to Area 51…" The cheerful mask disappeared, and suddenly Rogue was looking at a very different Bobby Drake. "We never would have been exposed. Our lives would still be normal."

Rogue studied him, taking in every word. As he finished, she could not help but think of Ms. Blake and Tim and Ron. Nevertheless…

"But that's not Larry's fault." She said his name for the first time. "Mystique blew up the mansion and almost killed you and the other new recruits. Do you blame Kurt for that?"

Bobby looked away. He was obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. "That's not the same."

"You don't really mean that Larry should be punished for what his father did." Rogue probed deeper. "Come on, Bobby, what's the real problem here?"

He inhaled deeply. "It's not fair."

"What?"

"It's not fair!" Bobby exclaimed. "This whole thing isn't fair. His old man ruined everything for us…Jubilee and Rahne are gone. They were my friends—they were cool. Why did we have to trade them for Trask's loony kid?"

At first, she did not know what to say. Finally, Rogue replied in a quiet, sympathetic tone, "Don't think of it like that, Bobby."

"How can I not?" And with an annoyed huff, he turned around and left Rogue standing in the library doorway to ponder the sad, strange situation by herself.

---

Cal Rankin parked his truck across the street from the townhouse, almost bumping a black SAAB as he maneuvered into the tight space. As he trotted up the steps to the townhouse's front door, Cal realized he was sweating and wiped his palms on his jeans. He pressed the doorbell and waited.

Tanya Trask unbolted the lock and looked at him through the narrow opening with curious eyes. She looked pale in the dim light, with two long braids framing her wan, tired face.

"Cal?" she said, remembering the face but having trouble with the name. "What are you doing here?"

Cal stiffened, suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe this was a mistake. "I just wanted to check on you, see if there were any…any leads. I called, but you never answer the phone."

"I almost didn't open the door. Things have been pretty nutty, as I'm sure you know. Reporters still show up…it drives us crazy." Tanya paused to look behind her and checked on Robert Chalmers, who was still in the living room where she left him watching the news. She stepped outside into the warm evening air shutting the door quietly behind her. "Let's talk out here."

Cal's arm had recovered from the compound fracture it had sustained after he had dumbly wandered in front of a moving car weeks earlier. It brushed against Tanya's body as they sat close together on the cold stone steps.

"I hope I'm not troubling you. I haven't seen you around school."

"I haven't been going."

"Oh." Cal stared straight ahead, avoiding her eyes. "I guess that's for the best, with all those rumors going around…"

His words hit Tanya like a slap in the face. "What?"

Way to slip up, Rankin. He winced.

"I know it's all trash talk, but there's gossip that maybe Larry…had something to do with all that scary stuff in Bayville. That he worked with your dad and…ran off."

"What the hell?" Tanya exploded. Her once-pale cheeks were now burning red with indignation. "Why does everyone believe that 'apples don't fall far from the tree' crap? Larry isn't a psycho—and he was never in Bayville!"

Tanya's temper was something to be feared. Backtracking, Cal said, "Don't shoot the messenger, all right? At least I know Larry's cool."

That seemed to pacify her. She released a sigh and buried her face in her hands. Once again Cal felt uneasy; he wondered if maybe he should put his arm around Tanya to comfort her, but thought better of it. He then noticed the medical tape wrapped around her hand.

"What happened?"

She noticed what he was staring at. "Oh, this? …this is nothing. I was drinking out of a glass yesterday and I guess I squeezed it so hard it shattered." Her cheeks were red again, this time out of embarrassment. "My nerves are practically shot."

"I bet," said Cal lamely, thinking anything else he said that this point would be useless. A silence followed, the only sounds in the air belonging to the Subaru that rolled past them on the street, windows down and bass thumping.

"I saw you on the news a while ago," Cal offered. "Nice throw."

"Oh God," Tanya whimpered, hiding her face with her hands, "I don't want to talk about that."

"I was just going to add, if it were me, I would have thrown something a lot bigger than a shoe at those jerk-offs."

Tanya made a sound behind her hands that might have been a chuckle. Cal smiled sadly.

"You know," Cal said, voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing him, "I just feel so bad about all this. Not just about Larry's disappearance, but, well…the last day he was at school, he was really freaking out. I think he was trying to tell me something important, but I just laughed it off. Then I got in that accident like the dumbass I am, and then…he was gone."

"Hmmm."

"And there's something else…I know it sounds totally stupid, but I had a dream about Larry that night. I guess his freakout had gotten under my skin, but I remember--and this is weird--it was before I even heard he went missing or what your dad was doing. That…Sentinel thing was attacking Larry--"

"Don't." Tanya hissed behind clenched teeth. "I do not want to hear anything about my brother being attacked. I don't care if it was a stupid dream."

"I'm sorry!" Cal blanched. Yeah, Rankin, you really are a dumbass.

"What I was getting at was that it was so stupid to dream about that robot going after Larry as if he was one of those mutants. Larry's the most normal guy I know. Not a freak." He paused, taking in a deep breath. "I really want him to be okay too, Tanya."

She exhaled. "Mutants…"

Turning his head slightly, Cal stole a glance at the girl sitting beside him. Her legs pulled up to her chest, Tanya stared ahead into the blue evening sky, surely thinking of her brother. She was pale, cheerless, utterly crushed. She was a shadow of herself.

In all honesty, Cal had never liked Tanya. The few times Larry had invited him over to his place, she had been the typical bratty baby sister. Always complaining about something—the food Larry cooked for dinner, the movies he and Cal tried to watch on TV, the curfew her father had set. Cal had always thought Larry was lucky to have a father almost always away and a house to himself, but now Cal understood—Larry might as well be the son of Frankenstein, with a mad scientist like that for an old man. Cal's own workaholic father paled in comparison. So, for the first time, he found himself sympathizing with the youngest Trask child.

"Mutants…" she repeated. Cal saw there was a new expression on her face. Her grief had been replaced with a look of grim determination, as if she had made an important realization.

"That's it, Cal. Mutants. The mutants took Larry."

A/N: Another late update, but at least this chapter is longer than most. Originally Cal was supposed to reappear much earlier and play a bigger role in the story, but his part was cut dramatically in order to speed things along. His dream about Larry was just a little reference to the comics, so he won't be taking the name of The Mimic anytime soon.

Thanks for reading, everyone! --Sandoz