AN: Yeah, yeah, I know I said this chapter would be a lot lighter than the last, but I've had an absolutely atrocious couple of weeks and couldn't seem to raise myself from its dank nature. Still, the intensity is a lot less as the x-men make their 1st appearance and Jubilee and Wolverine first meet. Please review; I need the cheer sad panda. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: X-men and all its affiliates belong to Stan Lee and Marvel, this work being one of fiction, all ideas coming from the inner workings of an obsessed comic geek. I have nothing. Thank you.

New York, New York Three Years Later…

          The sun had not yet risen, the clouds still varnished their winter chill and as far as Marie was concerned, there was little reason to awaken. Unfortunately, it was not her choice. As such, she found herself jogging despairingly behind another disgruntled form.

                "C'mon now Rogue! Two more laps to go," a voice much to perky for the early hours chided, the iceman chuckling sadistically as he rounded his final bend. A shorter brunette caught along side her, irate question leaving her panting lips.

                "Rogue, I understand the importance of 'exercising' our bodies along with our abilities, but why can't we do it, you know, after sunrise?" Her only sympathy manifested as a sorrowful laugh and an empty shrug. The attractive, (albeit sweaty) junior sighed. "Right."

                It was hours after this daily occurrence that the same group of mindful joggers found themselves before a different building; high as it was wide, dark brick adding to its distinctive guise as dead ivy continued their zombie-crawl up the sides. The words 'Bayville Senior High' blazed unimpressed under the waning sky as several hundred students milled before its closed gates.

                They broke off, the tall all-American Boy Scout trailing alongside the stunning redhead, eyes hidden beneath quartz lenses; the athletically lofty Cajun leading an edgy, attitude rocker whilst the haughty, regal stature of the platinum African goddess marched her own route.

                Left on his own was the lone wolf; the mighty wolverine. Berserker, insane and as social as a rabid dog, he perched on the edge of his bike. The chill of the brutal Westchester wind brought no pain to his bare arms. Even if it had, he would felt it for but a fraction of a moment before his body healed over. His body copied much the action of his mind. Live; survive; heal. Domination is key and losing is never an option. This law had kept him alive for all the years he could not remember, and they were certain to allow him passage through this stage.

 Sucking the last bit from his cigarette, he extinguished its light in his palm, idly fascinated as the skin bubbled and blistered before quickly covering the wound in clean, fresh flesh. Dragging a heavy booted leg over the top of his motorcycle, he headed into the crowded building.

Jock. Loser. Cheerleader. Jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Jubilee watched the passing teens lazily, her mind automatically processing them as they were. The same. Her slim, starved form cradled itself oddly in the dark, wooden chairs of Bayville High's counselling centre. What might have at one time been a sweater hung over her bony shoulders in stitched rags, the sleeves of a black shirt peaking from beneath a dirty pink t-shirt. Her thighs were covered only by a pair of baggy cut-off's, the ends dangling just below her bruised knees. Black clad feet swung impassively as she awaited the arrival of some TV-studio nerd to show her the cordial high school classism.

She needn't remove her blaring earphones to understand what the students already thought of her;

"God! Look at what she's wearing!"

"Hello! Grunge was over for a reason!"

"She must think she's soo rebellious. Whatever. I hate poser's."

Internally, she shrugged. It made no difference what they thought, mostly because they didn't. They saw different; they saw strange and unseen and they were scared. Therefore, they responded only as they best knew how.

"Here's fifty cents," yelled a callous voice. "Call yourself a hygienist!"

Through pitiless ignorance. Picking up the two quarters, she shrugged and shoved them into her pockets, ready for future use.

It did not take long for the halls to empty and save for the clatter of a few remaining feet, the corridors were all but vacated. Through the frosted glass, Jubilee could feel the arduous glares of the office personal. She sighed.

"Time to go for a walk then," she muttered. Just then, a new presence threw itself before her. She glanced up, eyes peeking from below a thick black toque to see the visage of Principal Kelly.

"Jubilation, I presume?" He waited for no response. Extending his hand, he awaited her acceptance. She refused, instead raising an eyebrow in his wake. A look of foolishness crept across his features and he shrugged the refusal as a mistake, nevertheless continuing on. "So sorry about the wait. Great confusion always follows a new morning," he chuckled falsely. She kept her weary gaze unaltered. He cleared his throat. "Very well then, you've already reviewed the information package? We sent it to your parents…" her eyes narrowed at the accusation. He didn't notice. "All that is left now is a quick our of the school, and you're ready to begin your new time here!"

                A shorter, burlier figure stepped from behind him, and Jubilee felt her breath catch. He was unlike anyone she had ever seen; Barely reaching five-eight but with massively wide, rounded shoulders and well defined muscles, his face told the story of a man not much older than she, yet at the same time, timeless. While most teenaged boys found it difficult to sprout any trace of testosterone increase, he had not only a head full of wild, shaggy chestnut locks, but bristly stubble barely exceeding the three o'clock shadow.

                It, however, was neither his stature nor his flannel dress code that caught her attention. It was his eyes. They held a depth greater than any sea, equivalent to the power of a black hole. Within their cobalt depths swirled so many secrets, hypnotizing her with their promises of half-truths and mixed lies. They were familiar; locked behind a black screen. Breaking the spell between them, she blinked at the realization. He's like me.

                "May I introduce your guide, umm, uhh," he stuttered for a name, squinting his beady eyes behind the oversized spectacles.

                "Logan," his voice was low and gruff, more a growl than anything else. It suddenly struck her odd that they would have chosen such an obvious recluse for their systematic integration. She shrugged the thought; their educational system was not renown for their genius. "C'mon then, let's git this over with." And he stalked forward, neither waiting nor caring if she followed. She smirked.

                "The first floor is mostly used for the arts; English, drama, CTS," he motioned to various doors, opening one and pointing to the expanse of PC's and monitors. A school with money? Well, this was certainly new.

                They continued up the second level (maths) the third (sciences) and the fourth (research and study). Along the way, their silence was broken by irregular facts, none of which Jubilee paid the slightest attention.

                The lunch bell tolled, signalling not only the end of their tour, but also the end of the first half of the day.

                "Any questions?" he barked, clearly bothered at having to spend his morning lugging a vapidly ignorant teen about. She could most likely afford all she chose, and yet she remained swaddled in threads unfit for trash bags. At first, she said nothing. Just as he was to leave, she spoke; so silently only he heard.

                "Where're you from?" Pause. Glancing back her way, Logan raised a bushy brow.

                "Why?" she shrugged.

                "You have an accent." He eyed her suspiciously and she felt her mind provide him another check. Cautious, vigilant, rude. She was beginning to like the fur ball more and more.

                "Canada." She nodded.

                "Used to the cold then?" again, he cast her a curious stare. "No jacket," she stated pointedly.

His eyes burned into her own and she felt oddly like a rodent caught by a giant cat. It brought back memories…memories she had tried so hard to repress. Her eyes returned his heat and, as if accepting her challenge, he smirked.

"It's lunch; go do something useful." She rolled her eyes.

"Like what? Join the cheer squad?" He shrugged, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

"Don't know, don't care." He breathed a long drag, grinning contently as it smoked from his mouth. Jubilee watched as he headed to the parking lot, presumably to waste the remaining hours of the day.

Checking her watch, she noted lunch was likely to be over in a few minutes. Deciding she could easily catch up on her skipping record, she turned back among the troops, thundering back through the metallic doors. In the distance, she heard the roar of a racing cycle as it revved and she felt a grin creep onto her lips. He was interesting, this one.

The remainder of the day was uneventful and included her sleeping through most (if not all) of her classes. She had taken a slight detour that afternoon, and ended arriving at the door minutes before midnight. The mall; it was her calling. What more need be said?

The Simmons left their door unlocked. They were just that kind of people. Jubilee had been sent to New York about a month ago, after being released from Juvy Hall. The orphanage had promised her a good home, if she swore not to run; mind you, it is much easier to get what one desires if they simply indulge those who believe in their power. So she had stayed; her longest time ever. It was the first Christmas in a long time that she had spent with a family.

Things are never how they seem, and it didn't take long for Jubilee to uncover the sick truth of this nuclear trade in. The mother is just as alcoholic, the father just as perverted, and the actual child just as messed up. She had long given up on normalcy.

Creeping past the ensnaring locks, she slinked up the stairwell, careful to make little noise. Her stomach grumbled and she suddenly realised she had not eaten all day. Swallowing her hunger as she'd done before, she kept her silence until she entered the small box she called her own. Furnished only with a bed and dresser, it was all she wanted.

Through the walls, she could hear the thumping of an unwilling body against the wall, and the muffled scream accompanying the attack. She plugged her earphones into her ears blasting the bass as loud as the guitars could scream. Not even bothering to remove her clothing, she slipped under the covers, nestling in comfortably between two corners. It wasn't long until darkness claimed her, horrors following her even into a subconscious abyss.

"Momma," she whispered, a silent cry meant for no one, a mute tear seen by the unknown.

                                                                                                                                                                               

Next chapter: The x-men team stops at the mall for a little Luke day shopping, and guess who they see performing a little light show? How does she do it? (Idea incorporated from Jubilee's 1st appearance in the Uncanny X-men). This new student also seems to be stirring up some trouble at school. Has Logan perhaps found a kindred spirit? Read on and find out!