Disclaimer: "Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana."

(An: Uh... there's probably not going to be any Storge... not that I don't lurve it so but I couldn't fit it in anywhere... which makes me sad. And I don't think anybody knows how to pronounce Kvch... it's just random knowledge.)

AT THE BUS TERMINAL, 4:00 P.M...

Morph sighed and sat down on one of the benches. It was going to be a long wait for his bus. He'd found the farthest he could go on what he had, and the bus didn't leave for another two hours. It was a while to wait, but it would get him out of the city, and that was the important thing.

IN THE PARK...

Kurt and Rogue had combed through the park. "No sign of Morph," Rogue muttered.

Kurt tapped his lips with a finger (well, actually, thanks to his inducer it looked like two). "Maybe... hmm."

Rogue glanced at him. "What?"

"Forge might have a mutant tracker thingy," he suggested.

"Good idea," Rogue said with a shrug. "We don't have any other leads... let's go."

AT FORGE'S HOUSE...

Forge sighed, tapping the table with a ballpoint pen. "Oh, man," he muttered.

Warlock was happy enough. He was fascinated by the junk in Forge's lab, curiously messing with everything he could get his hands on.

Forge, however, was having a guilt attack. He knew that most of the people at the Institute weren't legal, and that they were under the Institute's guardianship. That meant that if the parents came knocking, and their kid wasn't there... major legal trouble. Morph had said not to tell anybody that he'd been here, meaning he was running away. Meaning that if Forge kept his mouth shut, the people from the mansion would have more trouble than if he just called them and told them he'd seen Morph.

Forge was saved a further guilt trip by someone knocking on the door. Thank GOD... "I'm in here!"

Kurt and Rogue came in, looking around.

"Stop bugging, nothing bites," Forge said.

"What the hell is that!" Rogue demanded, pointing at Warlock, who looked up from rebuilding a cell phone and waved.

"Hello, Self-Friends," he chirped.

"That's Warlock," Forge explained. "He's an alien."

"...Right," said Kurt.

Rogue raised one eyebrow.

"What else is black, yellow, and eats electricity?" Forge replied.

"Good point," Kurt admitted, careful not to touch anything.

"What do you guys want?"

"Did a pale guy come by here? Calls himself Morph?" Kurt asked.

Ok, clench time, Forge... Forge slumped down on the table. "Yes... I think he was heading for the bus terminal."

'Lock looked up from his half-finished mobile. "Query: are we discussing Self-Friend Morph?"

Kurt and Rogue gave Forge odd looks, who shrugged. "It's just the way he talks," Forge replied. "And yeah, that's him."

"Query: are Self's Friends looking for Self-Friend Morph?"

"Yep," Rogue agreed. "Why, did he tell you where he was goin'?"

"No, but Self could find Self-Friend Morph- Self absorbed a little of his lifeglow."

"Well, that's handy," Rogue commented. "Do you know where he is right now?"

Warlock cocked his head and then shook himself. "Self-Friend Morph is probably out of Self's range," he explained. "Self only got a little of Self-Friend Morph's essence, and Self still needs more recharging."

Rogue held up a hand. "Ok, look, Warlock," she said (still looking a little weirded out at the whole "alien" thing), "we'll come back tomorrow. Right now... we've got a DR session oh crap Logan's gonna kill us!"

Kurt grabbed her and they bamfed.

"...That was weird..." Forge mumbled, blinking. Oh, well, at least he wasn't on the guilt trip anymore.

WITH MORPH, 5:52 P.M...

Morph was heading for the bathroom when a bunch of guys walked out. They all stopped talking to glare at Morph. If he'd been able to, he would've blanched. Morph backed up. "Now look, pallies, I don't want trouble, ok?"

"So the mutie freak thinks he can talk, huh?" said the apparent leader.

Ok, bad idea, Morph thought, trying to get anyone's attention. But all the others in the station seemed perfectly happy to just walk on. Shoulda stayed with the disguise... lay low means lay low, idiot!

The group closed in on him. Nobody batted an eye even though Morph was in the middle of the terminal by now. One sharp hit and everything went black.

7:12 P.M...

Morph came around, blinking. He was still lying in the middle of the terminal. Everyone was still ignoring him. The guys were gone, as well as his backpack. Morph moaned, slumped back down on the floor, and regretted it as he bumped the huge bruise on the side of his face. Why oh why couldn't I have healing powers that fix bruises, as well? he mentally moaned. Man, what am I gonna do now?

He spotted a paper lying on a chair. Want ads, here I come... joy.

(I know that's a pretty short chapter, but that's all I need to fit into it... so yeah.)