Hi readers (…)! I'd like to make a shout out to my first ever reviewer that hasn't been a member of my family or just out of pity from a friend…Drum roll… Reyavie! Thank you, thank you!

Disclaimer- I do not own X-men. Phew there's a load of my back…

Rebound

Chapter Two- Lost Appearances

"What the? How do you know my name?" I demanded.

"That will be explained later."

From the look on her face, I figured that 'later' would be a long time coming. She wore a small little grin similar to the one I'm told I wear whenever I'm up to something. Except mine grin is said to be a nice but naughty smile to sum it up.

I looked around at the mummified teenagers.

"Why are they like that? What did you do to them?"

"You'll find that out as well."

I growled and her grin widened. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was enjoying this. Despite what I may make people think, I'm…usually… aware of what is going on around me, and I like knowing what is going on.

This isn't making me happy.

"Were you the one watching me?"

"No."

"Then who was?"

She looked down at me with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"Let me guess," I said dryly, "You'll find that out later…"

"Good guess."

I looked away from her, absentmindedly picking some of the larger chunks of pasta from my pants as I waited for her to do something. She looked around at the schoolyard, apparently waiting for me to do the same thing. I shifted my seat so that I was sitting on a somewhat cleaner patch of pavement.

"Are you here for a reason?" I asked. Hoping she at least had an answer for staring at me oddly for the past few minutes.

"Yes."

I looked at her, gesturing for her to continue on in her explanation. She smirked.

"Well?" I asked, anger seeping into my voice.

"Come with me," she said, walking passed me, in the direction of the back exit from school property.

Dear Lord, she was as annoying as I was.

Okay… Walk off with a stranger or stand in a mass of mannequins and be covered in garbage? … …

I'll take my chances.

I followed the stranger.

She ended up walking into the park, and me being the good little puppet I am followed behind her silently.

Why was I here again?

The weather decided to have a sort of mood swing and it turned chilly, I rubbed my arms for the added warmth to my exposed skin.

"Come sit down Brooke," the redheaded lady/model said and gestured to a spot on the bench next to her. I looked at her suspiciously, and checked for gum, tacks or some 'X' marks the spot ordeal, before sitting down as far away from her on the petit bench without completely falling off. I then watched her expectantly, waiting for her to give me some explanation for her being here.

Her explanation was silence.

"Do you want me to say I'm ready or something? 'Cause I am… and I have school to..." I cut it off there, after what happened I didn't particularly want to get back any time soon.

"Brooke, you're a special person," she started. She's the fourth person to tell me that in my life, mom, dad, and my speech therapist (when she was trying to make me say special) had all beat her to it.

"So I've been told."

"What have you been hearing on the news lately?"

I shrugged. Might as well not waste my breath if she'd end up telling me eventually anyway. Ah, valuable oxygen.

She looked at me like I was insane and I gave her a look to continue, quite obviously I wasn't the type of person to get wrapped up in all the depressing stuff found in the news. I preferred cartoons and comedies, thank you very much. Life is too short to get depressed over things that I have no control over. She sighed and went on.

"Mutants." She started and I tensed up remembering what Erin told me earlier that day.

"They were going on about how these mutant people are looking for more mutant people."

Gulp.

"They're not as bad as people make them out to be," she continued.

'Right,' I thought sarcastically, 'with the superpowers and the hidden identities… They're completely harmless…'

"They're supposed to be in town – today!"

Double gulp.

She sighed, "You aren't listening to this are you?"

"Enough to know what you're talking about," So what if my hearing isn't good, and my attention span is even worse…

"Do you know where this is going?"

"Not really. Don't particularly care much neither."

How about now?

My eyes widened in surprise. Eep. That was in my head right?

Yes it was.

"So why am I here then?"

"You are a mutant Brooke, and a very confusing one at that." She smiled. Shyeah! Like that'll make me feel better. What's they difference between a normal (well… as 'normal' as you can get…) mutant and a confusing one? Exercise? Postal code?

"I want my mom." Were the last words I said to her before she obeyed my wish.

Oh the power.

Well, once those words were obeyed, I immediately wished I had thought of something more practical and selfish. Like money or candy… or…something, anything other than what I got.

I walked up the drive towards the huge manor that had a larger than life garden in the back with lilac trees and a whole bunch of other trees and plants that I have yet to discover the name of. But they smell good. If that counts for anything. I reached the door and one of the housemaids opened the door and welcomed me in.

"Good afternoon Miss Brooke, Welcome home."

I gave her a look. A look that clearly tells that that word is not to be spoken around me.

She got the hint and moved on, "Did you have something for your dinner yet?" She asked as I stepped in with Jean.

"Yes Rosie, where is my mother at the moment?"

"She's out in the entertainment room Miss Brooke, shall I tell her of your arrival?"

"No that's okay, thank you."

She stepped out of the way and let me and Jean pass then tottered off in the direction of kitchen.

I walked down the hall and passed my mom's numerous paintings coating the walls.

"Impressive artwork. Your home is very lovely." Jean offered.

I grunted something unintelligibly and entered the room where my mother was said to be.

It started out well enough… But then again, most things do…

"Mom! I'm…here…" I called out, stopping myself from saying…that…word.

"Hello dear," I heard her call back, "you know we've been living here for a while now, I wish you'd call it your home."

There's a really easy answer for that.

It's not my home.

That was about when it started to go into a definite nosedive.

Mom's response to Jean's explanation as to why she was here just about killed me inside. The expression that came to my mom's face when Jean told her I had special powers that I needed to nurture so I wouldn't bring any damage to myself or others made my heart drop to my stomach – and then lower as Jean went on.

It was the look that she had for so long on her face after dad died. Like the person she knew had died in her eyes too, leaving a shell of what her daughter had been.

From her eyes I knew she would never see me as Brooke anymore. I wasn't the little girl she had comforted when I had a nightmare or skinned my knee. I wasn't the teenager coming to her for guy advice.

I was nothing to her.

Except a piece of mutie trash.

I almost wish she had yelled at me. A long, drawn-out argument would have suited me just fine right about now, I had some frustrations to work out, but she only said five cold words.

"Get out of my house."

Stunned, I didn't say anything. I was frozen to my spot. My mother turned away from me and walked into the living room. Without moving from my spot I could watch her sit in her chair in the living room and stare lifelessly at the television.

Realizing she had nothing else to say to me I felt the pain overwhelm me.

I held back my tears and bolted out of the house as fast as my numb legs could carry me. I had to get as far away from her, that place, as I could. I slid down against a tree when I realized I had no idea where I was supposed to go.

'Why,' I thought, 'why would she do that? I'm her daughter… her only daughter… how?' I wrapped my arms around my knees and let the tears fall. Not caring if anyone was watching. I just let my silent tears fall unheeded to the forest floor.

Some time later I realized I had left something behind.

"Brooke? Where are you…?" Jean called out. I found myself unable to care that she couldn't find me; I didn't want to go back. I wouldn't be able to. I guess my sigh gave away my position because she came over to where I was rooted and looked down. "Things will be ok," she said, trying to be comforting, I just buried my head deeper in my jeans and didn't answer.

We sat like that for a long time, with me hunched over on the ground and Jean sitting on the ground in front of me, waiting. When I finally felt that the river of tears had stopped making their way down my face, I looked up at the redhead. She was looking at me sadly. We didn't say anything for a few more moments and then she finally broke the silence.

"This is part of your power," she said, completely off topic, gesturing at me with one hand, "If you haven't figured it out yet."

I looked down at myself and while I was pretty positive I didn't feel any different, I looked it. My body was melding into the ground, my skin, clothes, everything from my waist down had turned to shadow, if you can imagine something like that, and had become part of the shadow of the tree.

Well, things just keep on getting better, don't they?

I stood from my spot holding on to my forearms and looked back up at Jean. I felt a little tingle in my legs and, looking down again, rightfully figured that I was visible to onlookers again.

"Ready to go?" Jean asked and moved backwards from where she was standing in front of me.

What was I supposed to do? It didn't seem that my mother was going to let me back in there now. "Go where?"

She pointed a finger to the sky, "Up."

I looked up waiting for the classic 'Look up, look down, your pants are falling down,' that my older brother used to torment me with, that I always countered by kicking his knees out from beneath him. It usually worked, but often enough my fantasized muscles made it seem like a pinch and he would reach around and flick me in the forehead. Instead of that happening, there was a plane, well helicopter actually, hovering silently above us. Would this be the time I'd actually get to say, 'Beam me up…Jeannie!" ? I thought wryly, trying to make light of what was more definitely the worst day of my existence. As tempting as the thought was, I'd save it for a better, more opportune time.

Jean looked at me in puzzlement.

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"Yep."

"Then you might want to close your eyes."

I don't think she liked the Jeannie comment…

And up we went via Jean's flying powers.

I took her advice.

Now here I am, in a helicopter, plopped down in the belted rock they passed off as a seat. Right. We're heading to some place in New York where I'll be living in some big house with all kinds of people who are just like me. For their sake they should hope they're not exactly like me, I don't think the world would be able to handle it. A so-called bonus being that some of them were even my same age. Feel my non-existent excitement. I figure the ride would take a while, so I sunk down as far as I could and began to slowly sink into depression.

I wonder where Drew is now… Drew is my older brother by five years who is residing in Edmonton and looking for work as complained about endlessly on the phone last week. Childhood was rough with him as a brother, with the noogies, wedgies, and the stealing of my stuffed teddy Mr. Bonkers. Whom I stashed away in one of the bags I managed to take along with me.

How did I manage to get back in the house you ask? I'll admit it now, there are a select few advantages in travelling with an experienced telepath. I got all my stuff and a few keepsakes of Mom's while she was 'busy'. And let me tell you that getting me and the luggage into this flying contraption was a petrifying experience, and probably illegal in three c ountries. I wonder how Drew will take the news… If he finds out, I suppose. I don't expect mother dearest will be relaying it to anyone anytime soon.

Mom.

My mom with her auburn hair and blue eyes, who wore her black-rimmed glasses while she painted… She always smelt like her studio too. She kept the windows open so the sweet smell of the lilacs could waft inside. My mom who makes the best cookies ever. We might have had a housemaid, but she always made sure her cookies were the only ones eaten by Drew or I.

I can't believe she acted the way she did. I didn't think there was anything that could come between us after we got through Dad passing away. We had more than a mother-daughter relationship, we could listen to each other, and while I talked she would braid my hair, since I don't know how to braid. We were friends, I think I could even stretch to saying that we were best friends.

My mother cared about me a lot, and to her, my birthday was one of the most important days of the year. I knew I would have to talk to her eventually. I couldn't just leave things as they were… Nothing is going to stop me from talking to her. Well… unless the phones are being cleaned, or they're broken or something… Nope, my will power will conquer all!

Well…maybe not world hunger… Or cancer… Or the common cold… Or making a better mousetrap…

But… what if she doesn't want to talk to me… Does she still consider me her daughter?

Now I'm getting frustrated. Stupid chopper. With stupid nothing to do. Making me stupid ramble on and on, so I can stupid entertain myself.

…

Are we there yet?

"Not yet Brooke, remember, patience is a virtue." Jean said to me from somewhere in the front of the plane.

I glared at the floor.

Stupid virtues. Stupid telepaths.

"Brooke." Jean said in a warning tone.

I looked down at the strap holding me down and attempted to free myself from its death grip.

"No luck there kid, it's childproof." An unfamiliar voice came from another unknown place in this aircraft.

Growl. So there was someone else involved in this… Why couldn't I see him? At least I hoped it was a guy, it sounded deep enough… Maybe it was a very masculine woman? Or my ears were just going funny from popping as we increased in altitude.

I looked at my surroundings and realized there wasn't anyone else in this part of the copter with me. It made me wonder… And THAT is a dangerous thing, let me tell you.

Why am I alone?

And who said that comment about the childproof buckle? I refuse to let that slide by without penalty. I started to fiddle with the buckle again and grumbled in irritation.

I want Mr. Bonkers…

Why did they put this caging device on me anyway? Am I that hard to trust?

"So far, yes Brooke." Jean answered. "You haven't given us much reassurance that you won't run away.

"And if I could escape this thing, where would I go exactly?"

She didn't reply.

"And that's going to stop you from trying?" she said, I could feel her grin from whatever part of the chopper she was in.

I glowered at the restraint and yanked at it again.

"Stupid, stupid child proof…buckles!"

Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delay… my beta had some other things to get though…

(Glares at Satori B.)

Satori B – Sorry everyone! (Bows repeatedly…)

Anyway… Please review! I had some fun writing this chapter, and the next will hopefully be out before I go away for camp. …Ciao!

Saor (The new pen name is a gaelic word, I'm pretty sure it either means free or spirit)