The girl stood over the motionless body, looking at the burns slowly spreading over it, and trying to keep calm. The she heard the shouts, and she ran, ran and ran, into a dark alley, a dark alley where she hoped no one would find her. Hiding her face in her hands, she crouched in a corner, crying her eyes out, tears falling through her hands onto the dirty floor around her, her dank and matted hair falling around her face as cuts and grazes appeared on her arms and legs, the tatty clothes she wore becoming covered in yet more blood.
After a while, waves of exhaustion washed over her, and as she slept the cuts gradually began to heal, until small scars were all that was left, her face was still hidden, and when she finally awoke, she still did not move, letting days and nights pass her by. She did not eat, she did not drink, she just sat. The world passed by on the street adjacent to the alley, but she heard nothing. New Jersey went about life and had nothing to do with her.
A voice finally broke through darkness, and fresh cuts and burns spread out over her body as she panicked once again, taking great gasping breaths that failed in filling her lungs. Someone crouched down beside her, but she didn't see them, or hear them. They spoke again, but she just stressed out further, blood once again pouring over her as her skin boiled and blistered. A hand turned her head to look into another pair of eyes, and the voice spoke again, calming and soothing her now.
"Calm down," it pacified, "You're going to be ok. We want to help you."
Tears filled her eyes as she saw the beautiful pair of eyes before her, and they fell down her face as her cuts became deeper and deeper. She lifted her head to look into these eyes once more. "Save me," she whispered.
"We will," the voice promised. "But first, you need to come with us, will you do that? Can you stand?"
She nodded, and was slowly helped up, standing on a pair of shaky legs. The voice smiled at her, "That's it. Slowly now. My name's Storm. What's yours?"
She thought for a while, placing this woman's name in her head, and then finding her own, "Maeveā¦I mean Quinn. My name is Quinn."
Storm smiled at her again. That smile made Quinn feel safe, as if nothing would hurt her, although she was still afraid, and upset, and still the blood poured out of her.
"This is Scott," Storm pointed to a man in shades, who was standing a little way off. "He's a friend, too, ok?" she added, as she saw Quinn's obvious fear.
Quinn nodded unsurely, and shook a little.
Storm nodded, as if now everything made more sense. "Now then, do you think you can walk a little way? We just need to get to Scott's car, and then everything will be alright, ok? We'll take you to a safe place. So, can you walk there?"
Quinn tentatively took a step, but collapsed at once, the cuts were too sore, and she became more distressed, and yet more blood began to flow. Scott strode over, and picked her up in his arms as she lost consciousness, her head lolling backwards. As the two adults walked out of the alley into the street, and trail of blood dripped behind them, dropping from the thin body of the girl.
Laying her in the back of the car, Storm and Scott climbed into the two front seats. Plugging themselves in with their seatbelts, they spoke quickly to the Professor whilst driving out New Jersey and back towards New York. After informing the Professor of their progress, and disconnecting from him, Scott turned to Storm, and joked, "I hope she doesn't get blood over the leather."
Storm ignored him, and as they raced faster along the roads, she relaxed a little, turning occasionally to check on the girl, still unconscious, lying across the back seats.
Eventually they pulled into a large wrought iron gateway, surrounded by a high wall. Driving through the grounds, laughing kids were visible everywhere, playing basketball, riding, or just running around and having fun. Scott steered the car along the drive, and pulled up outside of the front door, to get the girl in as quickly as possible. He and Storm both jumped out of the car, and as Storm hurried to open the door; he pulled the girl from the car, and ran up the stairs with her in his arms.
In the entrance hall, the Professor was waiting, sitting in his electronic wheel chair, with a woman standing behind him, her short red hair flicking out at the ends. She smiled at Scott as he entered, and he returned her smile quickly, before following her and the professor down a level into a long grey corridor, and then into another sanitation chamber, which was meant to be an examination room. Laying the girl down on a table, he hurried out of the room, leaving her with the Professor, Professor Xavier, and Jean, his Jean, Dr. Jean Grey.
Storm followed him, and together they returned to the entrance hall, about to go to their own separate rooms, when they saw a bunch of kids staring at them. One of them stepped forward, lighter in his hands, "What was that?" he asked, flicking the lighter on and off.
"That was a new girl, John," Storm said quietly, noticing the trail of blood left on the floor, that would need cleaning up.
"What's wrong with her? What can she do?" one of the girls asked, her blonde hair long and straight.
"We don't know. Dr. Grey is just sorting her out."
Some more kids walked into the house, "Woah! What's with the blood?"
The girl shuddered, and opened her eyes, finding herself lying in a light room, all by herself. The electric lights and cables scared her, and whimpering slightly, she ripped them off herself, and half-climbed, half-fell off the table, landing with a crash on the floor as her legs collapsed underneath her. She somehow managed to drag herself across the floor, and found the corner. Sitting here, she curled up in a small ball, her face buried in her knees, and her arms wrapped around her legs, protectively. Shaking, fear wracked her body, and once again small cuts began to appear.
She heard the door open, and began to rock herself back and forth. The footsteps approaching scared her, and she muttered to herself, the cuts becoming deeper. The female voice did nothing for her.
"Maeve? Maeve, can you hear me?"
The girl looked up, her eyes empty and listless, yet acknowledging the voice.
"Maeve, my name is Jean Grey. I'm a doctor, and I was helping you to get better. Do you feel better now, Maeve?"
The girl just rocked some more, and still said nothing.
"I'm a friend of Storm's."
Storm. Maeve remembered that name, and the recognition flickered in her eyes.
"If you come with me, I'll introduce you to the person in charge. You'll be safe and happy here. I promise." The older woman held out her hand for the girl to take, and she tentatively did, her cuts slowly disappearing.
Maeve let the woman lead her along corridors, and up a floor, into a panelled wooden office.
"Hello, Maeve." She heard a voice say, and she flipped out a little, before finally noticing the owner of the voice sitting in front of her, the other side of a large desk. "My name is Professor Xavier, and I run this school. You have already met some of its teachers, I understand, Storm, or Ororo and Scott brought you here, and Dr. Grey has been looking after you. You have been brought to this school because you are gifted, do you know what I mean?"
Maeve shook her head, her hands beginning to shake again.
"I think you do. You are here because you are one of us. A mutant." He paused, as if waiting for her reaction.
She just shook some more.
"Do you know you are a mutant, and what a mutant is?"
Maeve just nodded her head.
"Ah, well that's one thing sorted out. Now, do you know what your powers are?"
Maeve hesitated, and spoke slowly and quietly. "I kill people. And things. I kill them," her voice rose at the end as she began to panic, and cry.
"Yes, but that was an accident. I can't quite tell what you can do yet. You see, I am telepathic, but your mind is so muddled," he frowned, as if trying to concentrate. "But all will come out in time. For now, I want you to get cleaned up, and meet some other young people of your age. And just make sure you stay calm. We don't want you to hurt yourself anymore, do we?"
Maeve shook her head, and as she did so, a door opened, and Storm enetered. Hope came into Maeve's eyes. And Storm smiled at her, before turning to the Professor, "You wanted me, Professor?"
"Ah, Ororo, yes. Please can you take Maeve and help her get cleaned up, and find her some clothes that vaguely fit, before we can go out and buy her some."
"Yes, Professor," Storm smiled again, and turned to Maeve, "Are you coming then?"
Maeve slowly got up, looking unsurely around the room, at the kind smiles, and hurried towards Storm, who lead her through the school.
Every corridor was long and thin, with whispering voices that made Maeve duck her head, and want to curl up and hide.
She didn't hear Storm talking to her for a while, "So, do you prefer to be called Maeve or Quinn, or Mae, or what?"
"Quinn," was the quiet response.
"Ok then. Quinn, would you like a bath or a shower."
"I don't know."
"You don't know which you want?"
"I don't know how to."
Storm looked taken aback for a moment, and then smiled reassuringly. "You need me to help you then?"
Quinn nodded, and Storm led her into a large room, a bath on one side and a shower on the other. Turning on the taps, Storm turned to her, "Ok, if you take all your clothes off, I'm going to find you some clean clothes. They might not fit, because you're very tall, but I'll see what I can do."
Quinn nodded again, and Storm left her. She slowly began to pull off her filthy clothing, although it was cleaner than her skin. She's been living in the same clothes for over two years now, had only managed to get clean clothes once, because she had found some bills on the side of the street. She stood, in nothing, her arms wrapped around her; as water ran into the bath, steam enveloping her. She sighed as the warmth of the room made her feel safer and more comfortable than she could ever remember feeling in her life.
When Storm entered, she smiled, seeing the peaceful look on the girls face. Laying the clean clothes down on one side, she stopped the water from running, and checked the temperature of the bath. Seeing that it was fine, she ordered the girl into it.
"In the water?" Quinn asked.
"Yes, to get clean. Have you never had a bath?"
"I was 11."
Storm made sure she hurriedly got in the bath, and began to explain about soap, "It washes your skin. Wash every inch of skin on your body. But don't get it in your mouth. Or in you eyes. Got that?"
Quinn nodded.
"Now, this is shampoo," Storm held up a see-through bottle that had a purple liquid inside. "You use this to wash your hair. So you have to get your hair wet, and then put this on it, rub it in, and then wash it out with water again. Think you can do that?"
Quinn shook her head, and her eyes looked like they needed help.
"Ok, I'll help you do that. Looks like we might need to scrub as well."
Quinn just nodded, and allowed Storm to get a huge scrubbing brush, and begin to fiercely scrub at her skin.
An hour and a half later, Storm left the bathroom, after having to refill the tub four times, Quinn had been so dirty. She had left the girl to change, she was actually borrowing some of Storm's own clothes, but they would be way too short. She'd have to take her into the town to buy some. She was sure the school had some funds they could use.
She turned when Quinn came out of the bathroom, her hair drying from the vicious rubbing from a towel. Quinn had turned from a hunched over urchin, her skin dark and her hair to match, with mats and tangles galore, to a tall, although still a little stooped, due to her nervousness, young woman, dressed in what should be a knee length skirt, but was actually quite short on Quinn, and the black fabric emphasised the paleness of Quinn's skin, that had been hiding underneath all that dirt. The top she had found was figure hugging from the front, but flowing from the back, in a flowing material, and the colour of green that it was perfectly set off the green in Quinn's misty eyes. Long copper curls hung over her shoulders, and down her back, and thick, long eyelashes framed her eyes, and her cheeks shone with a healthy glow.
"You look fantastic," Storm enthused. "Now, lets go and meet some people, shall we."
Quinn nodded, wringing her hands nervously.
"So, did you get all that?" Storm asked.
Quinn nodded. She thought so.
"Alright then, I'll leave you guys to get to know each other."
She had just been introduced to the kids her own age, or some of them, and Storm had left her with them. She couldn't really remember any of their names, and was beginning to panic ever so slightly.
"So, what's your name again?" one of the boys asked, his hair slicked back and a lighter in his hand. She thought his name could be John, just wasn't sure.
"Quinn," she paused, "My name is Quinn."
"Is that your real name?" asked a girl, who could be either Reni or Kitty.
"No. But its what I am called."
"Then its not your real name." John pointed out.
"It is," Quinn began to upset.
"Well, what name were you given by your parents?" another boy asked, Bobby, she thought.
"My Parents?" Quinn shook violently, and small indentations appeared on her skin. "Maeve. I was called Maeve Hagen."
"Hagen?" a couple of them snorted, "as in Haagen-Daazs?"
Quinn looked confused, "What's that?"
"Ice cream. Don't you know anything?"
She began to cry, and her skin began to blister.
"Hey, are you ok?" another boy asked, there were too may of them to confuse her. This one had a foreign name. It sounded like Peter, she could remember that much. He laid his hand on her arm, and she flinched, but her left it there, calming her, and she began to relax slowly, the burns slowly fading.
All the others just glared at her.
"So why don't you tell us more about you?" Reni demanded.
"My name is Quinn."
"But why is it Quinn?"
"Because I was a quintuplet."
"You were? You mean you aren't anymore? Were your brothers and sisters mutants too?"
"I don't know."
"Hah, what, did they all leave you or something?" John asked sarcastically.
"I killed them," she whispered. "I killed my brothers and sisters, shortly after we were all born. My parents didn't want me. I was sent to live with my aunt. She didn't want me. I killed her eleven years later."
"Then where have you been living, because we're all 16?" asked Reni.
"On the streets. I have lived on the streets for five years, alone. I killed a cat, and the other day, I killed a man," she began to cry again.
"How did you kill them?" they all looked intrigued, and some slightly scared.
Quinn's eyes were open wide, and she looked the most scared if them all. "I don't know."
She collapsed to the floor, covering her face, and began to bleed once again.
"Aw, guys, look what you did. You were all way too pushy this time." John stated.
"US!" Reni slapped at him. "You started it, idiot."
"Um guys," another quiet voice spoke, and they all looked at Farasha, another girl, who was sitting in the chair, her eyes closed. "Aren't you gonna help her?"
