Author's Notes: I have come back, as it was said by far wiser (fictional) men, at the turn of the tide. After much debate and research I finally found what I was searching for in the massive struggle to be faced by our beloved students. Hopefully you'll all approve to some extent, and I'll do my best to do it justice. This chapter hasn't taken nearly as long as the last, thank god, so I hope it'll come as a good thing amidst the chaos of the new school year and the calm tranquility of the Labor Day Weekend (for any of you American readers). Thanks again to all the fantabulous reviewers for all of their collective support, as I'd be fuck-all without it, and I hope you enjoy this thirteenth chapter of 'Some Weird Sin'.

Disclaimer: I still own jack. Go team Marvel/FOX!

"Is there something you need from me?
Are you having your fun?
I never agreed to be
Your Holy One.

Whatever I've done
I've been staring down the barrel of a gun."
-Depeche Mode, 'Barrel of a Gun'

Chapter 13- "It Dawned On Me"

Saturday morning I awaken promptly at seven o'clock in the morning as something small, screaming and Asian leaps onto my bed. Less than a second later, the aforementioned jumping out of the way, I'm hit in the face with a pillow.

"Mother fucking- what in the seven hells is going on here!" I shriek, prying the down-filled sack off my face and throwing it back in the vague direction it assailed me from.

"Snooze you lose, sucker! It's cartoons time and if we don't claim the couch before John, Bobby and Piotr get it, we're stuck watching Power Rangers." Jubilee quipped, standing over me grinning in a pair of bright, yellow pajama shorts with a matching top.

"The fucking- Piotr actually watches that shit?" I rubbed at my eyes, trying to scrub the bleariness out of them so that I might see and comprehend the situation better. My god, was everyone around here mad?

"God no, but he humors the Dynamic Duo," Kitty rolls her eyes, putting her hair up into a ponytail.

I rub the bridge of my nose, wondering what the hell I'm doing listening to this when I could be attempting to get a few more precious hours of sleep. "And if we win?"

"Batman, the Animated Adventures," Rogue supplied, a smirk on her face. She'd found my trump card. It's a little known fact that I've wanted to marry Batman since I was six, becoming his love-slave/side-kick fantastic. How else could I be expected to respond?

"All right, all right, I'm up, let's go," I stood, shucking off my bed sheets and, noting what I was- or rather, wasn't- wearing, reconsidered.

"Oh, I'm sure they'd love to catch you in nothing but your panties, Adrian, but we don't want to kill them here, just race them to the couch," Jubilee cackled, sparks crackling at her fingertips.

I had the decency too look sheepish as I scrambled over to my dresser, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and practically jumping into them as a stray jolt was sent my way. "Hey, watch it, Sparky! I'm moving!"

Rogue laughed heartily, though still somewhat sleepy, as she opened the door, and I was under the impression that she had been overtaken in a similar manner just before they'd attended to me, the wily little minxes. Her gasp from the doorway, though, caught our collective attention as we spun about, looking scandalized to find Piotr, Bobby and an ornery yet confident John standing in the there.

"Ya filthy perverts! Just what in th' hell do y'all think yer doin' here at seven o'clock in the mornin'! We coulda been sleepin'! We could've been naked!" Covered nearly from head to toe, as her mutation was wont, Rogue put her hands on her hips indignantly.

"Christ, if only. It might've made this bullshit worthwhile," I heard John grumble. Piotr elbowed him gently in the side, almost toppling him in the process.

"We just stopped by to tell you that we hope you guys really enjoy the Green Ranger Saga," Bobby smirked. "Because that's what's going to be on downstairs by the time you losers get there."

"The hell it will!" Jubilee shrieked, a battle cry if ever there was one. "First one on the couch claims it for their team! Suck on that, bitches!"

And we were off.

I still had no idea what the fuck was going on, but everyone was running and when John gave me that cocky look of his, it was all I could do to keep myself from nearly tackling him to get there first, the bastard. Kitty phased through the others and raced ahead, though Bobby tripped her up pretty nicely freezing her feet to the floor. It took her a bit to get through it and by that time he'd raced on by, around the corner.

"Oh, two can so play that game!" Jubilee fumed, sending a few sparks this way. When we heard a yelp we sped up and passed him, Rogue and Kitty doing Logan's training well as they ran long and steady down the hallway. Until Piotr cut in front of them and used himself as a human wall, of course. Even without the organic steel to aid him, well over two hundred pounds of solid, well-muscled Russian are enough to slow anyone down. Especially with the view implied. Still though, the prospect of Mark Hamill's voice-over of the Joker was enough to speed me by along the wall and I was neck in neck with John as we raced down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time.

When we reached the bottom, landing and racing onwards, I spared a glance out of the corner of my eye at my opponent, who kept his eye determinedly ahead without much notice to me. Sleepy-eyed tool, he was in for it. Without warning a faucet from within a room we ran by spouted water out at him and he let out an ungainly yelp as it soaked through his tee-shirt and pants, chilling him. With a laugh I dashed onward, toward the open double-doors of the recreation room only to find-

"What in the sweet, suffering fuck is this shit!"

By the time I let the words fly out of my mouth the rest of them had gotten there and I was shoved into the room as they stood in the doorway aghast and open-mouthed, staring down at the group of younger students who had gotten there first. Yu-Gi-O blared forth from the television in all of its gargantuan lameness and we were stunned by it to the point of silence. That is, of course, until John, still sodden, grabbed our attention.

"Fuck this, I'm getting something to eat." Seeing nothing better to do, as none of us really had the right to tell the younger students off, we followed him into the dining hall and set about getting breakfast, sitting down at our usual tables.

"Getting whooped by the youngin's, man, that's just sad," Jubilee plopped her stuff down, shaking her head. Bobby nodded in agreement, rubbing at a hole on the leg of his flannel pants, proof of Jubilee's previous hit.

"Next time," Piotr told them sagely, digging into an omelet as Kitty sat beside him, shaking her head.

"Really, kids these days have no class when it comes to Saturday morning cartoons. Crap like that show wouldn't have gone anywhere when we were kids."

John let out a snort. "Are you kidding? You geeks would have been sitting there with your eyes glued to the tube watching it. Same shit, different era; we're just nostalgic."

As much as I was loathe to give him the credit, he was dead-on with his explanation, and I found myself nodding slightly in agreement. Kitty caught my eye, her brows raised in an unspoken level of astonishment and I found myself blushing down at my apple sauce, wondering just how silly I'd worked myself yesterday at my training session to be this out of it. Sure, refilling the pool again after my fantastic disappearing act had been a bit arduous, but once I had found a source it was beyond easy, and the lesson had gone on from there. To be publicly agreeing with St. John, though? That meant that I was either coming to learn a whole different level of exhaustion or that I had to find something else to explain my lapse of judgment when I got cornered later on during the day by the gossip hounds. I'll never get a break.

"Perhaps ya'll can spare us the rant 'bout how Nickelodeon was better when we were younger 'til whenever Ah'm gone, 'cause Lord knows if Ah have to hear it one more time Ah'll scream," Rogue muttered over her toast, as if trying to invoke whatever powers her grape jelly might have to stop it.

"But Rouge, everyone knows that shows like Clarissa Explains It All and Ren andStimpy were beyond awesome," Jubilee grinned. Piotr looked bored.

"This is another one of Pete's 'In Soviet Russia you do not drive car, car drives you' moments, it's sort of hard for him to relate," Bobby explained.

"Let's see you have a television broadcasting American stations all the way out in Siberia, dork," Kitty made a face at him, and Piotr nodded.

"My family didn't have a television set, but there was a cinema in one of the villages a few miles away. They showed old Rambo films."

"Talk about a buzz kill, the only people those movies usually appeal to are people like Professor Logan," Jubilee rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you have a wider variety to choose from now, Piotr. Seriously, if all I had to watch all day was Sylvester Stallone I think I'd barf."

"Thank you, Jubilee, for that truly stunning bit of introspection. But come on, how do you really feel?" John deadpanned, getting a piece of nectarine on his fork from his fruit salad and eating it.

"Whatever, John. I don't even know how you're functioning here. I mean, geez, even Adrian is stumbling about looking for her wit. Did you drink Gatorade when you woke up or something?"

"Gatorade can replenish ya' wit?" Rogue looked beyond confused. "Y'all 'r givin' me a headache. Chill out." Jubilee stuck her tongue out at John who, having no shame, mimicked her. Less than a minute later, and three different types of "see food", Kitty stood, slamming her palms down on the table. The effect it generated worked and most of us jumped, save Piotr, and turned to look at her.

"Oh my god, you two are seriously more retarded then the kids in there watching that stupid Japanese cartoon show. Stop-"

It was at this point that I actually fell asleep at the table. In all seriousness, I dozed off, my chin in my palm, elbow on the table as I pretended to listen with great interest to the chaos slowly beginning to erupt around me as more and more students came in. I liked Kitty quite a bit, and I loved seeing John get squawked at, but after my training session with Professor Munroe last night, and the inadequate amount of sleep I'd gotten, I was still beat. I guess they began to notice because someone shook me awake seconds before I would have slid face-first into my apple sauce and I sat up with a jolt.

"Oh mah gawd, Adrian, go back to sleep. Yer practically dyin' down here, I don't even know how ya made it down th' stairs. We'll come get ya later, all right?" Rogue smiled kindly at me and I nodded, trying my best not to yawn at the table as I stood, gathering my tray. I waved to everyone and turned to leave, hearing John's outraged protests coming out rapid-fire as I walked out of the room. It wasn't my fault that his roommate had dead-on aim with his ice-blasts at a quarter to seven in the morning. Making my way upstairs, I collapsed into bed for another blissful three hours before I awoke by my own will, only too look out side and find that there was a veritable monsoon happening outside. I was suddenly very thankful I'd had my lesson with Professor Munroe last night; if it hailed when she was pissed, I didn't even want to know what had infuriated her enough to create this.

After I'd showered and dressed, I walked warily downstairs, something nagging in the back of my mind. Letting my senses spread out, I felt a large mass of water stationed within the rec. room, more so than anywhere in the mansion, in fact, and I made my way forward to see what all the commotion was. Padding quietly down the hall, I stopped for a moment, the hair prickling on the back of my neck. Someone was following me. The corridor almost seemed to lengthen, the shadows drawing everything in long, dark and narrow and I had to suppress the shiver that ran up my spine as I tried to reassure myself. I was safe here, this was Charles Xavier's school, no great wrongs could be done to me within these walls.

Suddenly a hand clamped down upon my shoulder and I spun about, ready to knock whoever it was off balance and warn them against their actions for future reference, probably Piotr wanting to pass me his notes or Bobby asking me where to find his girlfriend. But my breath froze in my lungs and the words died, stillborn on my lips as I stared, horrified, into those crazed eyes, and I saw with my own that sickeningly familiar glint of steel.

"Hello Dollface."

I screamed.

I woke up for real this time, flailing out of my blankets, the terrors of the dream still clinging to my consciousness as I sought to free a leg from the confines of a sheet that had wrapped itself around it while I'd thrashed about. There was a knock at my door and, I swear to god, my heart almost leapt out of my chest. "H- hello?"

"Kid, are you all right?" Oh sweet mother of all things holy, it was Logan.

"Yeah, I just- you can come in if you want," I shook the blankets off and stood, still clad in the pajamas I'd worn down to breakfast earlier that morning. My hair was a right mess but honestly, this was Logan, it wasn't as though he hadn't seen me like this before.

The door opened and in stepped my Knight, complete with his usual assortment of shirts and a pair of blue jeans that clung like a second skin. My goodness, I'd missed him. I barely realized I had embraced him until suddenly I found myself halfway across the room with my arms wrapped around his midsection, clinging on for dear life. There was a surprised intake of breath for a moment before he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, the other going to rub the small of my back in small, soothing circles. He could probably smell the fear on me and part of me felt guilty, weak, pathetic for being seeming so dependent, but god help me, I needed this.

"It's okay, kid, yer fine. It was just a dream." I don't know how long he held me for, but it felt like ages until my heartbeat finally slowed down, my breathing becoming less rapid and labored. It hurt my head to imagine how I was going to explain this wonderful little scenario to my roommates, should any of them have chosen to walk in during that point in time. Thankfully, fate was kind and I was allowed my dignity while he repeated those calming words to me, their reiteration increasing my reassurance within the situation until finally, I sighed, coming back into myself.

"Thank you," I whispered, my head buried in his chest, the words muffling even as I spoke them. But he heard them and understood them for what they were. He always did.

"Yer welcome, kid. It's all right, I know how bad nightmares can get." I felt him tense slightly at his admission and I almost wanted to cry right then and there as it clicked in my head; the maniacs at Weapon X that had given him his adamantium claws, with what cruel barbarity had they treated him? Right now, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. For the most dangerous person I'd ever met to be afraid of anything was a completely horrifying concept, and I let off thinking about it as best as I could.

I pulled back a bit, looking up at him. "What did you stop by for?"

"To check up on you after the other day," he pulled back until I was at an arm's length and regarded me. "I wanted to be sure you were handling yourself all right."

I smiled up at him. "I'm not doing too badly, my friends here have been keeping me up to speed pretty decently. I-" I paused, noting the somewhat distant look in his eyes after my words. "I miss not being around you so much, Logan. I mean, shit, you were trapped in a truck with me for four days, so perhaps this is all right for you, but you really made an impression upon me. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here; none of the other Professors could have told me about this place and have gotten me to believe in it like you did." God I must sound like the most obnoxious, clingy, stupid child he's ever encountered. But there's a sudden warmth about him and I realize then that perhaps the feeling is mutual, that I might just have grown on him.

"You wanna make me a friendship bracelet, kid?"

I roll my eyes, playfully smacking him on the arm. "Damnit, Logan! You could at least offer a hike sometime, I'm not asking for a trip to the movies or a baseball game. I'm pretty cool when you're not babysitting me, you know; apparently I'm full of witty comebacks and snarky remarks. And a fantastic musical taste, I might add."

"You weren't bad when I was gettin' you over here either, kid." He smiles down at me fondly and I can't help but beam back up at him. My god, if he asked me to do cartwheels right now I'd be on it in a heartbeat, with back handsprings just to prove myself in his eyes. And I don't even know how to do any of that, I wasn't the most agile child in my gymnastics class, but for Logan, you can be damn sure I'd learn. Sweet Jesus, the way I'm carrying on here I sound like some dopey girl all hung up on a crush.

Right about here is where alarm bells start sounding off in my head, and I laugh up at him. "Bullshit, I was an obnoxious pain in the ass and you know it."

He puts a hand on my shoulder. "You're a piece of work kid. How're your ribs holding up? Red have a look at 'em?"

My god, I felt like I was talking to my Grandmother on a long distance call back to Ireland. "Yes, Logan. Dr. Grey said they were healing remarkably well and that given another month's time or so I should be ready to do some serious damage in your class. And by that, I mean learn how to actually throw a punch." Something caught in my mind and I gave him a suspicious look. "What's with all the questions, Chops?"

"Chuck's got a bit of an assignment for me, I'll be gone for a few days and I wanted to check up on ya' before I left." Straight and to the point, and I'll be fucked if it didn't kill some part of me. Assignments are missions and missions involve leather suits and codenames like "Wolverine" and the "X-Men". I frowned, growing somewhat anxious at the thought of it.

"I know this is probably the most retarded thing I can ask, considering that you have a healing factor that would make the entire sci-fi community jealous, but will you please try and be careful?"

A half grin, humoring me. "Yeah, kid. I'll do my best."

"Thank you. I know you probably have to get on your way now, and I don't want to keep you from doing whatever you have to, it's not my place. Take care, Logan. And safe travels." I would have attached some simple blessing to the end of that, but I am not my Granny and I would have looked completely stupid saying it. So instead I stood there, sending him from my room with a sad wave and by the look of him you wouldn't have guessed he was doing any more than going to "borrow" Professor Summer's Harley for a ride through the country. Worry gnawed at my gut, and I pushed my thoughts into the back of my mind, favoring instead a shower and a walk about the grounds for the time being.

Having cleaned myself up, I went downstairs, slipping outside and into the grey, overcast light that barely managed to shine down from above. I debated the act of handing Professor Munroe a bottle of Midol in hopes of there being some sunshine and lit a cigarette, deciding that I'd rather throw myself down a hillside of glass shards and used needles than face whatever came of such an encounter. It made me chuckle to think of it, though, and I laughed to myself as I strolled over by the gardens-

And quickly back, over to the side of the mansion when I realized I'd almost just walked in on Professor Summers and Doctor Grey kissing behind the rosebushes like a pair of teenagers. Oh sweet mother of Christ, I nearly choked. Trying desperately to stifle my laughter, I leaned up against the wall near the rear exit of the house and was moments later almost smacked in the face with the screen door, my hand stopping it barely two inches from my face.

"Fucking hell, do you think you could- Oh, hey Jubilee, what's that you've got there?"

The smaller girl, dressed in a pair of shorts and her trademarked yellow jacket grinned, throwing a bundle of something at me before speeding off. "Think fast!"

I caught it with one hand, narrowly missing the glowing embers at the end of my cigarette and I shouted after her. "Are you out of your mind? You almost lit the damned thing on fire!" When I looked down at what it was, though, I realized just how truly useless that would be in effect. I was holding John's leather jacket.

"Shit." Coming to understand the game quite quickly, which was, in short, "If John Catches You With His Shit, You'll Be Lucky If They Can Use Dental Records To Identify Your Charred Remains"; I dropped my cigarette to the ground, crushed it beneath a heel, and bolted. Hearing the door crash open a second time as I ran round a corner of the mansion, I knew I didn't have much time before I passed the jacket on to the next unsuspecting victim in the mansion's own, unique spin on "hot potato" or got my ass charbroiled. And fuck me gently with a chainsaw, there's not an unsuspecting victim in sight.

I risked a peek over my shoulder and redoubled my efforts heartily when I saw the look of concentrated anger on the pyromaniac's face, more so, when I noted the lighter he held in his hand. Abruptly, I stopped, turning to face him. My ribs and my brain, in a collective effort, hoped that he would too, and were beyond pleased when he skid to a halt nearly two feet in front of me, one arm extended. "Give it back, Mills."

I looked at his other hand, the top of the lighter hanging on its hinge threateningly, thumb at the ready. It was like a loaded gun with a finger pressed to the trigger. "Fuck you, Allerdyce, put the lighter away."

He glowered at me. "Give me my fucking jacket back, Mills, and I won't roast you. Got it?"

This wasn't my game, something I was well aware of, but the arrogant tone of his voice pissed me off something awful and I found myself chuckling as I realized my mood to have turned just as dark as my mentor's. "You can either ask me politely or your can bite me, Allerdyce. Pick one."

He bit.

Hard.

I had just enough sense to duck and roll when the flames shot out at me and in what I can only describe as instinct brought out by the realization of "Holy fuck, I am so dead", my mind latched onto the closest source of water nearby, namely the garden hose lying some fifteen feet to my left. In an instant the end of the hose exploded from the pressure, separating it from the side of the mansion as a jet of water shot toward my opponent, knocking him clean off his feet and sending him sprawling and when he scrambles back up a few seconds later, snarling, I'm not sure if we're playing anymore. The scary thing is that I'm no longer sure if we ever were. I drop the jacket to the ground beside me, using my will to bend the water to my needs when, an instant later, another blast of fire comes straight for me.

Yin and yang. Steam covers the entire area so fast that we're blinded in seconds, our makeshift fog so thick that I have to feel about in order to even find the jacket I put down beside me a moment ago. Lifting it into my arms I stop, listening for something, breathing, a sign of movement, anything. It's dead quiet and, nerves already tense from the fight and my nightmare earlier in the day, I try to push the giddy fear crawling up my throat back down into my stomach. A twig snaps to my right and I spin about, looking eyes searching the fog futilely. "…John? Are you there?" My nerves getting the best of me, I skirt off to the left, and run straight into the side of the mansion.

When I look up from where I'm lying on the ground, I'm surprised to see a pair of tennis shoes beside my head. The air around me is humid and dense, but I can feel the beginnings of cool raindrops falling gently down on me from above, and I'm thankful for them. Extending my arm upward, I hand John back his jacket and chuckle. "Good game."

"You're fucking retarded, Mills. I could have killed you, do you know that?" He's trying to sound intimidating, maybe even a little pissed off, but something's muddled it and mixed up the tonality of it. Now he just sounds petulant.

I wince, lifting myself off the ground. "Oh please, John. I'm not totally helpless. You have more to worry about with me, I'm the one with the kill switch, remember?"

He's standing close enough to me so that I can see him roll his eyes in the lightly falling rain. "Whatever, Mills. You're too chicken shit to pull a stunt like that anyway."

I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a look. "Or perhaps I'm just really not into killing my friends." For neither the first nor the last time, I have to stop myself from attaching the word "asshole" to the end of my sentence.

He regards me for a moment, the title I've just placed the two of us under, and then, slowly, he nods. He looks as though he's on the verge of speaking again, but he stills his tongue and, instead, takes me gently by the wrist, pulling me after him as we manage to navigate a way back into the mansion. And, coincidentally, right into Dr. Jean Grey.

I manage, for my part, to look at least a little guilty in front of my teacher, who looks expectantly from John to myself, awaiting an answer. John looks bored and I'm starting to panic, because even if she's not Professor Xavier, she's still a telepath and there's no way to lie around her and say that we were just testing our powers and not battling to the death over some stupid, beat-up leather jacket John skulks around in.

Obviously the woman is reading my mind right now, because I'll be damned if I didn't just see her smirk.

"I'm going to presume you two have an explanation for that?" she had her arms folded delicately and I fought hard not to chew nervously on my lip. Fucking telepaths.

"We're getting blamed because it's raining outside?" John quirked an eyebrow, I had to give him credit for trying.

"Not quite, St. John," she looks the both of us over and smiles. "Next time, ask for time in the Danger Room if you want to 'test your powers out'. Professor Munroe would have a fit if she found out you scorched her hedges."

I stand there, baffled, as I realize that we've just been let off the hook, by Professor Scott "I still have that giant poleax stuck up my rectum" Summers' make-out buddy no less. Goddamn, this place is just full of surprises.

"Of course, Dr. Grey. We'll be sure to do that next time, thank you," I supply dutifully, nodding like any good student ought to. Its right about then that I realize something has gone rather horribly awry. On my head. That smell, oh sweet Jesus no-

"And Adrian," Dr. Grey looks me over with a sympathetic eye. "You may want to consider booking an appointment with a hair stylist in town sometime today."

As the redheaded telepath walks back down the hall, after giving John another look, I stand there, rooted to the spot, gaping. Finally, I manage to talk. "You… you burnt off my hair?"

John sighs, probably wondering why I hadn't noticed earlier. "Fuck Mills, not all of it, just some of it in the front-"

"You burned off my hair?" I run over to a mirror hanging a few feet away and let out a small shriek. For the first time since I was eight years old, I have bangs. And they look absolutely ghastly. "Why didn't you fucking tell me you jackass! A little warning would have been nice! Maybe saying something like, 'Uh, sorry about that, Adrian, but you look like one of the Monkees' could have gotten the hint across!" I wanted to cry. And fuck, it's John, he'll never own up to it, never apologize.

"Christ, Mills, its hair! It'll grow back!" Some students are strolling about, giving us funny looks, but I'll be damned if I don't turn this into a full-on row in the next ten seconds.

"No shit, asshole! But until then, I'm the one who's going to be walking around looking like a fucking medieval minstrel!" I wheeled about, glaring at him. "I'm going to go and find my roommates and then you and I are going to have an absolutely fucking marvelous cat-fight, got it?"

John's eyes could have shot daggers at me. "Fucking get over it already, you're being completely over-dramatic; it was your fault anyway. And you know what? As fucking ridiculous as it looks now, it's better than it was before."

I leave before the urge to drown him in his own body fluids becomes too tempting. Taking the stairs two at a time I race back to my room and slam the door shut, fuming. Good god, if that reaction didn't just prove him right, I don't know what did. I want to throw a giant fit and just scream with the fury of it all. Before I can do anything though, a familiar head pokes through the door. Literally.

"Adrian, you there? …Oh my god." Kitty Pryde phases through the door and is at my side in an instant. "What happened?"

"I smell like someone barbequed an orphanage. Care to take a guess?" I'm scowling like a five year old, sitting on the edge of my bed and I don't care how infantile I may be acting. In two seconds flat Kitty comes back to my side with a pair of scissors.

"We're going to go into the bathroom and we're going to fix this," she smiles at me, taking my hand and helping me up. "And when I'm done with you, you're going to look totally cute."

"Fucking bastard burned off my hair," I muttered as she lead me into the lavatory. "I hope he goes bald at twenty." Kitty made a face at the mental image, as any sane person would have, and sat me down on the toilet seat. Grabbing a towel, she draped it over my shoulders, effectively covering me with it, and proceeded to brush my hair in firm, gentle strokes.

"Well, you can be glad that there aren't like, chunks of it missing. In fact, he had some pretty good aim with it, he literally only gave you bangs. They look like total crap now, but when I'm done fixing them up, you'll look fantastic," she beamed down at me. I gave her a half smile back, her cheerful nature rubbing off on me. God love the optimistic.

A few minutes later Kitty had me stand and look in the mirror. "Ta-da!" To be honest, I was completely surprised and rather delighted with her handiwork. Granted, it wasn't too hard to do, but I didn't look half bad. In fact, the bangs really looked fucking awesome.

"They actually help your facial features stand out," she pointed in the mirror. "See? Your cheekbones are really prominent with them like that." It was a polite way of saying that, while John was a total dick, his aesthetics weren't half bad. An underhanded compliment, but with tactics like that, was he expecting anything more?

I turned, hugging the other girl. "Thank you so much, Kitty. Honestly, you just made my day, I was so stupidly upset."

"Are you kidding? I'd have made sure he wouldn't be able to further his lineage." My roommate gives me a knowing look. "So, are you still going to find him and beat him into the ground?"

I gave her a predatory grin that would have made Logan jealous. "Oh, you fucking bet I am." And, a change of clothes later, I'm on the hunt, prowling about, putting my abilities to some good use as I try to discern whether or not John would be hiding out with a group of people to cover his ass or if he'd be off sulking alone. When I walk by the room he shares with Bobby, I get my answer.

My mind tells me that there are two people residing within the room currently, the water in their bodies giving them away to me sufficiently before I even lay my knuckles against the wood paneling to knock. A moment later Bobby opens the door, a boyish grin plastered across his face. "Oh, hey Adrian! Come on in, we were just talking about you, actually."

I raise an eyebrow and accept his invitation, walking into the room to find not John, but Rogue sitting easily along the top of Bobby's bed. "Hello Adri- oh mah gawd, what did ya' do t' yer hair? It's adorable!"

I rubbed the back of my neck, looking around the room. "I was actually hoping I could find John to, uh, thank him for it."

Bobby looked incredulous. "John cut your hair for you?"

"Actually we had a bit of a spat when Jubilee decided to chuck me his jacket and run. We fought and he singed half my hair off." My anger had lessened significantly since Kitty had worked her wonders, but I was still interested in having a little chat with John about etiquette or whatnot sometime this afternoon, before I lost my nerve. "Kitty's the one who fixed it up."

"So that's what all the fog was earlier, I knew it wasn't natural," Bobby laughed. "Wow, you guys are crazy. Did you get in trouble for it?"

As the human freezer took a seat next to his girlfriend I shook my head. "Dr. Grey caught us when we came back in, but I think she thought the damage my ego took was probably punishment enough. She just told us to ask to use the danger room next time things got too harried and we needed to 'test our powers' against one another."

Rogue let out a bark of laughter. "Nice cover up, not that Ah'm sure she di'nt grasp the actuality o' the situation." She looked up at me, an almost hesitant expression upon her face. "Have ya' talked to yer friend at home yet?"

Maggie. "I emailed her last night, but I haven't had the chance to check it yet. I'm sure she's probably emailed me back. When I talked to her the other day she seemed better." I kept my gaze fixed on Bobby, wondering how much he'd told her. It wasn't really that I'd minded, as I'd planned on letting my roommates in on the situation with my friend later on, after I'd gotten it sorted out a bit more. I looked back to Rogue and suddenly the notion that they might have taken this delay of information personally occurred to me. Shit.

"Well, we don't wanna keep ya' from yer little excursion," she smiled. "We'll see ya' at dinner, yeah?"

I nodded. "Thanks you guys, I'll catch you later." I left the room and shut the door quietly, going downstairs to the recreation room with little to no intent left in me for the time being. I found Jubilee on the floor near the television set and sat beside her, enjoying the feeling of anonymity for the present time as many of the other students paid attention to the channel surfing or the various games being played about the room.

"Oh, hey chica! I didn't see you there," Jubilee noticed me, grinning. "Nice hair, by the way, totally cute. You get it done after running from our patron saint of jackasses?"

I gave her a wry grin. "Something like that. I still owe him his tip for it."

"Would that include a sock in the jaw or a trip to the nearest walk-in closet?" The Asian girl waggled her eyebrows at me and I gaped back in return.

"What the hell was that supposed to mean, Jubilation Lee?"

"Exactly what it sounded like, Adrian Mills. If you think the rest of us can't feel the tension around you two you're insane; you two are worse than Piotr and Kitty." She laughed at me and, for once, I was actually somewhat dumbfounded.

"I don't get it. John and I maim one another, Kitty and Piotr don't play dirty like that-" I was cut off as the other girl began howling with laughter. "Goddamnit, Jubilee, what the hell is so funny?"

I wouldn't find out what was funny then, though, nor would I ever hear her exact words on the situation at hand. The channel surfing had ceased without warning and the remote's possessor had stopped on CNN, a quick, hushed silence falling over the room as we took in the headlines.

"…An group known as the Friends of Humanity, known for their role in what many have deemed 'the struggle against mutants', have grown more active in their public circuit. Based in Montana, the organization has a wide-spread following across the United States, ranging from the rural, sweeping fields of Kansas to even the streets Manhattan, where a protest was held today in opposition of what they regard to be 'The Mutant Agenda'. Kenneth Brown has more."

We all sat there, our jaws hanging open and our eyes like lanterns reflecting the light off the television screen. There were hundreds- no, thousands- of protestors gathered in Battery Park picketing and chanting, calling for the imprisonment of "Muties" and "Gene Freaks". Some signs carried by far less tolerant folk even appealed for our death as a collective whole, stating us to be a dangerous and villainous lot. We shrunk away from the T.V. as people were interviewed in turn, all shouting hellfire, damnation and brimstone as those from virtually ever color and creed balked us as an abomination among man.

Jubilee clutched my hand with a white-knuckled grip and, a second later, the television switched off. Professors Xavier and Munroe stood in the doorway, their expressions grim and I knew that, somehow, they'd been expecting something like this. Perhaps she'd felt it in the air or he'd had some sort of telepathic hint as to the media maelstrom that had flourished into being over the last five minutes, but regardless of who had learnt it first or what had happened in spite of it, they looked over us all with those calming, steady gazes we all knew and loved so well. I took a quick peek about the room and saw that nearly everyone was huddled against someone, whispering or taking comfort in their physical presence. I finally noticed John in a chair off by the corner, his expression blank. I wouldn't have even noticed him if it weren't for the uneasy clicking of his Zippo ringing out in the silence. Whatever tension Jubilee had been talking about pre-CNN broadcast, it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that it didn't have shit on this. Finally, a beam of light seemed to shine on through the gloom, and we were drawn to it, unabashed in our anxiety, like moths.

"We cannot expect humanity to be fully accepting so early on, nor can we be so foolish as to think that every person, mutant or otherwise, will always coexist in peace and dignity. Humanity at large currently fears us, the hate mongers in the Friends of Humanity are seeing to that well enough, but that does not mean that there isn't still hope."

Professor Xavier looked about, his gaze sweeping the room with such steadfast confidence that we all listened, waiting on bated breath for him to continue. "My dear students, we cannot allow this hatred and this terror to consume our lives for to do so is to admit that we are a lesser folk. You have all been taught and are being taught to understand humanity, as they in time shall come to understand us. For even the greatest of minds during the most supreme of ages understanding was truly their greatest advantage. The tides of public opinion may be swept up in this dazzling media frenzy for the time being, but that does not mean that we are all so doomed as they might have us think."

Xavier and Munroe were two prime examples of mutants who had lived among humanity and survived it for what they were, "muties" and "gene freaks". And yet there they stood, all clad in iron back bones and adamantium composure. It brought a tranquility to the room that it had lacked previously and, slowly, the students began to chatter amongst one another, forming discussion groups about the news segment and comforting one another. John and I locked eyes over the crowd and nodded in understanding. Helping Jubilee stand beside me the three of us left the room and made our way outside.

I was almost surprised when I saw Bobby, Rogue, Piotr and Kitty by the side of the mansion, waiting for us. John and I lit up our cigarettes immediately while I kept an arm around Jubilee, who seemed fit to break. Had it been anything else I'd have cracked some smart aleck comment, asked who'd died or what had everyone's panties in a twist, but we all knew what was going on and no one found it funny. If anything, it was the closest thing to a wake-up call any of us had had in days, months, years. We had a new name and a new face to place with this hatred that had amassed against us after the Senator Kelly had switched his colors two years ago and despite how ridiculously stupid their name sounded there was little comfort to be held. Kitty stood closer to Piotr than normal and Bobby was holding Rogue, who looked almost haunted in the gloom. The rain had stopped sometime during the news and a damp, humid quality remained, making the entire situation all the more tangible despite our collective and unspoken wants for it to be otherwise. Now, more than ever, I wished Logan were here.

John stood alone within the lot of us, close to Bobby where I'm sure he thought he belonged. On that dreary afternoon, I felt something break within me, watching him stand so pale against the backdrop of the rose garden. I wished that he'd stood near me, perhaps I might have comforted him, or at least found a way to cease the constant clicking of his lighter as he fought to control the thoughts racing through his mind. Jubilee hugged tighter and I winced at the pressure on my ribs.

"What will we do?" She whispered, sounding very much like the sixteen year old girl she so rarely pretended to be.

It was Piotr who picked up the slack, his solemn face frank in the failing light, braving it all like another winter out in the steppes of Siberia. "We will continue to exist as we always have, just as the Professor said we would. The only thing that changes now is that the views of some extremists have been brought to the forefront of public knowledge. We will have to be careful, as we always have, but this is not our doom."

"They sound like a buncha lunatics," Rogue said, her voice apparent in it the surreal quiet that had taken over outside. "Ah hope the X-Men stop 'em soon."

The X-Men, every mutant kid's great hope, a role model to all during such dark times. At this I began to wonder just where it was Logan had gone off to, and to what end.

"I don't doubt that they will," Bobby smiled encouragingly. "I mean, come on, they're kicked Magneto's ass how many times? These are just a bunch of stupid, angry people, they can't control metal or shape shift or anything like that. The most that they can probably do is what we saw on the television; rant and parade about with lame signs chanting."

The threat was slowly being soothed from our minds. I took a long drag from my cigarette. "They're the adult world's idea of a really cool pep rally, and seriously, we all remember how lame those were," I paused. "Well, aside from you, Piotr, no offense."

"I have in my memory my own fair share of protests to recall," the Russian smiled grimly. "But yes, I know what you mean."

"Then what the fuck are we all worried about? This is like when Ice-T did 'Fuck the Police' and people gathered en masse to bulldoze his album. The guy plays a detective on fucking Law & Order now, if he can get away with that, we'll be fine." It's a stretch insofar as analogies go, but it makes Kitty smile, entices a bit of a giggle from Jubilee and I know the situation is salvaged. The only one silent now is John, and I study him from where I stand, wondering at his beliefs surrounding it all. "Penny for your thoughts, Prometheus."

And St. John does the only thing he does better than throwing fire balls at me on a Saturday morning. He shrugs and says "Whatever." We all cling to our makeshift security, but John, he's a realist, he bears the full burnt of it without a word in his defense. It's right about then that I recall my conversation at the mall with Piotr a few days back, my own claims to realism and my supposedly steadfast nature. We mold and change to fit the situation; one look at the fragility of Jubilee and Kitty is enough to tell me that the others probably understand the real weight of this all, but that our composure is necessary for the group as a whole. Because if this tells us anything, if this gives us any clue to the future, things have changed past the point of familiarity.

"It was crime at the time but the laws, we changed 'em."

I crush the butt of my cigarette under my heel and put my arm a little tighter about Jubilee, because suddenly, I don't feel as sure about all of this as I used to. We're a strange lot, an amalgamation of oddities in our own right, and this will be our first real step into the harsh nature that our forebears have fought so ardently against. I chew at my lip and I wonder, against my own supposedly hopeful nature, if we'll be enough to see it through. Abruptly whatever security I have left fades down to almost nothing and I'm surprised to find myself blinking to hold back the tears. I never signed up for this. The wind blows, now harsh and unrelenting in the dawning twilight of the early evening and we brave it, though not without the tremors that shiver and shake out of our flesh.
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Lyrics from The New Pornographers' 'The Laws Have Changed'.

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