Zane twitched, jerkily rolling his shoulders in a vain attempt to stop shaking.

This little toad- If Magneto wants him, then I'll grab the coward. As if he won't run if the X-Men so much as glare at him…

Breathing out steadily, Zane stared blankly at the ceiling, reflections of a boy cowed before a monster playing in his blue eyes.

Avalanche, huh… This one could be useful. Now, if I could just get him loyal- or frightened. A punk like this would never admit he's been coerced into obedience. Xavier won't have a leg to stand on, and 'Lance' would never ask for help...

Sliding smoothly to his feet, the empath crossed his small apartment, kicking his refrigerator open in search of food. He scanned the scarce contents inside before choosing the last slice of a week-old pizza.

Laughing to himself, Zane murmured, "Like I'll get any more nightmares from this then from my 'powers'." He winced at another vision, one of a huge man throwing a car.

The Blob? Disgusting. But, cannon fodder has its uses.

Shaking the disturbing thoughts away, Zane glanced out the window, assuring himself once more of its current hunter-less state. No clawed men lurked outside his apartment anymore, not with the X-Men gone. Then, he fingered the card he'd tucked away in his pocket, out of sight, but not out of mind.

"To call or not to call…" Zane collapsed on his bed, searching blindly for the remote that should be somewhere on the floor. "X-Men or…" A new hand knocked against his door, "Go with Ms. Blue Killer. Probably best not to, but-" The knock sounded louder. "I don't think I'd like to tell her no. I probably should call Ms. Munroe…" His visitor gave one last knock in warning, before she kicked the cheap plywood down. Zane stopped looking for the remote.

"Hello, Miss." He spoke in monotone. "There a reason you killed my door?"

Mystique raised an eyebrow, the red raising against blue scales, "Yes, but I assume you can guess it, can't you, Zane?"

Smiling, eyes closed, the boy responded, "True. I've already had X-Men come knocking. Do you want me to come see your group, too?"

"Obviously. The Brotherhood." She moved closer to reach him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you'd be interested."

Opening his eyes, Zane met hers, "Like I have a choice." At that, he stood, externally serene beneath her gaze as he unearthed a worn bag from beneath his bed. "How long will this trip be?"

Mystique smirked, "You know so much already, little empath. Do you expect me to believe you don't know?"

"I can hope." With that, the youth hopped over the flimsy furniture, escaping the woman's grip to force a pile of clothes into his bag. Calm as ever, he lifted his gaze around the room, moving at what appeared random until he had gathered whatever he deemed important enough to take with him.

A moment passed. Zane cocked his head, shifting to face Mystique, "We going to eat anytime soon, or should I get something now?"

"We're going to Bayville." She dead toned. "In New York."

"Food now!" Unfazed, Zane kicked his refrigerator open once more, capturing a slightly fuzzy orange and a slice of cheese. "Do you want anything, or is the stomach of a teenage boy really made of steel?"

Mystique did not dignify him with an answer, instead stalking out the door, leaving him to follow. Quietly, he did, still forcing a smile against his lips. As he passed the door, he glanced back at the apartment he'd been squatting in for the past year, unnoticed by the management currently located somewhere in Florida or the neighbors who had yet to realize lost electricity from a clumsy hotwiring.

"Bye, home."

The door closed.

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Hours later, Zane sleepwalked off a plane, following a now-disguised Mystique through the airport. After they reached a taxi, he honestly lost a good hour before Mystique shook him awake.

For a second, he blinked at her. With a scoff, she turned, "We're here. Come on."

'Here' was an old-style house, a little battered, but standing strong. Through the open door, Zane could see the bottom of a staircase, an entryway, and about four guys, apparently arguing viciously over a toaster.

When Mystique's gaze fell upon that scene, she growled, "If you've broken another toaster-" Though her voice seemed to hit a higher octave on her last words, the nervous, vaguely toad-ish boy the others shoved forward surpassed her in a flurry of unintelligible excuses. Mystique cut him off, "Stop! Regardless of what damage you've done to my house, this time, you have a new housemate. This is Zane Darkwood, an empath. I expect to be able to return tomorrow and still have a house with five boys inside. Is that too difficult for you to understand?"

Heads shook 'no.'

At that, Mystique turned on her heal, re-entering the taxi and leaving. Zane just watched the others calmly, still silent. An awkward silence, at least for the original Brotherhood boys, stretched until Pietro snapped.

"You comin' in or what?"

"Sure. Where am I going? She never really said."

Pietro paused, "You followed Mystique without knowing where you're going?"

Unnoticed by the others, Todd snickered under his breath, "You're a poet, Pietro."

"Her name's Mystique? That's kind of weird." Zane shrugged carelessly, "Anyway, I'm not sure I had a choice, you know? Not every day a blue woman comes in with an aura like that-"

"Aura?" Lance looked at him strangely.

"Aura, yeh." A shrug. "Never really understood it 'til I found out I was a mutant. But, she just had an 'I dare you' kind of aura, and that's not a good thing. Anyway, this is bound to be interesting, at least. I've got nothing better to do."

Freddy stepped forward, "She mentioned that a room was clean enough for someone to clear out and live in. Come on."

Smiling cheerfully, Zane followed him inside, passing the other boys without a word.

Once the duo disappeared from sight, Pietro turned to Lance. "So, what now? Spy from Mystique? Enemy? Ally? What?"

Lance grunted. "No idea."