Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men. Man I wish I did. I'd be a lot happier then.
I do own Dimitria Brachares, Sean Black, Anya West and Liandra Smith, but so far, that's about it.

So, thanks to happy response, I've decided to continue. I think I was going to anyway, but at least now I know there's an interest )

Next chapter involves more OC's, and this chapter brings in a character whom I missed a lot throughout the movies. One of my favorites. Also, it brings back a character I sorely miss in the third.

Happy reading!
Dimitria was furious, to say the least. She paced, walking from one end of the room to the other, growling under her breath and clenching her fists. She stopped as the door opened, flipping her ebony braid over her shoulder.

"You!" She exclaimed, pointing at the young man who entered the door. Pyro looked up at her, surprised. "You, you!" she repeated, boiling with anger. Pyro smirked, but she knew he was nervous, she could see it in his eyes. "Hey, Electra, how's it-"

"Don't you give me that bullshit!" she yelled. "I gave you a simple task, a VERY simple task. Bring in the bloody telepath; just bring in the fucking girl. And what do you do? Not only do you stall the mission for days, but now you've practically HANDED her over to THEM!" She growled, clenching her fists harder.

"Hey, it's not like that, she was stronger than-"

Dimitria sighed in frustration, and threw her hands up in the air. "You're still stronger, and hell, she's still just a girl, weak. No, you don't get it Pyro. You're just a kid yourself. But who's going to get in trouble for this, huh? Red already knows, and who is getting the shit, you think?" Pyro stared at her, thinking to himself that this lady sure was scary. Sometimes, she was scarier than Red, or than Magneto even, but only when she was mad.

"Just… Just get out of my sight, Pyro. And don't think you're going to get any fun in the nearest, oh, like twenty years. You fucked up. And I don't like it when people fuck up."

Pyro nodded slowly, considered bowing to mock her but decided against it, and left through the other door in the room.

Once she was sure he had actually left, Dimitria sighed and sunk down to the floor. This was definitely not good, and Red was going to be very, very angry with her. No she wasn't, but she was going to have a lot of fun, that sadistic bitch. And Dimitria would take it because she just didn't have anything else to do.

Pulling up her knees toward her torso, the young woman let her head drop, leaning her forehead against her knees. Pyro was just a worthless lapdog, and still in Magneto's eyes he had more status than she did. She was stronger, older, and much more reliable. But none of that seemed to matter.

She felt a chill down her back and knew that she wasn't alone. The shadows in the room grew darker, and she sat up straight, rolling her eyes. "Come out of there, Shadow."

A contour grew in the corner, forming first a blob and then a more human-like shape, until a man formed and stood up, smiling gently. His dark hair was tousled, and the burning green eyes looked at her as though they knew all the secrets in the world. He was taller than she, and skinny. She barely ever saw him eat, and they had been living in this metal can for the past four months.

"Sorry, 'Mitri," he half-whispered, bending his head down so the cartoon-like shadows fell over his face. Part of his mutation, exaggerated shadows. "Just thought I would pass by without disturbing you. Seems I failed." He flashed a half-smile at her. "Shall I move on, or would you like company?"

Dimitria held back a sigh. "Keep on. I'm sure you have other things to do, Shadow." He nodded, and flashed her a smile again. "Don't worry so much, 'Mitri. Things will work out for the better, sooner or later. I'll see you around." He looked thoughtful for a moment, hesitated, then smiled and walked through the door.

Shaking her head, Dimitria couldn't help but smile. Shadow was incredibly sweet. His real name was Sean Black, and he had been here when Dimitria came to this metal can four months earlier. He was very shy and quiet and didn't want to take up any unnecessary space.

His face was thin and seemed slightly hollow, he had circles under his eyes and was very pale. His entire body was thin, and he always looked newly awoken though Dimitria knew he never slept. His hair was tousled and he was sometimes unshaven, but he didn't have a reflection because of his powers. He didn't have a shadow of his own, although when they were outside he often created one by borrowing a shadow from something else.

Dimitria stood up again and walked out in the corridor. She noticed Anya standing in a doorway. Anya was a sixteen year old telepath, and when she had come here her powers had been fairly weak, but her strength had grown considerably. Anya was mute from birth, but now she could communicate by using her mind, something she would never have learnt without the help of Magneto and Red.

Anya turned around and smiled at Dimitria, who rolled her eyes inwardly. "Talking to Gambit, Electra," Anya mouthed. To avoid confusion, the young girl actually mouthed whatever she told others, and it seemed as though she was actually talking, unless you were standing next to her when she was talking to someone else. Dimitria waved her hand at the young girl, and walked past her.

Arriving at the door she was heading for, she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. She was not looking forward to delivering the news.

Liandra awoke with a start. Her body jerked awake, her mind still in the last memory of Pyro being slammed into the wall and flames, flames everywhere. But there was nothing here, and after blinking a few times her mind cleared. No Pyro, no fire and no Bill; instead there was a cold, sterile room filled with laboratory equipment.

"So I've been taken in by the government for mutant experimentation," she thought, breathing heavily. She felt weak, but if she had to she could muster up some energy to defend herself. Pulling her feet over the edge, she noticed she wasn't wearing the same thing as she had been whenever she was awake last. She glanced around, and on a chair there was a zip-up hoodie that she grabbed and pulled over the tank top she was wearing.

Sneaking around a little, she saw a large, round opening marked with an 'X'. X marks the spot, she figured and walked toward the door. She paused and heard footsteps on the other side. No good, she thought and glanced around, took a metallic tray firmly in her hands and waited for the door to open.

When it did, she whacked the tray as hard as she could in the person's forehead. It was a short, broad man, who fell backwards because he was unprepared for the blow. Liandra didn't stop to look more at him, afraid she might not have been strong enough to get him out for very long. She jumped over the man, and ran through the corridor.

Everything looked the same, and she glanced behind her and saw the man still on the floor, so she decided to go against everything she believed in. But she needed to know what door led away from here, and that man would know.

She concentrated very, very hard on the man and on finding an exit. It worked. She ran up to the door that led in to an elevator. It was the longest elevator ride in her life. Since she wanted nothing but to get away, of course it would be, but now she had also opened up her mind, which meant that she heard things she didn't want to hear. "Block it off," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples.

The elevator stopped and the door opened. She glanced outside, an empty hallway. Perfect. Empty means easily avoiding people. Carefully, she walked out, and the elevator door closed behind her.

"Stay calm," Liandra thought, biting gently on her lower lip. "No one is here. Just find the nearest exit. This doesn't look like a government thing though." The large increase of movement in her mind told her there were people coming. The man from downstairs was in the elevator, "Shut it out!" and there was a stream of people coming down the stairs… what stairs? She noticed them and hid behind a pillar. No one took any notice of her.

Until the elevator door opened and the man entered the hallway. Liandra took another moment to study him, before she moved. He looked like he hadn't shaved for a couple of days, his eyes emitted anger and a sort of animal rage, and he had these enormous sideburns. His jaw was square; he had broad shoulders and a lot of muscle.

The people passed, but by then the man had already seen her. Logan, that was his name, damn this uncontrollable source of information that was her brain. There was no time to care about the other people around; Liandra sprinted off, evading the few others in there. They looked to be kids, this place was getting weirder by the second.

Glancing behind her, she saw the man trying to follow but he was slower than her. She ran a lot normally and barely ever took the subway or a cab, but usually walked to her destination.

With a thud, Liandra was stopped, lost balance and fell to the floor. She hadn't looked in front of her, and now she was staring up at a tall and very muscular young man. She took him in, knowing she had lost now. Black hair, dark eyes, Russian features, he was wearing a tight white tee and jeans. He seemed kind, but right now a bit confused and stern.

"Pete, great, you caught her," the man, 'Logan', grumbled, catching up. "She ran from downstairs, hit me 'cross the head with a tray!"

Pete, as 'Logan' had called the muscle man, laughed and offered his hand to Liandra, who felt for hissing and biting and kicking. "C'mon, getup!" Logan grunted, pulling her up. She wasn't sure what to do, she wasn't sure what she could do even. Against these two, she was no match at all. Brute power was more than she had.

She got up on her own, her eyes down on the floor, focusing on blocking everything out. One failure does not mean it's an impossibility to try again, she told herself, biting her lower lip.

"Come here, we ain't gonna hurt ya," 'Logan' grunted, and Pete nodded. "We are just taking you to see the prof, that's all," he said warmly, trying to cheer her up. Liandra kept her mouth shut; she wasn't going to cooperate with these people. Kidnapped, she had been kidnapped, by… "Oh god," she thought, her eyes widening. But 'Logan' and Pete didn't notice since her face was covered by hair. "They're mutant freaks. Easy, take it easy."

Liandra bit her lip hard as they led her toward another room, and she sensed someone on the other side. They waited for a moment, before Logan grunted and opened the door.

It wasn't exactly a vision of power that greeted Liandra's eyes. A bald man in a wheelchair, with kind but stern blue eyes and an expectant smile on his lips, looked at her. "Hello, I was expecting you. By the sounds of it, you put up a bit of a struggle down there."

"Sounds of it?" Liandra wanted to ask, but she stayed quiet. She wouldn't cooperate with freaks. The man in the wheelchair chuckled good-naturedly. "Peter, you can let go of her arm, it's quite all right. She isn't a prisoner."

"I'm not?" she let out, sounding acidic. "Sure fooled me."

She heard a low growl come from Logan, but both he and Pete had fallen back. Pete was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, studying this with interest. Logan was just being grouchy in general. The man in the wheel chair smiled patiently. "I am Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my school, the Xavier institute for Gifted Youngsters."

"Didn't ask, did I?" she muttered, standing straight and looking right at Xavier, meeting his gaze. He waited for her to continue. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked after a while, icily. "We happened to be in the neighborhood when Pyro attacked you. Your friend is fine, he has his memory altered a little but otherwise he is fine. We brought you here because you were unconscious, and because this is a place where you can be safe."

Liandra stared at Xavier, smiling coldly. "Thank you but I can handle myself." She made to turn around, but Logan glared at her, moving his arms slightly. "Kid, listen to him. This is serious."

"Why should I listen to a bunch of freaks?" Liandra hissed, glaring straight back. Pete moved slightly in the corner of her eye, and Logan growled, extending metal claws straight from his knuckles.

Her heartbeat quickened, but she stood firm. She would not let the freaks scare her. The tension grew between her and Logan, and things in the room began shaking. "Not again," she thought, trying to quench whatever power was moving within her.

"Logan!" Xavier cried out behind her. "Stop this instant! Put down your hands, now!"

Logan growled again, but did as Xavier said. Liandra narrowed her eyes, finally regaining control over her powers. Willing her heartbeat to calm, she turned around to Xavier again. "All right then. I'll listen."

Xavier motioned for her to sit down in the chair in front of the desk. She did, slumping down in it like the epitome of a grouchy teenager. "So, what's going on. What's the deal."

She could sense Logan's rage behind of her, and also Pete's quiet contemplation. It was becoming annoying and she was getting a head ache. Just because she was going to get to know what was going on didn't mean she was working with these people, did it?

Xavier looked very patient and calm. "What do you know about Pyro?"

"Not much. And if I do, you might as well repeat it for me so I know I'm right."

He nodded. "Well, Pyro is part of a group called the Brotherhood, led by a man known as Magneto. Because of the events yesterday, we have strong reasons to believe that they want you, presumably for your powers."

"Like I said, I can handle myself. I don't need to be protected or anything."

Xavier put his hands together and looked at Liandra over them. "You're saying you aren't the least bit curious as to what they want you for?"

He had hit a weak spot, and by the look in his eyes, he knew it. He was a telepath too. She liked knowing everything, or at least as much as she could. She bit her lip. "I would prefer if you refrained from entering my mind," she said in a low voice. Xavier looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. "I apologize. Sometimes, it's hard to control what you know and should not know, is it not?"

Liandra shifted slightly in the chair, and began chewing on her tongue. "It's one of the biggest problems with being a telepath," Xavier continued, "To keep your own curiosity under control, even more so if you don't have control of your own powers." He smiled, and Liandra looked down in the floor again. "We can teach you a little control, enough for you to keep on pretending that your powers don't exist, instead of them doing a little as they wish every now and then."

She didn't know what to say. The silence pressed through the room, and she heard Logan breathing. This was a very difficult decision.

The door opened, and in the doorway stood a crouched but tall man. His skin was pale and his body thin but athletic-looking. His face was thin and his chin was pointy, his nose thin and his eyes brown. His hair was black, and when he saw her looking at him, he instantly checked his watch. A bit strange, which was why she took notice of it.

"Sorry, I did not mean to disturb," his accent sounded European, and Liandra knew he was from Germany. "I vill be back later, Ja?" Xavier waved him in. "Come, come, introduce yourself."

He moved shyly in but left the door open behind him. "Guten tag," he smiled shyly, locks of hair falling in front of his eyes. "My name is Kurt Vagner, I am a teacher here."

Liandra felt her heartbeat quicken. His demeanor was incredibly cute, and he was terribly attractive over all. She sat straighter. "I'm Liandra Smith." She said, but didn't smile back. It made him visibly more nervous, and he nodded to Xavier. "I'll come back later. Bye," he backed out and walked away quickly.

She felt Xavier's eyes on her. Damn, he knew, that freak of a telepath knew what she had been thinking and- wait, if she trained up her powers, wouldn't she be able to block out things like that? Other telepaths trying to read her?

"All right. All right, fine. I'll stay in this freak show until you've figured out what that Magnet-person wants with me." Logan growled behind her when she said freak show but she didn't care.

Xavier nodded and smiled. "We'll set you up with a room."

Dimitria put up her elbows on the desk and leaned her head against her hands. She was bruised up a little, but mostly her mind was aching. She rubbed her eyes and sighed, pushed her hair over her shoulder and pulled out papers from the drawer.

The machine was incredibly interesting, but Red had said that it would work. Apparently there was alien technology involved.

"The telepaths," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "The telepaths are the important part." And that was exactly why they could not lose the telepaths.

They had three telepaths out of the five needed. And not just any telepaths either, they had to have the right potential. Enough potential so that together, they would be able to reach all over the world with their minds.

Of course, Red alone was strong enough for that, but that bitch didn't want to put her own life on the line in the same way as she was willing to put others lives on the line. They didn't even know what was really required of them, none of them knew the risks involved, except for Dimitria.

Dimitria was in this completely out of her own free will. She had nothing to live for, so where was the harm in dying for a cause instead of meaninglessly? Her powers were needed to control the electrical output to the machine, so there wouldn't be too much. They were training her to contain as much electricity as possible. By doing this, she would be able to suck all the power out of the surrounding area, and then control the bursts in which it needed to be fed to the machine.

She rubbed her temples as the door opened. Looking up, she smiled.

"Sittin' up here at dis hour, obsessin' ova' dose papers, cherie?" red eyes looked kindly at her, and Dimitria relaxed her tense body a little. "Gambit, shouldn't you be asleep?"

Gambit sat down on the edge of her desk, crossing his legs and smiling at her. "Ah, Mitri, Gambit be knowin' dat you would be awake, yeah? And well, ah jus' couldn't leave a pretty lady all alone, oui?"

She shook her head, but smiled. "Just looking things over, you know?"

Gambit put a hand over hers. "Obsessin', cherie. Not good for dat pretty head'a yours, Mitri. You be needin' rest. Why dun we lie down for a while, huh?" he stood up and took her hand in his, helping her up and over to the bed. She tried to protest, saying that she wasn't a child and could walk on her own, but he didn't listen.

"Mitri, none'a us think dis much 'bout dis thing. You, of all people, need'ta relax a little. Let us big people take care o'it all."

She glared at him. "Gambit, last I checked I was three years older than you."

He chuckled and patted her on her cheek. "Aight, den, let us young folks take care'a things. Old people should be restin'." He winked at her and stood up, turned off the lights and opened the door to leave. In the doorway he stopped, being silhouetted by the sharp light from the hallway outside. He seemed solemn.

"Mitri, seriously. You need ta' stop worryin' so much, things will be, well, it'll all turn out okay in de end." She closed her eyes, and she heard the door close. Gambit was sweet, but she didn't need to get attached. It had never turned out good in the past.

With those thoughts thought, Dimitria tried to ignore her aching body and her busy mind, and decided to try and get a few hours of sleep this night.