Next chapter! Thanks to all the readers who've put up with this so far!
There is some Russian in this chapter. I am an English speaking person who is in the process of learning Russian. My skills are not great, and I did use some Google translate for some words. If anything is incorrect, please let me know so that I can fix it!
Enjoy!
Ya know, looking back on that day now, I realize how stupid my parents and I were. I mean, seriously, my parents were stupid for sending their blind (blind!) daughter off with three total strangers, and I was stupid for letting them. Forget the fact that I took those self defense classes and take a refresher course every couple of months, I could tell that one of my companions was huge, and I new that he or she could easily squash me in a second. My karate and I wouldn't have stood a chance even if they weren't mutants.
But, naturally, like the idiot I am, I attacked them anyway. Not right away, however. I let one of them take my arm and we got halfway down the street before I tripped her-I think it was a her-with my cane. I thanked whatever god that was listening at the time that I had done gymnastics before I started dancing as I dove into a round-off and flew over someones head. He-I knew it was a he-yelped in surprise as my foot clipped his head. I landed neatly on my feet, silently grateful the saying applied to humans with the name as well. Slipping the strap from my wrist, I positioned my cane like a sword, ready to hit any of them who dared approach me.
"We are not going to harm you, child. I swear it." an accented female voice reached my ears. "Now, perhaps we can introduce ourselves, as we have not yet done so. My name is Ororo Munroe, but you may call me Storm."
There were small shuffling noises, before someone else spoke up. "Wolverine. And look, while I love a good fight, I don't feel like hittin' a kid. Why don't you just come along, and like Ro said..." the gruff male seemed to be steeling himself for something. "We'll...talk." It clearly pained him to say it.
"I hardly feel inclined to lower my defenses when there is still clearly one of you I do not know. Furthermore, Mr. Wolverine, while you may not feel like, "hittin' a kid" I assure you I have no such qualms against a man who is clearly only a few inches taller then me." I smirked slightly. "I'm not even pushing five feet."
Someone, a very tall someone, next to me let out a boisterous laugh. "I like you, little one. I am Piotr Rasputin. Because you Americans find Russian hard to pronounce, you may call me Peter."
I smirked. "Глупый козел. Моя бабушка является русский язык. Я знаю, как говорить на нем."
Silence. Temporary silence, but silence nonetheless.
"Я сожалею, малышка. Я понятия не имел."
"Hey!" Wolverine called out. "You mind telling us what this babble is all about."
"The child has informed me that she will have no trouble pronouncing my name as she knows the language. She also called me a stupid goat, and a farm boy. I believe that both were meant as insults even though the latter is quite true. I apologized to her."
"Excuse me!" I shrieked, lowering my cane. My arms were wearing out. "Look, I get why you call me 'little one'. It's a way to tease me about the fact that I'm quite clearly vertically challenged. But stop calling me 'kid' and 'child'. Both names are demeaning to a person of my intellect."
"Very well Katherine." Storm spoke softly, "Perhaps we should continue this talk in the malt shop your father mentioned? I promise you, once again, that we will not hurt you."
I lowered my arms slightly, more from tiredness than from defeat. "That's what Xavier said too." I paused. "At least I think it was Xavier...Look, I have no idea who you are or what you want from me. But can you please tell me what the hell is going on before I snap and go all ninja on you?" I could tell that my poor attempt at humor had fallen flat.
Can't blame a girl for trying.
"Look kid," Wolverine said. Really?! I heard a striking sound, and soon realized he had lit a cigar. I choked on the smell, confused as to how I couldn't sense it before. "the way I see it, you got no options. We outnumber you, and truth is you wouldn't even be able to make a move before we caught you."
"So says the chain smoker who probably needs a new lung." I snapped, annoyed yet again. "Here's how I see it, kid. I grew up here. I know these roads like the back of my hand, and I've never even seen it. You don't know a thing about this neighborhood or the people in it. But they know me. All I have to do is scream, and I'm sure the lovely widow Jenkins who lives in the house across from us will call the police." My voice grew colder as I went on, "I don't need to make a move. I've already got you in checkmate." I couldn't help but smirk at his lack of response.
"You play the game of chess, little one?" The Russian asked. I really need to learn his name... If he was anything like the athletes I've heard about, I'm sunk. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound.
"I don't just play. I win."
"Look, my child," Storm spoke again, "I swear that we will not harm you."
"And what good is that to me? That is all you have said since you brought me out here. I don't know you, and I'm sorry, but your word is nothing to me."
"We're makin' a scene, Ro. Petey, grab the kid and let's get out of here."
"Logan! He will do no such thing. Do you want to frighten the child more?"
"No, but I do want to get off the street and away from the eyes of the peeping toms."
"Logan, surely there is a better way."
"Hey!" I finally yelled, tired of their debate. "I'm right here. How's about talking to me instead of around me? I can't focus with all of you yapping like that!" surprisingly, they all shut up. Well, not that surprisingly. I do have a voice after all. To be honest, I was sick of this, and the more we dallied here the more it became likely that the Professor guy was hurting Carmen and Teresa. New plan. Not that I had a plan before. Go with it until you have a chance to escape, then run like hell to get home.
"I'll go with you." I said finally.
"You will?" Surprise coated Piotr's tone.
"No, I just said that to make you think I was going with you." I spit out sarcastically. "I said I would, didn't I? A Pryde never goes back on her word. And I may be an adopted Pryde, but I am a Pryde nonetheless. Now come on, before all the idiots currently spying on us get the notion that you have less than honorable intentions and decide to call the cops just because they can."
Personally, I didn't care if they followed me or not. I had cash in my hand and the malt shop in my mind. I have a very short attention span most of the time, and it decided to kick in just now. Turning my back on them and walking away was pretty stupid, but I needed some serious chocolate and sugar to deal with the mess I was currently in.
"Before we go, may I ask a question?" Storm said suddenly.
"Sure." I replied.
"Xavier told me that you call your parents by their first names. Why?"
I stopped in my tracks. Taking a deep breath in, I sighed as I released it. "They love me. And I love them. Always will. They raised me, taught me right from wrong. But they're not my mother and father. I don't have a connection with them like other kids do with their folks. Maybe it's confusing, maybe it's wrong. But that's just the way it is." I continued on, not stopping to see if they were following me. But I knew that they were.
It really wasn't that far, and we arrived there in no time. One of the men (it had to be Piotr due to the lack of smoke smell) darted in front of me to open the door, and nearly knocked me over. He began to apologize profusely, and continued to do so even after we entered the small building.
Mike's Malts had been in this neighborhood for as long as I could remember. Mike had long since become too old to run the place, and left the management to his two children. James and Jan had watched me grow up, and by now knew all of my moods and preferences. I listened to the bell jingle as we opened and closed the door, and knew it wouldn't be long before one of them greeted me. I was right.
"Kitty! It's so good to see you." James reached down to give me a small hug. "Let me guess," he said, pulling back and studying my face. "From the looks of it you'll be wanting the chocolate deluxe." I smirked wryly.
"It's just been one of those days. But yeah, a CD sounds amazing...And, uh, whatever they want." I added, gesturing over my shoulder to my companions.
"Oh?" he asked. "And who are these fine young people?"
Young. Ha. I bet Logan is nearly twice your age, buddy.
"Some teachers and a student from a school that's interested in my body. The Headmaster is currently with my parents, signing papers and deciding which of the science departments get my brain." I said with a laugh.
"Excuse me," the Russian cut in sharply. "He is doing nothing of the short, and it is an insult-"
"Can it!" I exclaim. "I was being sarcastic. Seriously, you speak English so well but you can't get a joke? What's wrong with you?"
Shaking my head, I turn back to James. Can you believe these people? My face reads. "Look." I add softly. "Get what you want. I'm going to go sit down." James gently touches my arm, and I allow him to lead me to a nearby table.
"So," he asks, "What's going on?"
"Nothing." I am quick to reassure him. "Just Carmen and Teresa trying to get me to go to another private school. I should be annoyed at them, it's not their fault. They probably don't want to be here as much as I do."
"Well, if you need anything, a quick getaway or a shotgun, let me know. I'll be behind the counter."
I opened my mouth to ask him a question but he stopped me before I even drew breath. "Jan is taking their orders right now. They'll find you when they're done."
"It's not going to be that hard. I'm only three tables away, they can probably hear everything we're saying."
"Why are you wearing the glasses again? I thought you said you were done with them."
His quiet question startles me. I hadn't even realized that I was still wearing them. I thought I had taken them off after Ms. Frost had left. I guess I didn't. My blood red irises tend to freak people out, so most of the time I wear glasses over contacts, just in case. The vacant stare I give people is freaky enough without the added features.
But I had said I was done with them. I hated wearing them, while feeling like I had to hide myself to make other people comfortable. But I guess old habits are hard to break. I waved at James as he walked back to the front counter, then jumped slightly when someone touched my arm.
"I did not meant to startle you, little one." Piotr.
"It's alright. Just, next time, warn me that you're here first." I said wryly.
"Da. I am also sorry, for not understanding your joke."
"It's okay, I guess. Where are the others?"
"Storm is explaining to Logan that he is not supposed to scare you or endanger this mission in any way."
I could hear them in the background arguing, but my focus was more on what Piotr had just said. "Mission? What mission?"
"Черт." he whispered in panic.
"Oh yeah. You are in so much trouble. What mission?"
"...To recruit you."
"Look, I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm happy here. I don't want to move."
"For sure. Your parents treat you like a baby and nobody really likes you. No friends, why, you do nothing but school and dance. Wanna try another lie, kid?"
Logan and Storm slid into the booth in front of me, and I felt it when Piotr sat next to me. I moved all the way to the left and still felt squished next to his frame. Dang, he's huge. I bet he could pick me up with one hand.
Scowling at the man who had just spoken to me,I asked the question again. "What mission?" My voice was hard, and I could tell from their silence that they knew I wanted the truth, the whole truth, and I wanted it now.
"Katherine, we know what happened today." Storm said gently.
Crap. I decided to play dumb. "Oh, you mean Ms. Frost visiting? I think it's crazy that two schools come to visit me on the same day that..."
"That you fall through the floor." Logan really is blunt.
Continue to play dumb, and maybe this will all go away. Yes, I'm that desperate. Got to get home ASAP.
"What on earth are you talking about? People can't fall through floors." I paused. "Well, they can, but it would be very painful and no doubt involve a trip to the hospital and a morphine drip. As you can see, I'm fit as fiddle. Right as rain. There are so many analogies that I could use here, it's insane. But, the bottom line is that I couldn't have fallen through the floor and survived unless-"
"You are a mutant."
I sighed. So much for playing dumb. "I know, Piotr."
"Then why do you not admit it?"
"I'm fourteen. I'm a genius, and definitely more mature then the majority of people my age, but I'm still fourteen. I'm terrified. And, if I'm correct, I just admitted it."
"When did you first know?" Storm asked, reaching across the table to lay a hand on my shoulder. Despite her intentions, it wasn't comforting.
"I've suspected for a while." With my eyes it's impossible for me not to be a mutant. "But when I fell through the floor, or ceiling, I knew for sure. My brain is not normal. I would have finished highschool by age seven if my parents hadn't held me back. I have a degree, and I'm working on getting another in computer science and engineering. Seriously, I go to school with people twice my age. Everything about that practically screams mutant."
I wish a hole would just open beneath me and swallow me whole. This is so embarrassing.
"Katherine." I returned my attention to Storm. "Have you ever heard of," her voice grew quiet. "The X-Men?"
I laugh slightly. What an absurd question. "Of course." A better question would be, "Who hasn't heard of the X-Men?" Seriously, they're on the news almost as much as the Avengers. And with Tony Stark, as a member, they're on the news a lot.
"We...They operate outside of New York city, as a school for, well, gifted individuals."
I have no idea where she is going with this, but before I can interrupt she continues on.
"Within this school there is a device that was designed to locate mutants. It's still being built, so it doesn't work as well as it should. It can only cover one area at a time, and it is only able to detect a mutant when they use their powers."
Yeah, still don't get it. Although I am wondering how the heck she knows this.
"I know for a fact that this machine was set off twice today when it was set to scan all of the northern states, from coast to coast."
Okay, and this concerns me how? Oh, wait...
"Once when it located a mutant in New York City, and the second time was set off is when it found you."
Woah. Major blonde moment here.
"You're the..." Someone's hand slaps over my mouth and I can't continue my sentence. I resist the urge to bite it. From the cigar smell, I know it's Logan.
"Yes, but keep it down will ya! Don't need the whole world knowing."
I nod, smile, blink, anything to get this suffocating fixture off of my face. Noticing my distress, Piotr pushes me back slightly, and suddenly I can breathe again. "Logan," I heard him say, "We are not here to kill the girl."
"Oh please," I gasp, "If anybody is dying here, it's going to be him. Jeez man, don't you know that smoking can kill you? You've lit up at least three cigars since you woke up this morning."
Silence. Thank you, whatever deity that may or may not exist.
"...yes. How did you know?"
"The pack that I heard you pull out is a standard size, ten pack. You clearly keep them in your back pocket, because you have a key chain on your belt that rattles when you walk, and again when you pulled out your pack. You may have only pulled it out once, but once was enough to hear that it rattled so much that there were only a few left in it. I know you've smoked at least once today since there was ash on your hand that wasn't even slightly warm. There were other patches that were warmer, left behind by the one that you smoked not even fifteen minutes ago. That, and there was a stale undertone to the scent, which is rather overpowering. I have to admit that the number three was just pulled out of the air, but the facts are all there."
I wasn't the least bit snarky. Well, maybe a little.
"How did you get all that in the hour that you have known us?" Storm asked.
"I pay attention. I listen, I smell, I feel. And then, once I posses the facts, I deduce. It's all elementary really."
"I like this one! She is good!" Piotr exclaimed with a laugh.
"Well kid," Wolverine huffs, "You're right on one count and wrong on the other. I have smoked exactly three cigars since getting up this morning, but I will not die because of them. I've been smoking for over a hundred years kid, and I haven't died yet. The healing factor I have stops that from happening. Bit handy, actually."
A healing factor? I think back to the days I used to run around the yard whenever Teresa's back was turned. The time that I fell out of the tree when I was nine. I had felt my arm snap, I screamed in pain, but by the time Teresa and Carmen arrived, nothing was wrong. Or when I slipped in the kitchen and stabbed myself with a butcher knife. Carmen found me covered in blood with no cut anywhere on me. The car crash I was in that killed my friend and her cousin. I escaped without a scratch. Every time I got hurt, the wound would be gone within seconds. I chalked it up to bad memory and dumb luck, but now I'm not so sure.
"Are you alright, Katherine?"
I smile slightly at hi concern. "I'm fine Piotr." The truth is, I am far from fine. When I woke up this morning, it was just like any other day in my life. Going throughout the day listening to the whispered insults and slights that no one thinks I hear, but I do. Pretending to get a ride home with my 'friend', just so I can have a few moments without someone trying to take care of me when I clearly don't need it. Wishing my parents were different and didn't hover as much as they did, while being grateful for everything that they have given me.
But when I got up this morning and went to school, I didn't expect any of this. I didn't know I had a mutation, nor did I know that there was a way for people to track me when I used my powers. I wonder if such a device can be used for more...evil purposes. The thought sickens me.
The conversation continues, with Storm asking if I have any questions. Any? How bout a million woman, do you think you can handle that? But all I can manage is, "What happens to me now?" I can tell by their pause that they are all glancing at each other. "I can't see you, you'll have to use words." I say, chastising them gently.
"You will of course come to our school. You have to learn to control your powers." Storm says.
"And I couldn't learn to control them on my own? I have to attend your school, with no say in the matter?"
"Professor Xavier..."
"Is a telepath. He can't walk through walls. And even if he could, from my understanding of mutations, while some are similar, none are the same. There is absolutely nothing that any of you could possibly teach me."
"Look kid," Logan cut in, "While it's true that none of us can walk through walls, we are the closest thing you are going to get to decent instructors. We don't know anything about your mutation, but we are willing to learn, because we want you to be able to use it without hurting yourself or someone else."
"Yes," Storm added, "We have a special room that we train in, and our entire school is equipped to handle anything that you can throw at it. There, you don't have to worry about losing control."
"Why are you so sure that I can't control it?"
"You fell through the floor an hour before we came, due to a very bad headache. What happens when you get one while holding onto someone? How will it affect them? Do you honestly want to have someone's blood on your hands?"
"Look mister, I..." I stopped suddenly, hands shaking and heart beating so loudly I'm sure that people in the next town could hear it. I was...tingling. I could feel my skin prickling all over my body, and I'm not sure exactly how I knew it, but something was terribly wrong.
The bell above the door jingled, and I jerked my head in the direction of the sound. Heavy footfalls, combined with a wide stride. Male? Hands slam on the counter, and James greets the newest customer. They respond, and my guess about his gender is confirmed. Judging from the sound of his footsteps, I can estimate the length of his stride. Using this, I quickly calculate his average height and weight. His footfalls are to heavy for a 6'2, 175 pound male. He's carrying something very heavy. Something the approximate weight of a... "He's got a gun!" I scream, and all hell breaks loose.
Глупый козел. Моя бабушка является русский язык. Я знаю, как говорить на нем
Stupid goat. My grandmother is Russian. I know how to speak it.
Я сожалею, малышка. Я понятия не имел.
I am sorry little one. I had no idea.
Черт
Damn
