Hey ya'll! Wow, I have READERS AND REVIEWERS! It's my misled dreams come true! Sooooo, in response to multiple comments and interest in my other fanfictions I have decided to start posting for this one again. I know I haven't done anything with this story for a while, but now there's someone to write for! Thank you for your reviews! Seriously, if you have any comments, suggestions, questions, seriously, ANYTHING…just message or comment! I WILL respond! (Or at least try to!) Love you guys!

Also-please try to ignore grammar and spelling mistakes, between finals and family commitments I have very little time to review…Thx! -E.H.

The X-Men (plus their three newest recruits) made their way across the road and out of the complex, only stopping when Charles suddenly said,

"Alex, incoming."

"Huh?" Asked Alex looking over his shoulder, but he was too late. A blurred figure darted around the corner of a building and ran smack into him. Alex and the other man were thrown to the ground. There was a moment of confusion as everyone turned to watch and Alex leaped back to his feet, clearly shaken. "Little more warning next time, Professor?" Charles shrugged and watched the other man pick himself up off the asphalt. He was young, maybe 17, unshaven with long matted hair. His clothes were old and dirty and his overall appearance suggested that he had been sleeping rough for an extended period. He looked nervously between the members of the group surrounding him, apparently lost for words. He smiled a lopsided smile at Hank who suddenly seemed to remember him from somewhere.

"Oh, hi there…Guys, this is the…werewolf-guy … The one I told you about." Charles, upon sensing the boy's unease, put out a friendly hand.

"Charles Xavier. It's good to meet you Ian." The kid looked terrified.

"How did you know my name? I never told him." He said, pointing to Hank.

"We should get in the van, this is too open." Hank interjected before Charles could answer. With a nod Xavier agreed and Xandra stepped behind him and pushed his chair across the road with the others. Charles, surprisingly, didn't mind so much. He trusted her. When they reached the van in the alley Hank opened the door to the back seats, Alex got in front to drive and Sean resumed his seat in the passenger side. Hank walked around back, careful not to hit Vanessa's head on the wall of the alley, and opened the trunk which was a large space behind the back row of seats. He gently laid the still-unconscious girl in the back and reached for the blanket stored under the seats. He tucked it around her and watched her for a moment. Her face, still covered in frost, was quite beautiful. If not for her pale complexion and icy covering, she could have been asleep. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a clawed finger and thought about how lucky Andy was. When Hank had been 15, he would have done anything for a girlfriend like Vanessa. Now that he was in his 20s and…well…blue…His chances of getting any girl at all were next to nil. He sighed and stepped back. He started to close the trunk door, but a pale-green hand held it open.

"Excuse me; I'd like to be with her." Andy said quietly. Hank nodded and opened the door to let him climb in. Andy took a seat on the floor beside Vanessa and put his hand on hers. He looked up at Hank who lowered his gaze after meeting Andy's eye.

"She should be alright for now. Freezing has stopped the bleeding for now, but I really don't know what will happen when she wakes up." Hank muttered. "Tell me if she does anything while we're driving, ok?" Andy nodded, but didn't look away. Hank looked up at him again and was surprised to see the kid smiling.

"Thank you…for everything. Really." Hank let himself smile a little.

"It's nothing."

"It's nice to know I'm not the only one. You know…with…"

"A handsome complexion?"

"Yeah, you could say that." They laughed a little at what they both knew to be an understatement.

"Hey Hank? You coming or what?" Called Alex from the front of the van. Hank shrugged at Andy.

"Were not alone." He said quietly. "We're not alone." He closed the door and got into the seat beside the Professor who had somehow managed to get in with the help of Xandra. She was seated on his other side nearest the window. As Alex started the van she jumped a little and grabbed the Professor's hand, startled by the sudden roar of the engine. He smiled comfortingly at her and tried talking out loud to her again.

"It's alright, it's just the engine." He said gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked at him, puzzled. Her lips twitched a little and she exhaled loudly, like she was testing out her mouth.

"En…gine…?" She stuttered hesitantly. Charles nodded. He reached for her mind, thankful that she was beginning to control her thoughts.

Do you understand what I say when I speak out loud?

Yes, most of it...but words are too… limited. It's like only being able to say three sentences your whole life.
Charles understood what she meant. When speaking telepathically, one could speak through words, emotions, images, and even sounds and abstract ideas…but out loud you're limited to words to express everything. As he thought about this, Alex started to drive. He pulled out of the alley, taking a left and continuing down the street until it met the busier road that lead out of the neighborhood.

Yes, I know what you mean…but you'll have to learn if you want to talk to people. Take Alex for example. He doesn't much care for my preferred method of communication... He looked at Alex and raised his fingers to his temple. He grinned and projected his voice to him.

Hello Alex, can we stop for dinner?

"Geezes!" Alex exclaimed, swerving the car as Charles' voice echoed in his head. He regained control of the vehicle and looked over his shoulder, annoyed. "Geeze Prof, I hate it when you do that!" Charles looked down at Xandra who, to his enormous satisfaction, was laughing. Alex glanced at her in frustration and turned back around. Trying to change the subject, he spoke to Ian. "So…What's this whole werewolf thing like?" Ian, who was sitting behind Charles in the back row, squirmed uncomfortably under the gaze of everyone in the car. Even Andy's face peered over the back of the seat to listen.

"Well, uh…" He stuttered, looking around. Alex watched him in the rearview mirror. "There's actually something I needed your help with…about the wolf thing." Everyone was silent, waiting for him to continue. Sean and Hank exchanged glances. "See…I think it knows I'm…here." He observed the blank looks of his audience and decided to be more specific. "Ok, so…when I turn into the wolf…I'm still me…but I can't control it. It's all doing its own thing, and I know it's another mind…another creature…that's a part of me, but until know I don't think it knew I existed the same way I know it does."

"How do you know it's figured it out?" Charles asked, frowning. Hesitantly, Ian slowly lifted up hit tattered t-shirt. Across his chest were four long gashes, streaking from his left shoulder to his right hip.

"It tried to keep me from coming back." As everyone looked in disbelief, he added, "And he nearly did."

Ian was tired. He was exhausted after a night of running around in circles in an old warehouse and ripping apart every cardboard box and chewing through every metal shelf in the place, but even more than he was tired, he was thankful. He was so thankful that no one had gotten interested in the strange noises coming from the warehouse next door. He was also thankful for the feeling of drowsiness that had suddenly come over him. He knew that this always meant the wolf would soon be gone and he would have his life back…at least until it got hungry again. The wolf found a corner of the warehouse, shaking its head from side to side, trying to stay awake. That was strange. Usually it just fell asleep and Ian woke up as himself...the wolf hardly ever put up a fight…

The wolf lay down and batted its snout with a large clawed paw, managing to keep its eyes open. Ian felt the pain inflicted by the claws scratching his skin and tried to hurry up the wolf's slumber, concentrating on the exhaustion he was feeling. Suddenly, despite his efforts, the wolf leapt to its feet and let out a horrible howl, clawing furiously at his stomach and digging in with his claws. If Ian had control of a mouth at that point, he would have cried out in pain, but as he was he could only take it. He tried again to make the wolf sleep, but the pain was distracting him, making it difficult. The wolf seemed not to care about what it was doing to itself…it continued to tear at his face and furry arms and side, inflicting as much pain as possible. Ian got the message. Try to take over and you get this. All Ian could do was go along with it as the pain got worse and worse, even after the wolf stopped clawing.

Eventually satisfied that it would no longer be opposed, it started to walk around again, each step immensely painful for Ian, but bearable for the wolf. It wandered about for a while, and Ian had the horrible feeling of being able to sense its emotions. Usually he could keep his thoughts separate from the wolf's, but now that he was concentrating on the pain he could feel its satisfaction at remaining in control. Ian was also horrified to feel its hunger. It wanted to hunt.

The wolf looked up to a window high on the wall of the warehouse and Ian's mind raced, searching for a way to stop the wolf. There was a tall storage shelf that could easily allow the wolf to climb up and get out. If it got out, anyone on the street or in their home was fair game. Forcing his mind into the wolf's he gave a fierce command to stop. The wolf howled and ripped at its chest. Ian had gained enough of a handhold into the wolf's mind to make it hesitate as is ran to the shelf, but it wasn't enough to stop it tearing at his flesh.

Don't you feel anything you sick monster? He screamed in his mind. The wolf suddenly stopped. It stood in the middle of the warehouse and tilted its head to the side. Ian felt very sick. What had he done?

You are there... Thought the wolf, and Ian was horrified. It knew… It knew he existed… He had always been able to hide from the wolf, to be quiet and afraid while it drove his body around like a stolen car, but now it knew that there was someone in the back seat…and it could speak to him…

Get out of my body. Ian commanded with more anger in his words than he had expected. There was a long pause and the wolf stopped walking. Its lips curled up in an agitated snarl.

Get out of mine. It retorted. Ian, had he been in control of his spine, would have felt it shiver. The wolf's voice was cool, controlled, and angry. It was like he was listening to someone teetering on the edge of a homicidal frenzy. Clearly the wolf was not intimidated.

This is my life, I want it back…Now. Ian pressed, unnerved but determined. There was another long pause. Ian felt the rising adrenaline that always showed itself before the wolf made a kill. His heart beat faster and faster and a sense of sickly enjoyment rose in his throat. The wolf's snout rose to the high ceiling of the warehouse, teeth bared, and gave a long, hollow howl.

Or what? It snarled. With a fantastic leap and a shower of broken glass it jumped up the shelf and out of the window…into the New York City night.