Okay okay...I know it's been forever since I uploaded...but school seriously kicked my ass this semester and i had no time to write at all. But Here i come with the next chapter and the rest should be comming soon since I'm out of school for a while.

on a side note, GO SEE AVATAR! Ya'll will not be dissapointed!! It is amazing...so amazing I've even written a one shot for it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all

Chapter 4: Names and Games

"Their strength is secret. They send ferocious roots beneath the ground. They grow up and they grow down and grab the earth between their hairy toes and bite the sky with violent teeth and never quit their anger. This is how they keep."~ Sandra Cisneros "House on Mango Street"

"I say 'No Powers'!" Oro shouts as the horde of mutant children pours down the stairs past me.

"It's 'said'!" Two or three children correct her.

"It's what I said!" She retorts over her shoulder.

"Hey guys!" I shout on my way to lunch. "No running in the house, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! Billy, seriously kid," I point to the Billy-sized hole in the wall near the top of the stairs and the matching one in the hardwood floor at the bottom. "You gotta practice some self control!" I point.

"And I told you," he stamps his foot. "My name is Berserker!"

"Fine," I roll my eyes without meaning to. "Fine, 'Berserker'; watch your step, okay?"

"Fine," he huffs and they continue to walk out, but as soon as they're out of sight, I can hear their footsteps speed up. "I swear…" I huff as I continue on my way into the studio.

I've noticed lately, that they've given themselves nicknames. Not all of them but a fair few have. Even the ones closer to my age; Scott for instance. I hear them call him "Cyclops" in the hall. The kid who can blast through walls, "Berserker" even little Ororo is called "Storm" by her friends. And it isn't just the names; it's the smiles that go along with the names. The rosy glow and the candid glances that travel from one kid to the next. There is a secret collective to their smiles.

"So, you've noticed it, too," Hank sighs when I tell him that day over lunch.

"Do kids do that?" I wonder as I poke at my salad. "Is it normal?"

Hank laughs. "Since when are they 'normal'?"

"You know what I mean…what does the Professor say?"

Hank shrugs as he watches them run around the courtyard. "Some of these kids want to escape their past so badly, they'll create new names, new selves. It's not completely uncommon with children with traumatic pasts."

"There's more than that," I reply.

"Unity?" Hank throws out. "They felt all alone before and now they've found others like themselves. They have a new family, as it were. A new team."

"Have you heard what they call you?" I wonder.

One of his eyebrows rise.

"Beast," I giggle.

"And you know what they call you?" He asks.

"Bring it."

"Ice Queen."

We laugh at their nicknames for us, but inside I know why they call me it and I can't blame them either.

Today I let my students out into the garden. We set up easels and canvases, capturing the magnolia bush, the apple trees, the wall covered in ivy and morning glories.

They all glare at Scott, he's the one who's been complaining about drawing fruit. Now they have the light to contend with, the elements. Like all true artists, they will suffer for their art.

I perch myself on a stool and take out the charcoal and a pad of paper. I draw them as they drew. For what reason or purpose, I could never guess, but while my hand is busy my mind races, as always, to Kayla.

The Professor insists that knowing exactly what happened to her won't make me feel better. And I know it won't. I know that. And I know it can't bring her back. She's gone forever. I know that all too well. But with each step I take, and the closer I get to who did it, will make her death more real. More permanent.

Her death is killing me too. It's altering me in a way I wish I could undo but I need to know that her death was real, who did it. Like when you break a bone; sometimes you have to re-set it before heals, otherwise it'll heal badly. I need to re-set my heart so it can heal the right way.

"You really are an artist…." There is a familiar voice behind me. I turn slowly, swallowing the instinct to protect myself, and there's David.

"Can you not do that?" I hiss in relief.

"Sorry, you were so…absorbed in your drawing." He smiles. "I figured that no matter what I did, I'd freak you out."

"Yeah, thanks." I glanced down at my smoky drawing. I'm getting rusty with the charcoal; it needs some serious work. "It's not that great."

"Are you serious?" David, without so much as a by-your-leave, grabs the pad from my hands to examine it closer. "I could never do anything like this."

I shrug and hop off the stool. "Hold on." I say to him and then patrol my students' work. When I finish with the critiques and dismiss them all to clean up, I return to David. "Sorry…teacher stuff."

"So, why don't you think this is amazing?" He shoves the pad under my nose. "Because it could draw like this, I wouldn't have the professors giving me the stink eye when I draw what I've seen under the microscope."

"You're a scientist?" I wonder.

"Almost." He puffs out his chest a little. "In a few weeks I've got to defend my thesis then find a job." He holds up a finger. "Then I'll be a scientist."

"What are you studying exactly?" I pick up a few forgotten sheets of paper.

"Human genetics mostly. Diseases and stuff." He shrugs. "Creating new medicines."

"What? Like genetic experimentation?"

"Some…that's where the science is headed."

"Do you experiment on people?" I bite back "Mutants" even though I so badly want to ask it.

David gives me a half-amused, half-confused grin. "Of course not. It's un-ethical. Why would-?"

I shrug this time. "I've heard of scientists who experimented on people…mutants…"

"It's un-ethical." He's very firm on this, there's something in the set of his jaw that I don't want to question.

"Then we're in agreement." I grin a little.

He plops down in the nearest bare flowerbed and begins planting. "Why art?"

I perch on the stool again. "I've always loved Art. Looking at it, studying it, making it. It just seemed like the logical choice."

"So, is this what you expected your life to be?" he wonders.

No, I want to go back. I want to replay it all, change it all. I would make all the right choices this time around. I want my sister back, I want my mother, and I want my family back. "Not exactly. But that's life, isn't it?"

He looks up with a gentle smile. "Yeah, I guess so."

And just like that, we're friends.

There's a small, almost tentative knock at the studio door. "Come in," I call as I finish checking all the paint can lids. I hear the door open and I turn around. Scott stands there.

"Hey Scott," I note his shifting from foot to foot. "What's up?"

"Emma," he sits down on a stool. "I don't know if you'll help but…"

"Help with what?" I wonder.

His eyes search mine for a moment.

"What is it, Scott? Tell me." I sit next to him.

"We…we've got a project that we need help with."

I laugh. "I don't know what kind of project I could help with. I'm just the art teacher."

"It's not for school." He says quietly.

I'm lead down into the long semi-un-finished basement, the twisting corridors with exposed pipes. "Scott, what the hell?" I whisper. "I thought the Professor didn't want anyone down here-."There's a sudden loud metallic groan and I hop to one side.

"Come on," he turns down another corridor, this one darker than the last few.

"Scott!" I call after him as I follow. "I think we should go back."

"We're here." He opens a door and there are Jean, Oro, Berserker, Eric and Midnight (a girl who was in the kennels with me) all in a small titanium covered room.

"What the hell is going on here?" I hiss.

"Ah, Emma…" Eric jumps off his chair and claps his hands together. "Well done, Scott. Emma, we've been waiting for you."

"I don't understand." I take a step back.

Eric catches the other childrens' eyes. They file out the door, leaving just me and Eric.

"Eric, what the hell is going on?" I snap when they're gone. "Does the Professor know about this?!"

"Emma," Eric places his hands gently on my shoulder. "I know how hurt you are. I know how it feels to lose everything you ever cared about."

I hang my head at our shared grief.

His voice drops a little. 'I know what it does to you, how it twists your soul until you think cannot possibly go on….how you can't think of anything else-"

His words draw the anger up and let it settle on my brain. In my head, I hear Kayla saying how much she loved me after our last argument: "After Mom died, who fed you? Who made sure you went to school? Who slept next to you for three months afterward so you wouldn't have nightmares? Who, Emma? Who? This grandmother who had no interest in you before? Or your sister who loves you more than anything? Who?"

At the same time I'm assaulted by images that the Professor put into my brain; Kayla alive and well, healthy and glowing. Her smile, her laugh. And at the same time, the crushing knowledge that she could never come back.

"Stop," I whisper. "Please." I don't want to hear anymore.

Eric lifts my chin with a finger. "You have a gift. A gift that can help you get what you want."

I narrow my eyes at him. "How do you know what I want?"

Eric smiles. "It's what I wanted too. You want to find who twisted your soul and make them pay."

"And you can help me do that?"

Eric holds a small folded piece of paper between his fingers. "I have the location of a lab that experiments on mutants. Perhaps they can tell us who experimented on you and killed your sister."

I can't feel the night air as Eric yanks down the metal ventilation system off the side of the lab. Side effects of my "gift" as my sister called it, curse more like it. When I allow the shield to come up, I am all but invincible, but I trade that away for being unable to actually feel anything at all.

"Oro," Eric orders as the alarms start singing into the night. "Some cover if you please."

As previously discussed, Oro rises up with the wind, casting a deep fog before us and then with an all mighty crack the lightning she conjures hits the building and the lights and alarms go dead.

"Midnight," the girl with the cat eyes steps up behind me. "Emma. Ladies first."

We take the first steps into the lab, into the silence.

"Keep your eyes open," Eric warns. "No mistakes."

Midnight and I walk thought the fog, our footsteps echoing. Far off I can hear the guards, doctors, and the screams of the patients.

"What do you see?" I whisper to Midnight.

"They're coming," she replies with a sneer in a voice.

"Ready?"

"Ready." Is the confident reply.

Flashlight beams clumsily trip through the dark and then the fog. "What the hell is his?"A gruff voice grunts. "What the hell is this?" "Where are the lights? The alarm?" "Hello?"

A bright light flashes in my face.

"Who's there-?" "Jesus, the wall's gone! What the-!"

A portly security guard dressed in blue steps out of the fog. His flashlight shakes a little as he calls out: "There're two…girls…" he's seen Midnight's cat eyes and my shimmering skin.

"You sure?" I whisper.

"Get down on your hands and knees." He orders, getting out his gun. It shines in the flashlight. "I mean it."

I nod. "I know. Go ahead. It won't help you."

He shakes his head.

"Do it," I hiss. I want him to. I want to see his reaction, his surprise and his fear. "Do it!"

Just as he puts his gun down, two other guards come bursting through the fog. Shots ring out. The bullets hit me but do nothing. Midnight moves into the shadows as I face the three guards.

"You shot her…." The first guard says to one of his fellows in shock,

"Nothing happened…" the second relies checking his gun.

"You can stop talking about me like I'm not here." I hiss.

"Miss-" the first guard begins.

There's another shot and now I'm sick of it. I walk the five paces toward this second guard, all the while he's shooting. I grab the gun from him and fling it away, after turning on the safety.

"What the hell?!" I hit him hard across the face. He falls with a thud.

Midnight knocks the other out and goes to do the same to the first guard, the one who wouldn't shoot me. But I hold up my hand silently and Midnight fades back into the fog, whistling to the others that the coast is clear.

"Get out of there," I whisper to the guard as I see the dark shapes of my friends moving past me. "Run and don't look back."

He nods and disappears into the fog.

We storm through the lab, destroying anything we can get our hands on, freeing thin and weak mutants from their cages. And then I see a flash of white and I smash through a window to trap the good doctor against the nearest wall.

"What do you know about the laboratory on Three Miles Island?" I growl.

He gurgles something and I let my forearm off his throat.

"I…" His eyes are wide in shock. "It's military…that's all I know. They sent me data."

"Who runs it?!"

"I don't know…" he gurgles more.

"Where's the information they sent you?!" I press with my whole body now. "Where?!"

He points to a sheaf of papers on the nearest desk.

"You will never do this again," I instruct. "If I hear that you are experimenting on mutants, I will come and find you…make no mistake about it."

He nods vigorously as I take a step back. Without another thought, I hit him hard in the jaw, knowing him out.

Scott looks down at my handy work, one eyebrow raised. "You're a hard one." He murmurs.

"Let's go back to the mansion," I reply, my voice as inflexible as my skin.