Here is chapter two, hope anyone who reads this enjoys it. I do not own X-Men, only Ebony and any other OC's. I would like to thank NightWindAlchemist, Castiel Angel Heart, shiki ryuusaki and seetherfan77 for favourite/following this story, it made my day! Again, thanks for the review Castiel Angel Heart!

Chapter Two

I stared into the beasts eyes. They were bright, a blazing red. It was the epitome of anger. They were all to familiar. But where? Where had I seen such eyes before? I couldn't think. My insides were churning until I felt like I was going to throw up. My head felt dizzy, like I was going to faint. I kept myself awake long enough to see the beasts eyes change. Like ink being poured into water, the red turned to were a comforting, warm colour and instead of feeling anger I felt serenity. The beast then spoke. It's accent was very British, almost alluringly so.

"Wake up..."

I jolted awake with a sharp gasp. I frantically looked around to see I was sitting next to Erik, who was admittedly looking at me a little worriedly. We were on the plane to Argentina. I loved flying, although Erik seems to have a disliking of it. No, let me rephrase that. He hated planes. It was an irrational hate, but one he took very seriously. He refused to sit by the window because 'the thought of being so high in the air on an unstable piece of metal that he could easily destroy' was sickening in some strange way.

-On Land-Argentina-

Argentina was beautiful to say the least. I had morphed my hair into an auburn colour and changed clothing. I was wearing white shorts that stopped mid-thigh and a sleeveless aquamarine shirt. I had a pair of Ray-Bands in case my eyes flashed. The seems to be doing that a lot more now... my powers happen by themselves sometimes. It had never happened before, but I found my emotions getting the better of myself. It never happened before...

Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

Erik and I walked briskly over the grassy plains, Villa Gesell coming quickly into view. It was next to a huge, majestic lake that glittered under the suns bright rays. Around the warm looking Villa were large fern trees. It was truly beautiful. I wouldn't mind living here, but I am definitely not good with the heat. I've always felt more at home it colder, dreary places like England. I've never been to England to be honest.

We entered the place I believed was the Caspartina, or something like that. The only people in there was the barman and two men drinking beer at a table. Of course, as soon as they set eyes on me, they were basically undressing me with their eyes. Disgusted, I sauntered past. I heard one of the men spill his beer and curse as it hit his trousers. My eyes flashed and I grimaced. I didn't mean to do that, no matter how much I wanted to tear them new ones. That's just what I mean about my powers happening by themselves.

I sat beside Erik. He was staring at a picture of the owners. I tensed. Schmidt was standing in-between two other men. Those men were right behind me, the ones that had been ogling me. I wanted so badly to see what Erik was thinking, but I knew he hated it when I did that. Now wasn't he time to piss him off. Not here.

"One beer and one tequila." I raised an eyebrow at the order Erik had asked for. When the order came, Erik looked mildly surprised.

"German beer?" He said.

"Of course." The barman replied before wiping the mahogany bar top. I took a swig of my tequila.

"It is Bitburger." A man spoke behind us, "You like it?"

"The best." Erik replied, "What brings you to Argentina?" Of course, they were speaking in German.

"Oh, the climate. I'm a pig farmer." A deep growl resonated from my throat as he laughed to his friend. Luckily, it was low enough not to be heard.

"Tailor." The other man, smoking a cigarette said, "Since I was a boy. My father made the best suits in Düsseldorf." Erik stood and began to walk over to the mens table, beer in hand.

"Erik..." I warned, but he ignored me. Standing up, I stood beside him albeit begrudgingly.

"My parents were from Düsseldorf." Erik said happily, but I knew it was a ruse.

"What was their names?" The pig farmer asked. I smirked, as he still had a wet patch over his trousers, but had already gotten himself another beer.

"They didn't have a name." Erik was smiling, but his eyes screamed hatred. The two men exchanged looks. "I was taken from them, by the pig farmer..." He clicked glasses with the farmer, "And tailor." He clicked glasses with the tailor.

I watched and placed my hand on Erik's shoulder as all three men took large gulps of their beer, eyes flicking towards each other until they lowered their pints. I wasn't expecting Erik to show the mark the Nazi's had left on his forearm so freely. It must have taken a lot of willpower for him to do so. I smelt utter fear and apprehension as the farmers whole body tensed. It was times like these where my primal instincts kicked in.

The farmer suddenly pulled out a silver knife and lifted it to plunge it into Erik's shoulder. Erik, however, was equally as fast and grabbed the farmers wrist. I used my telekinesis to slam the mans hand onto the table top. He let go of the knife and I heard his wrist crack under the force. He cried out and Erik held the knife strongly.

"Blood and Honour?" He asked, reading the inscription on the blade, "Which one would you like to lose first?"

"We were under orders!" The farmer cried. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tailor stand up.

I moved his chair and it slammed into the backs of his legs, causing him to fall unceremoniously onto his backside. He looked up at me across the room. I shook my head, smirking. He stood again, but was immediately shot down, a bullet wound in his head. I looked to see it was the barman that had shot him, but his hands were shaking and his face was covered in sweat. Erik... I watched as Erik threw the knife into the barman's stomach and I winced as he called back the knife into his outstretched hand and stabbed the farmers hand onto the table. Why did he always have to do this? Turn it into bloodshed; no matter whether the victims deserved it or not. There is evil in him, but I cannot hate him. He is my brother.

"Who... What are you?" the farmer feebly asked through his pain. Erik ran a hand through his hair and I threw the rest of my tequila into my mouth.

"Let's just say I'm Frankenstein's monster..." He said in English this time, voice laced with anger as he walked over to the picture on the wall, "And we're looking for my creator."

With that, the dead barman's gun lifted into his hand. A loud bang caused my eyes to flash in shock as the farmer face planted the table, blood beginning to seep out onto the wood. The hundreds of wine and whisky bottles smashed and almost blew up. The liquid sprayed all over the bar and I jumped away slightly in shock. Had I just done that? How could I have lost control over a gun shot? Maybe it wasn't the gunshot, but what else could it have been? I felt Erik's eyes on me.

"Was that you?" He asked.

"I... I don't know..." I admitted.

"Has this happened before?" He asked, ignoring my uncertainty and took my answer as I simple yes.

I was silent.

"Ebony... Has this happened before?" He had a more forceful tone to his voice and I looked into his steely blue-green eyes. He was completely serious.

"Yes..." I breathed. He sighed and grabbed my shoulders gently, looking into my eyes.

"What's wrong? Why have you been losing control like this?"

"I can honestly say I don't know."