"Mutants. Since the discovery of their existence, they have been regarded with fear, suspicion, often hatred. Across the planet, debate rages. Are mutants the next link in the evolutionary chain or simply a new species of humanity fighting for their share of the world? Either way, it is a historic fact: Sharing the world has never been has never been humanity's defining attribute."

-Charles Xavier; from X2 (2003)

Isobel listened to Melanie's story, not once interrupting, even for a minute. She wanted to understand what was going through the teen's head; what was the reasoning behind the earlier freak out? The one thing Isobel couldn't understand — the one thing that still had her uneasy with fear — was all the glass in her apartment breaking. She could only assume Melanie's behavior previously had something to do with that incident happening, but coming up with a reasonable explanation would be a bit difficult. But when the teen's explanation came to a close, Isobel pursed her lips and let out a defeated sigh.

"Are you going to stay calm, Melanie?" Isobel asked, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

"I just. . .I don't know what's going on," Melanie exclaimed, her voice cracking. "My mother is dead, and I left Oliver back in the apartment." That was when the realization seemed to hit her at full force. She'd left her brother in the apartment their mother's body was in. "Oh God," she stammered. "I have to get him; I have to. . ."

Placing her hands firmly on the teen's shoulders, Isobel managed to catch her attention. "You stay here, okay?" she stated. "I'll get Oliver. I want you to stay right here and calm yourself down. He doesn't need to see you like this."

Isobel found it to be a miracle she could maintain such a calm demeanor. Her blood was running cold and she felt her heart beating a mile a minute. How could she be talking to Melanie so calmly? It didn't make an ounce of sense. Was it because she didn't want to deal with more destruction in her apartment? Or was it out of genuine concern for Melanie?

The teen's gaze looked at Isobel anxiously. Wringing her hands in front of her, she nodded, and took deep, shaky breaths. Oliver couldn't see her in such a pathetic state. He was probably just as confused as she was. It wasn't fair to him, either; being, essentially, abandoned in their apartment. But Isobel was going to get him, which was more than Melanie could've asked for.

And without another word from Isobel, she hurriedly left the apartment.

Once alone, Melanie carefully sat herself down on a nearby recliner. She wiped her eyes, hoping to erase any traces of tears before Isobel arrived with Oliver. The one thing he'd be able to notice, however, were her red eyes and nose. The three year old could be observant when he wanted to be, which was rare on certain occasions.

God, how do I explain this to Oliver? Melanie thought. Her initial emotions became overshadowed by a feeling of dread. What was the best way to tell him? He was only three, he didn't have a good understanding on what death meant. Oliver didn't know that dying meant going away forever. Joni was the only parent the three year old knew; his paternal family either didn't know of his existence, or wanted nothing to do with him. There was no in-between.* Taking a deep breath, Melanie ran her hands over her face. She had to think of something quick, or things would go even further downhill. As if that's even possible, she thought bitterly.

"Pull yourself together," Melanie hissed. "This isn't about you. It's about Oliver."

That had to be her motto. Before, it was about keeping Joni healthy and alive; now, it's about keeping Oliver safe and healthy. That was Melanie's job.

When the door to Isobel's apartment opened, the sixteen year old watched with a deep frown as the older woman and Oliver hurriedly shuffled inside. The three year old's eyes were wide with confusion and apprehension. He looked around anxiously before his gaze fell on Melanie's. In an instant, he was at her side.

"Something wrong?" he asked, burying his face in Melanie's neck.

"Yes," she responded. "Something is wrong."

Oliver removed his head from his sister's neck, looking at her confusedly. He wasn't expecting an answer like that, he was hoping for a little bit of reassurance. None of what was going on made an ounce of sense, and he wanted to know why he was at someone else's apartment and not the one he shared with his family. What happened that made Melanie abandon him in their home? Was it something really bad?

"Ollie, I need you to really pay attention to what I'm saying, okay?" Melanie said, her voice soft. An uneasiness fell over Oliver. "When I went into Ma's room, to give her her medicine, I. . ." She broke off for a minute, her words catching in her throat. How could she explain to her brother their mother was dead? Or at least looked dead. She wanted to believe that maybe she was seeing things, that maybe Joni had been just fine and she overreacted. But no living person would look the way their mother did. There was no doubt in Melanie's mind that Joni had passed. Taking a deep breath, the teen chose to continue. "Ollie, Ma is in Heaven," she said softly.

The look that came across Oliver's face was one Melanie wished she'd never have to see again. The three year old's bottom lip was trembling and his eyes were tearing up. Melanie's heart ached at the sight, and she felt her eyes watering up, as well. Joni was their only parent, the one person they've known their entire lives. At least, that's how it was for Oliver. Melanie had the privilege of knowing who her father was before his death. But with Joni's untimely demise, that left her two children essentially orphaned with, possibly, nowhere else to go. The sixteen year old couldn't be responsible for taking care of her brother while trying to go to school and keep a roof over their heads. She could only do so much before things go sideways again.

"Melanie?" Isobel's voice cut into the siblings' moment. She looked not only deeply uncomfortable, but also greatly sympathetic for them. Their entire world was turned upside down in the blink of an eye. When Melanie's tear-filled eyes met Isobel's, there was a brief pause before the conversation continued. "I will have to call the authorities over," she stated calmly. "They'll have to be told of what happened today."

Nodding, the sixteen year old quickly wiped her eyes before looking back at Oliver. "Ollie, while Ms. Isobel is calling the authorities, I will be doing some cleaning, okay?" Melanie said.

A wet sob escaped the three year old's mouth, which caused a lump to form in Melanie's throat. She hated seeing him so upset, but she knew he'd have to find out eventually. There was no use hiding information like that from him.

For the next ten to fifteen minutes, Melanie held her brother close while he cried. He got tears, snot, and a little bit of spit on her shirt, but it didn't matter. He was grieving in the only way he knew how. He was young, his emotions were more forthcoming than Melanie's. She had to comfort him and be the strong role model he needed. So while Oliver cried, Melanie would rub his back and try to calm him down by whatever means necessary. At that point, Isobel had finished her call. The Italian woman looked absolutely devastated.

There had to be something for her to do.

...

Authorities came to Isobel's apartment around half an hour after she called. By that point, Melanie was cleaning up all the broken glass around the apartment. Oliver was whimpering on the sofa, rubbing his eyes tiredly. For authorities, it was quite the sight.*

When Isobel explained the situation to the authorities, they went into Melanie's apartment apprehensively. They weren't sure what to expect when they went inside.

"She'll be in her bedroom," Melanie had explained. "The door's closed, I didn't want to look."

For Isobel, she wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders, keeping her close in an attempt to comfort her. It was sweet, but Melanie found it to be completely unnecessary. She wasn't in the mood for comfort, she wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be. She wanted her mother to be alive and healthy, she wanted Oliver to be the kid he was supposed to be. Melanie wanted her father to be alive and she wanted to feel that security her life was lacking. But none of that seemed to matter anymore. Her life would no longer be secure or comfortable. Melanie's life went from revolving around her mother's health and Oliver's well-being, to just worrying about her half-brother. In that moment, the teen knew she'd have to make great sacrifices for her brother to succeed.

Maybe try giving up on becoming a doctor, Melanie thought. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at that.

"Everything will be just fine," Isobel said, trying to sound convincing. "I promise you that."

"You don't have to lie," Melanie said, her voice dull, almost lifeless. "Oliver and I have nowhere else to go. I'll probably have to quit school to work full-time. That's if the state doesn't separate us."

"That won't happen."

Turning her head slightly, the teen looked at Isobel with a deep frown. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You and your brother will not be separated. I'll take you in."

"No." The statement was firm, without an ounce of room for argument. "You're not going to do that to yourself. And after what I did to your apartment. . .I can't let you shoulder us, Isobel. There's already too much going on right now."

"I'll admit," Isobel sighed, "I'm uncertain about how you were able to do all of that, but I want to help you and your brother. You're both amazing children and I want what's best for you."

"Why?" Melanie crossed her arms over her chest. "What's in it for you?"

"What's in it for me?" Isobel arched a brow at that. "I get to see two intelligent children grow up to lead happy lives. And what you did earlier? With the glass? We can figure that out together. You've gone through enough trauma — you and your brother have. Let me help you."

...

It had to be some kind of twisted dream. That was how Melanie was interpreting it all. First, the trip with Oliver to Pop's. Then, the sight of Juni in her bedroom. All these things building up to Melanie, somehow, causing all the glass in Isobel's apartment to explode. Then having to listen to a random woman say she'd take in two children she barely knew? It didn't seem — at all — like something a sane person would say. It really didn't.

Melanie's emotions had calmed down some, only because the numbness had started coming in. She let it take over her body, her mind. She allowed it to bring her temporary relief from the thickness of her other emotions. The grief and horror and confusion of seeing Joni was too much.* The guilt and horrendous sadness Melanie felt for telling Oliver was suffocating.

She didn't want Isobel to feel responsible for her or Oliver. For Melanie, it made her feel like a liability more than anything. But on top of that, the teen found herself going back to what she did to Isobel's apartment. She'd gotten so emotional that all the glass spontaneously broke. How could that be properly explained? There was no way anyone could come up with a reasonable explanation. Melanie had to wonder if Isobel's sudden feeling of responsibility for the siblings was out of genuine concern or because of some ulterior motive. Was she going to hold what the teen did against her? Expose Melanie if she did something wrong? It was hard to say, really.

You've got to be careful, Melanie thought, fiddling with her fingers. Isobel may seem like she's a nice woman, but she could turn on you in an instant.

Looking at her hands for a moment, the sixteen year old let out a sigh. Were her emotions the reason why all of Isobel's glass exploded? If so, then how could something like that happen? Melanie wanted an explanation. She wanted to be told that it was all in her head, that she couldn't possibly do something like that. But she'd spent a good portion of her time cleaning up the mess, and she knew that she had something to do with it. As badly as Melanie wanted to deny it, she did.

Glancing over at Oliver, the teen felt a frown form on her face. His eyes were red and puffy, his nose a bit red, too. He was laying on Isobel's chair, not really looking at anything in particular. Oliver refused to talk to anyone, to even acknowledge his surroundings. It was a pitiful sight, but completely necessary for what had just happened.

"Kids?" Isobel's voice cut through the deafening silence. The siblings refused to leave their neighbor's apartment, not wanting to be involved in what was going on in any way. When Isobel was met with silence, she walked into her small living room, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Hey, how're you guys doing?" she asked.

"Are they gone?" Melanie asked.

"Not yet. They want to question you, Melanie."

Oh great.

A scowl formed on the teen's face.

"Please, just cooperate with them," Isobel said.

Standing up, Melanie gave one last look to Oliver before leaving the apartment. The teen saw paramedics coming in and out of her home, doing some evaluations on everything before talking quietly with each other. On the outside of Isobel's door, however, was a policeman.

"Are you Melanie?" he asked.

Melanie nodded wordlessly.

"I've got a few questions for you," he asked.

Again, the teen nodded.

"Okay. . .," he sighed. "The woman in there is your mother?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what happened to her?" he asked.

"She was sick," Melanie said. "I took my brother to get ice cream, and when we came back, she looked like that."

"Are you able to contact a relative? Your father? Grandparents?"

So she really is dead.

"My father is dead. I have no relatives nearby."

"Your brother has a different father, or. . .?"

Melanie nodded.

"Do you know his whereabouts?"

"No."

Letting out a sigh, the officer nodded. "Well, we're going to have to contact next of kin," he stated. "Ms. Giovanni said she'd allow you and your brother a place here, but we have to rule out other possibilities."*

Awesome.

(A/N):

First off, sorry for the wait on this chapter. Second, I know it's not the best, but I hope you guys at least appreciate it. Lastly, be sure to leave constructive criticism where you think it's due. I'd greatly appreciate it, guys!

The MCU does not belong to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the homework I have to finish. If you've got ideas for subplots or OCs, then leave a PM or a review and I'll add them in as soon as possible.

Leave a random fact in the review section, if you've got one. It could be on something new or on something you've known already. I don't care. I'm a curious person.

Blessed be,

Florida Mayers