"She should be useful, very useful. But we just have to convince her to come. If we don't, well, the results could be disastrous. Force will not help us." It was a female voice, American, blonde and very, very smart.

"And once we have this Hope girl, no one stands a chance? None of the other mutants, or any of those pesky humans?" He spoke, in a superior voice, as if asserting his dominance over the blonde woman.

"Oh, yes. No one will ever be able to defeat us, or her. She is more powerful than any of the other mutants. More powerful than all of us combined," It was the blonde woman again, leaning in subtly, as if trying to coax him into something.

"We will win this war," the man said, standing up, "and all the unfit will die along with the ones unworthy of these gifts. And we mutants shall run free. For the first time."

She gave him a smirk, before standing up, and practically throwing herself on him, her lips attacking his with hunger, and need. Her red lipstick was streaked on his lips and his cheeks, marking the fact that she had been there.

When she pulled away, the man pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the red off of his mouth.

"You'll go to Russia for me," he ordered her, in the superior tone once more, "and I shall meet this Hope girl." He smirked at the girl once more, before calling out a name, "Azazel."

A man with red skin, and a scorpion tail popped into the room, as if out of thin air.

"It's time."

Darkness.

Screams echoed in her ears, as she ran down the hallways, trying to follow the sound. She tripped, stumbling on the dusty rock, scrapes covering the palm of her hands as well as her knees. She got up quickly, knowing that she had no time to loose. The screams were quickly fading, as if they were walking away. She started off once more, this time more conscious of her surroundings; rock walls, and ground. Rock everywhere.

Another scream: this time louder than before, almost ear-splitting. Pain and agony and sadness.

She ran harder, until the walls opened up. A cavern, lit solely by a lantern, the yellow light just barely covering the middle of the room, making it almost impossible for her to see anything besides the almost orange rock.

"So," She turned around, looking for the source of the voice, "what are you willing to trade for the safety of your family, as well as your friends?"

She gasped, as the light flared, and she finally saw the source of the screams. Her brother, her father, her family, tied against the walls of the cavern. Gashes covered their torsos, the newest spewing red blood, which quickly dripped down onto the floor, creating a dark puddle.

Then there was all the people she had just met. Angel, with long gashes covering her arms and legs, the ivory of her bone just starting to show. Raven, her hands nailed to the wall, along with her feet, barely hanging on. Hank, hung upside down, shackles around his wrists and ankles. Darwin, with stab wounds to his arms and thighs. Erik, his limbs bend in unnatural ways. And Charles, light cuts littering his chest.

She let out a scream.

The voice chuckled, "What will you do for them?"

Her brother let out a scream as a cut formed on his stomach, blood slowly dripping from the wound.

"NO! Please, no! I'll do anything," her father was stabbed, in the same place as her brother, "ANYTHING! Just don't hurt them."

All of the other mutants were stabbed at the same time, the blood was becoming too much. She screamed, "Please stop. STOP! No. NO!" Blood, so much blood. It was like she was drowning in the red that was seeping from each wound.

"What will you do for them?"

Xx.

Charles woke to the sounds of screams.

Yet, no one else did.

"No! Please, no! I'll do anything. ANYTHING. Just don't hurt them." A piercing scream, "Please stop. STOP. No. NO!" Agony, whomever was screaming was in pure agony.

Leaving his room quickly and quietly, his feet padded against the hardwood floors as he ran through the hallways, trying to find the source of the screams, and the pain. He came to a dead end, the end of the hallway where he had given the girls their rooms, and stared at the door at which the screams sounded the loudest.

Hope's room.

He cursed himself for not knowing sooner, and a god he didn't believe in for giving this girl these horrible nights, before he slowly opened the unlocked door.

She wasn't thrashing. She was still, her knees pulled up towards her chest, her arms clutching them so tight that the skin around her nails were white. He could tell there would be welts later.

She wasn't screaming, he realized, her mind was.

Blood. It started down her leg and onto the sheets, the bright red shining In the moonlight.

He didn't know what to do.

"Help. Help me please." He almost didn't hear it, it was a whimpered cry of pain and sadness, and she had given up. But, she still lay there, not moving. If he hadn't known better, it would seem as though she was dead.

Charles sat on the edge of her bed, not daring to get any closer to her. She jolted at the feel of the bed move, suddenly awake. She looked at Charles, the fear in her eyes shining.

Please, it was her thoughts.

He scooted closer to the center of the bed, where she was laying, and pulled her close.

"You make it through," he told her, as he rubbed her back as a soothing gesture and clutched her whimpering body close, "you're strong. And you have me. You'll always have me." He didn't even know this girl, he told himself. Nothing about her. She was a mystery to him, yet here he was, consoling her in her darkest time.

"Blood," the word were quiet, but Charles heard them loud and clear, "so much blood. Everyone was hurt, everyone was dying. And the blood, oh the blood."

She let out a small cry, but he shushed her, "You're alright. I'm here. You're alright."

He didn't know what possessed him to say that, but he knew it felt somehow right. She was scared, and the words felt so right. She relaxed into him at the sound of his voice, and the words spoken with them.

Her hands held tightly to his bare chest, holding onto the sides of his ribs as if for dear life, while her head laid right above his heart. Their legs tangled together, hers half on top of his. While his arms were tight around her hips in an almost protective way, he drew small designs on the small of her back, lulling her to fall back to sleep.

They laid, for a long time, both of them falling asleep at one point, though neither of them knew when.

Xx.

Raven wasn't one to snoop.

Or, she liked to believe that.

But, when she knocked on Hope's door and she didn't answer it, Raven credited the fact that she opened the door to her curiosity about the girl.

Hope's mysterious. You can't expect me to just not open the door, was her personal reasoning.

Raven wasn't even sure what he would find. Maybe the bed was made, and Hope was just in the shower when she knocked. Maybe Hope was a heavy sleeping, or maybe she snored.

What Raven did not expect was a shirtless Charles hugging Hope to his chest while they both slept soundly.

Raven did not expect that at all.

So, she did what first came to her mind. She closed the door softly, and walked herself to the kitchen before letting out a squeal.

"So," Raven as Hope sat down for breakfast, "you and Charles, huh?" Charles' face snapped in their direction, as did almost everyone else at the tables. Erik's showing something close to anger. Raven stashed that in the back of her mind before looking back at Hope.

Hope's face turned a shade of pink, before she whispered, "It's not like that."

"Sure," Raven rolled her eyes, before winking at Charles, who gave her a shocked look.

"It's not," Hope's voice was a bit louder, and when Raven gave her a disbelieving look she continued, "I have nightmares, almost every night. And for some reason, last night Charles knew. He calmed me down, and helped me fall back asleep. I don't even remember the dream, but I know that it scared the living daylights out of me."

Hope stood up, and threw her napkin on her plate, "Look, Raven, I get that you think it'd be, I don't know right or something, if me and Charles had this 'office romance' type thing, but you need to get it through your thick head that I do not that right now. Nor, do I believe, does Charles. So, if you could step back for a moment at stop trying to set me up, I would really appreciate it." Hope practically stormed out, and seconds later an ear-piercing scream came from the hallway she had just entered, followed by a string of curses.

"She's telling the truth," Charles affirmed, "But, you didn't have to bring it up in front of everyone, Raven. I thought you were better than that." He left the room, following after Hope, leaving a half-finished waffle and a cup of apple juice laying on the table.

"What the hell happened?"

Erik.

"I found Charles shirtless on her bed. I mean, I kind of assumed and I guess that wasn't right but I mean, she was just wearing her bra and her was shirtless and-"

She cut herself off, seeing the look in Erik's eyes that worried her. It wasn't anger, no, that was when Charles had let Schmidt get away. No, this was something else.

Jealousy.

Raven knew it. She knew that it wasn't just her mind playing tricks on her. Erik, oh Erik, liked Hope. He probably didn't even notice it yet, they had only know each other for well under three weeks.

This was jealousy. Charles had had an intimate moment with Hope, while he was practically thrown in the dustbin. Hope had chosen to share something with Charles that none of the other knew. He was getting close to Hope, while Erik was sitting at the table listening to Raven talk about their exploits.

Erik Lehnsherr was very jealous.

Xx.

Hope hummed as she threw another dart towards the bull's eye, hitting it close to the center. She smirked at her accomplishment, humming the tune to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." She felt so cliché singing the song, but it was the only song she knew by heart.

Her mother had loved the movie more than anybody Hope had ever met. Judy Garland was one of the few people that her mother had ever looked up to: "anyone—any woman—who can make their name that important deserves to be praised for her accomplishments." Wendy Summers would preach to her daughter.

Another dart was thrown: harder, this time. With more accuracy.

"Your mother seems like a nice woman." Hope didn't even react to Charles entering the "we-have-nowhere-else-to-keep-the-mutants-so-let's-just-shove-them-into-a-tiny-room-with-a-couch-and-some-food-in-it-and-hope-they-don't-compain" room (as Hope liked to call it). She wasn't surprised either; she was expecting him to come after her.

"Seemed." Hope corrected, "She's not very nice anymore. Well, actually," she turned around and faced Charles, "I wouldn't know. Haven't seen her since I caught her getting frisky with my boyfriend when I was seventeen."

Charles' face contorted, switching between emotions, before finally settling on empathy. Though he didn't say anything: he didn't know what to say.

"I understand," she told him, "there's not much to say when someone tells you something like that." They lapsed into a silence after that, the almost inaudible sound of their breathing, and the inconsistent tap of the darts hitting the worn dartboard the only sounds that seemed to matter.

Hope wasn't hitting the dartboard anymore though: it was always too far to the left. She sighed as her twelfth dart hit almost the exact spot it had beforehand, and ran a hand through her stringy red hair.

"You need some help?" Charles asked, getting up from his seat on the couch.

"Yeah," Hope said, putting her hand up to get ready to shoot another dart, "I just can't seem to aim right—I mean that in both the literal and metaphorical sense." She gave a breathy laugh at her unintentional pun, as did Charles.

"Here, let me help you," he put his hand over hers, his arm following the curve of her own, relaxing into her back seamlessly. His mouth was at her ear, seeing as she wasn't even close to as tall as him.

"Just relax," he whispered, his arm guiding hers back, before shooting it forward, the dart hitting too far to the right.

Hope snorted before stepping away from his embrace.

"You think practically dry humping me while helping me throw darts is going to make me weak in the knee's and fall into bed with you?" Hope questioned, giving him a disbelieving look, "Don't even try to deny it. I've been inside your head, mister. I know about all the times you've checked out my ass." She threw him a scathing glare before throwing the last dart at the target, and storming out of the room.

She didn't even get to see if she was on target.

She was.

Hope had a list of the seven most annoying things anyone could ever do to her: and number three was touching her without her consent. After the incident when she was sixteen (which involved her boyfriend at the time accidently popping her arm out of its socket), she didn't really take kindly to people touching her when she didn't want them too.

Hope walked through the halls of the facility, not really caring—or noticing—where she was going. The anxiety and anger had made its way through her system almost as soon as she had left the room; she just didn't want to face Charles. As much as she wanted to apologize for her outburst, she knew that it wasn't something she should feel sorry for. He invaded more than her personal space often, and as much as he had helped her the night before, she just couldn't let that go.

You need to learn boundaries, Charles.

She knew he was inside her head. It wasn't like he couldn't stay out for long periods of time.

And you need to learn to control your temper.

She scoffed at his accusation. Yes, she had had two outbursts that day, but both were justified. She had a lid on her temper; everyone else just needed to learn not to cross her boundaries. She was much more powerful than all of the mutants they had gathered up combined. And while she couldn't fully control her powers, she knew that she could do much more than any of the others could.

I would if everyone learned that there are lines you shouldn't cross.

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?" Hope twisted around, only to find herself facing Erik, whom she had assumed had followed her.

"Is stalking a fun hobby, Erik?" Hope was starting to get annoyed with everyone not leaving her alone.

"It's only stalking if the attention is unwanted," He flashed her a dazzling smile, and while it would have made many women go weak in the knees, it just grated against her nerves.

"Oh, the attention is more than unwanted," She said, before walking away from him, hoping that he would just leave her alone.

"You don't believe that," He ordered her, catching up quickly.

"Oh, but Erik, I truly do."

"I refuse to believe that."

"Well, refuse all you want. Doesn't make it any less true." It was starting to become fun, arguing with Erik. He had a quick wit, not unlike Hope. They could keep up with each other.

"Your truth is only an illusion created by your anger and anxiety."

"Your truth is only a fantasy brought to life by your unlimited curiosity about me."

"No," he smirked at her, "it's just really fun to rile you up."

She scoffed, and rolled her eyes, but let a small smile creep onto her face.

"I would say the same, but it would be unwarranted. It's just nice to have a conversation that doesn't involve my past, or my powers." She looked at the ground, her walking ceasing, "It's hard, you know," she looked up, "talking about things that make you want to cry without doing so. I feel as if everyone in this facility expects me to be the messiah."

She shook off something that wasn't visible, before placing a clearly fake smile on her face. She didn't want to burden Erik with her problems; he already had his own.

"You're only human," Erik winced at his wording when Hope threw him a look, "Let me rephrase that: you're only mutant. You can only go so far before you break. We just don't know how far yet."

Hope cocked her head to the side, "You sure you want to find out what happens when I break? I'm dangerous and unpredictable. Not a good combination."

"Most of the time." He was trying to help.

It wasn't working.

"Exactly. Most, means majority, which means that almost all the time something bad will happen." She was starting to get frustrated once again, "Why don't you ask my broth what happens when I get angry or upset or anxious? OH! Wait! HE'S DEAD, ERIK. Bad things happen when I break. Very bad things. You remember what you saw when you first saw me? Yeah, THAT'S what happens when I break. Bad things happen to the people I care about and it's all my fault."

She wanted to cry, she wanted to fall to the floor and curl up and just let everything she had been keeping in out.

Not in front of Erik. Not in front of anyone.

"You think you know me," an angry sigh, "hell, you think you own me. But guess what? I am not someone you want to mess with. I am way past my point of no return at the moment, Erik. So, if I were you I'd turn around and walk away before I break your neck."

But she walked away before he could answer. Her resolve was holding only so much: not enough. Hope's room was close, she just needed to hold up for a little longer. Her breathing was starting to become faster, and shorter. Her jaw locked.

She knew the feeling: it happened every time she cried.

Just a little longer.

Tears started to leak from her eyes, unwillingly. She was close to her room, she knew exactly where she was. She sped up, trying to get there quicker.

A whimper made its way through her throat, and just barely got out of her mouth.

Hope slammed open the door to her room and closed it just as quickly, before sitting in front of it.

She didn't want anyone to see.

She didn't want anyone to know.

Xx.

Alex Summers didn't realize it was Hope until her saw her.

Summers was a common last name. He didn't expect her to be someone he knew, someone he was related to. Yet she was.

Hope and Alex were close growing up, along with Scott, Hope's older brother. But then Alex's mother took him away. She moved him across the country on the basis that her brother wasn't normal.

He wasn't, but as it turned out, neither was her son.

So, more than ten years later, when Alex see's Hope with his – and apparently her – fellow mutants, he felt a joy that he hasn't felt in so long.

"Hope."

"Alex."

Their hug lasted ages, and no one else understood. Were they related? Because yes, they're last name was the same, but was that something else?

"You're alright." She was crying into his chest as they rocked back and forth, "You're alive."

"Of course," he whispered back, "I could never leave."

It seemed like a proclamation of love, but the two knew that they were the only ones left. They were the last of the Summers' clan. They were it.

"He's gone," her sobs were more constant as she told him about her brother, "He left us."

Alex just held onto his cousin for dear life. She was so fragile, she was so breakable, and he couldn't decide if she was still in one piece or not.

Because, really, Hope herself wasn't sure.