WARNING: The ending scene to this episode contains a scene of such graphic nature, I'm not sure I should have published it. I do not recommend that anyone under the age of 18 read the scene, nor anyone who is disturbed by rape, assault, and child brutality. This warning should not be taken lightly.
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AN: Here we are at the Season 2 Premiere! Thank you all so much for your support over the summer! I've been working on this new season for several months now and have already completed through Episode Six. There's so much changing that if I were to reveal even a fourth of it, I'd spoil so much.

Right off of the bat I can tell you this season is kicking the intensity to another level. Season 1 was more of a prelude and Season 2 is where things get serious. I can safely say this is the most boring episode this season. If you've been keeping an eye out on my Profile, my stories, or my Twitter, you will have seen a ton of stuff about Season 2 posted. If you haven't been keeping an eye out, I suggest you go look at those updates. Quite a lot has happened and will happen!

Now, a bit of sad news. The series Bishop focusing on the Young Avengers will not be taking off because of a lack of reviews. Because of this cancellation, and to get episodes to you earlier, X-Men: Standing Guard will be returning to its old bi-monthly schedule. Don't worry though, you won't be without content for long! Keep an eye out for specials that will explain Bishop and the X-Men universe! You may have also noticed the X-Men episodes have moved to Saturday. For a look at my new schedule, and to see when the Epilogue and other parts of the Episode come out, check my profile!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the episode. Just a little reminder to please leave a review. Unlike YouTube, there is no like/dislike button on Fanfiction. The only way for me to know my hard work is being appreciated is for you to leave a review. It doesn't even have to be anything big! Just "good" or "bad" will suffice! I just need to know you're reading. Also, please follow me on Twitter (link to that is on my profile) to keep up with Profile Updates, episode releases, delays, and exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming episodes! If you don't want to be bothered with Twitter (which I would prefer you are), at least hit the Follow and/or Fav button on this story to keep up with Episodic releases.

TO ALL NEW READERS: Welcome to X-Men: Standing Guard! You can get a description about the series on my Profile. If you haven't already, go read Season 1. I publish this series in an abnormal way. On Saturdays I will release the episode itself, then on Sundays, I release the "Epilogue", which is similar to a post-credits scene. You all know how important post-credits scenes are.

Enjoy the episode and welcome back!
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"In hindsight we accomplished what was necessary." Charles said. "With the rise of the Sentinel Army, drastic measures had to be taken. Enemies became allies. Allies became strangers. Help came from unlikely sources and many revealed their true potential in a battle against extinction. Unfortunately, battles can not be won without sacrifices. While the Sentinel Army was stopped, it was stopped at immeasurable personal cost. The loss of Nightcrawler, Squid, and Rogue's powers among many other lives has struck us hard. We have to rise above these pains, however, if we are to be ready for the next battle."

"We X-Men have always stood guard against the threats of this world, both mutant and human, but I fear that what is coming in the near future will distort our world beyond recognition, and the worse is yet to come."

Charles sighed and pressed the stop button. "End Entry Fourteen."
-

The forest was dark, leaves covering the ground. Rogue made entirely too much noise as she ran from her attacker. A second arrow flew past the girl and she gasped, stumbling slightly, and fell face first into a tree-stump. She scrambled up, but tripped again, falling on her back and looking at the archer in black and red approaching her. Rogue, without her signature white stripes, wasn't done yet. She kicked at the archer's legs, giving her enough time to stand up. The archer already had her bow trained back on Rogue. The red-head eyed the lethal, pointy tip of the arrow.

"Yield," the provocative voice ordered.

"Make me," Rogue growled.

The archer smirked beneath her mask and adjusted the arrow to remind Rogue of its proximity.

Rogue smiled and ducked low, the archer re-aiming and firing. Rogue jumped into the air, grabbed a tree-branch, and kicked at the archer. The hooded female caught her leg, however, and jerked her down, tossing her to the ground. Rogue kicked her bow out of her hand and attempted to flee again. The female archer fell on top of Rogue, pinning her legs down. Rogue swatted with her fists. The archer held those down, too.

"You refuse to yield."

"That ain't how I do things where I'm from." Rogue growled, still struggling fruitlessly.

"You never heed my advice."

"I don't need yo're stupid advice." Rogue growled again. "I'm fine on m' own!"

"And yet," the archer stood up, releasing Rogue. "You fail every time we battle."

Rogue narrowed her eyes. The girl laughed, tugging off her hood and mask, revealing a soft face with a pointy chin and deep brown eyes. Her hair, too, was brown and done in curls except for three black, straight stripes on either side of her head.

"It ain't funny."

"I have discovered the name by which I am going to call you."

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Well don't keep me in suspense."

"Introductions. I am McKenna Pryde, of the rank Kyoshi. I hereby officially take you as my apprentice and name you ye haizi."

"Yay what?" Rogue asked.

McKenna laughed. "Ye Haizi, it means "stubborn one"."

Rogue narrowed her eyes again, staring at McKenna. Slowly she smiled.

"So what do I call you?" she asked.

"That is something you will learn in time, ye haizi." McKenna replied, turning and walking off. "Return with me to the main fortress and drink."
-

Rogue descended the stairs of the Xavier Institute. She had tugged on a bathrobe and tied it tightly around her waist, covering as much of her body as she could. Ever since her loss of powers, Rogue had been more conservative in her dressing. She couldn't afford to drain someone. Rogue's slippers made soft noises on the stairs. She sighed and glanced at the clock on the oven in the kitchen as she entered. Four in the morning. It was like a routine now. So many nightmares, so many sleepless nights.

Rogue walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a pint of milk and pouring some in a cup. She grabbed a packet of instant cocoa and mixed it up in the drink, sipping the chocolate cold. Rogue turned to sit down at the table when she spotted a flickering light in the next room. It was obviously the television, but who would be up at this time of the night (or morning depending on your point of view)? Rogue walked in the room and glanced at the television. The channel kept switching. A nature documentary, a cop show, shopping network, the channels flicked by in a matter of seconds. The channel stopped on In the Heat of the Night.

"That is your favorite show." A voice came from the couch.

"How'd ya know I was up?" Rogue asked, walking around front and sitting next to Laura.

"I heard your slippers on the stairway." Laura replies, perfect grammar as usual. She doesn't move her eyes from the television. Rogue notes they, too, have dark spots under them.

"M' slippers gave me away?" Rogue asked.

"No, your opening the milk and chocolate did."

Rogue nods and takes a sip of her drink.

"What are you doin' up?"

"I…" Laura seems hesitant, something Rogue has only seen once before: Laura's first undercover mission, back when they worked with the Sentinel Project and her name was X-23.* "I, too, could not sleep."

"Dreams?" Rogue asked.

Now Laura looks at her. "How did you know this fact?"

"I guessed." Rogue admitted. "What are the dreams about?"

Laura hesitated. "What of your dreams?" she retorted.

"So stalemate it is, then." Rogue replied, turning to the television and watching as Sherriff Gillespie and Mr. Tibbs fought it out.

Laura flips the channels again as the show goes to commercial break. The next channel is a news one and Rogue lays a hand on Laura's sleeve, indicating she stop. Laura turns up the volume so they can hear it.

"…six month anniversary of the Days of Future Past event. Yes, it's hard to believe, but six months ago mutants traveled through time to save President Robert Kelly from assassination by mutant terrorist Erik Lenscherr, aka Magneto."

"Once a terrorist, always a terrorist." Rogue muttered.

"While the initial aftershock of the event shattered mutant-human relations and battles between mutants and Sentinels broke out all over the nation, a peace treaty was ratified by President Kelly and Charles Xavier of the Xavier Institute. This treaty brought fighting on a major scale to a halt as well as many anti-mutant legislation in Congress. America's move has inspired many countries around the world, although Russia, Iran, and North Korea are still proceeding with their Sentinel Programs despite global outrage."

All of the Sentinels had been destroyed during that fateful night. Not a single one remained. As far as S.H.I.E.L.D. could tell, Laura had been successful at wiping the AI and blueprints from Trask Industries. Rumor had gone around that President Kelly had visited Trask Industries just two days before Larry Trask's tragic car crash that killed his entire family, but that was never proved.

"Startling news broke earlier this week that Worthington Labs was developing a "cure to mutants". While Worthington Labs founder and CEO Warren Worthington II declined to comment, sources close to the Labs state that Worthington is mere weeks away from developing the cure. The Senate Mutant-Affairs committee is expected to call Mr. Worthington in front of them later this week to discuss breaches in the mutant-human peace treaty. S.H.I.E.L.D. will not be in attendance."

"They're still cleanin' up their ranks." Rogue informed Laura. "So many damn HYDRA agents…"

"It is startling how deeply S.H.I.E.L.D. was infiltrated." Laura replied. "I am surprised the World Committee did not disband them."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is too valuable." Rogue replied. "'sides, Alexander Pierce was HYDRA, so the Committee ain't got rights to do any disbandin'."
-

Amara crept down the stairs quietly, giggling, Kitty right behind her. The two girls crept across the living room to where Laura and Rogue were asleep, Laura's head resting gently on Rogue's shoulder. Amara giggled and moved Laura's hand into the open, spraying whipped cream onto it. The two girls giggled quietly as Laura shifted in her sleep. Kitty grinned and handed the feather duster to Amara. The two girls stood up and backed away behind the couch, standing behind it. Amara held the feather close to Laura's face and tickled it against her nose. Laura scrunched her nose and kept sleeping. Amara giggled and tickled Laura's nose again. Laura planted the whipped cream in her face. The moment it came in contact with her face, she sat straight up, looking around for an attacker. Kitty and Amara laughed outright and darted down the hall.

"Kitty! Amara!" Laura roared. She chased off after the girls who screamed hysterically.

All of the noise had awoken Rogue. The red-head checked her hands for whipped cream before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She stood up and readjusted the bathrobe, brushing her red hair behind her shoulders, and walking into the kitchen.

Rogue had grown out her hair over the summer. It now hung down near her elbows, curling slightly at the ends. She had kept up the white streaks in her hair, using the special way in which McKenna had dyed it to dye it again. She still looked like the same old Rogue, except much more tired.

"Rogue!" Cassidy exclaimed. "Good morning!"

Rogue smiled and sat down, exhausted. Cassidy placed a plate of pancakes down in front of her and Rogue bit into them.

"Where are Kitty, Amara, and Laura? I could have sworn they were up."

"Oh… they're out getting' their mornin' exercise." Rogue replied deviously. Something shattered in the next room and Cassidy laughed.

Rogue smiled.

"Good morning, everyone." Erik greeted, walking into the kitchen. Ever since the Days of Future Past incident, Erik and the other mutants had returned with him to the Xavier Institute. Erik was currently working on setting up a mutant school in Genosha, a subsidiary of the Xavier Institute, but it was taking some time. Many of the older, and younger, students who had families and were mostly in their powers, had returned home for the first part of the school-year until the secondary academy opened. It was much easier to be a mutant now with the peace treaty in effect. Not everyone followed it, but most people had just been looking for a side to take.

"No muffins, Erik." Rogue stated through a mouth full of food. "I hate English food."

"You just have no taste." Erik replied, grabbing three muffins and putting them on his plate.

"Oh, I got taste," Rogue replied, pointing her fork at him. "Yo're the one who says everything funny and eats funny food…"

"Why thank you, Rogue, I speak funny too." Charles said, rolling into the room.

"Sorry, Prof." Rogue mumbled.

Charles smiled and gestured for Erik to grab him a muffin as well. "Rogue, the Principal at the local high-school wishes to speak with you…again."

"What'd Laura do this time?" Rogue asked.

"Her boyfriend claims she dislocated his shoulder when he tried to kiss her."

Laura walked in the room at this moment, breathing deeply with a big grin on her face.

"Is that true, X?" Rogue asked. She still referred to the clone in passing as "X".

"Is what true?"

"Did you dislocate ya boyfriend's shoulder when 'e tried t' kiss ya?"

"First, and foremost," Laura said, heaping scrambled eggs onto her plate. "He is not my boyfriend. I do not have one. To answer your question, I did dislocate his shoulder. He was getting too…aggressive."

"Good girl." Rogue replied, taking a bite out of her pancakes.

"Rogue!" Charles exclaimed. "You can't condone that type of behavior!"

"Why the hell not?" Rogue demanded. "She's got t' learn t' stand up for herself!"

"What'd she do now?" Jubilee asked, walking into the kitchen with messy, spiky hair and a loose pair of pajamas on.

"Dislocated some guy's shoulder." Charles replied.

"Good girl." Jubilee grinned, rubbing Laura's hair. Laura laughed and leaned her head into it, growling like an animal. Jubilee burst out laughing.

"See?" Rogue asked, gesturing at Jubilee.

"Jubilee is not the best person to be taking advice from." Charles sighed. "Besides, you are her official guardian now, you have to act like one."

Rogue sighed and set her fork down, watching as Laura grabbed a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table.

"Laura, I do agree with Charles on this one."

"That is a surprise." Laura noted, taking a sip from her drink.

"Ya have t' be careful the way you react. Kissin' doesn't deserve a dislocated shoulder. Ask, try t' get away, then if he still ain't got the picture, kick 'is ass an' I'll be fine with it."

Laura sighed. "I still do not understand how all of the boys at school do not get the point that I am not interested in…"going out"."

"Boobs." Rogue responded. "Trumps everything else."

Jubilee laughed and pointed her fork at Rogue with a mouth full of food. "She's got a point."

Rogue smiled.

"So, Jubes, where's Roberto?" Rogue asked. "All tuckered out from a night of…refreshing activity?"

"Don't be gross, Rogue." Cassidy said, sticking out her tongue. She was still too young to be appreciative of romance.

"I wish…" Jubilee muttered, casting a nasty glance at Rahne as the Scot entered the kitchen.

Rogue smirked, watching with interested eyes, leaning into her breakfast. She grabbed Laura's glass and took a deep drink out of it, setting it back down.

"Did you guys see the news report this morning?" Amara asked, changing the subject.

"Last night." Rogue corrected. "If any of y'all stayed up for the eleven news, you'd've seen it."

"I saw it." Erik started. "You know that President Kelly, who shouldn't even be in office, provided military funding to Worthington? No doubt trying to get that blasted cure of his off the ground."

"We have no proof, Erik." Charles said.

"Proof my ass. I ought to go up there and show them what they're trying to cure."

"Which would only encourage them." Charles pointed out.

"Please—" Rogue said. "I've got a headache, and we've already got enough to deal with. I have a feeling it's gonna be a long, chaotic next few months."
-

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X-Men: Standing Guard
Season 2, Episode One
"In Need of an Angel"
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Local Highschool
October 5, 11:09 EST
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"Ms. Marie, you signed up as Laura's official guardian, correct?"

"That's right."

"Well perhaps you can shed insight into what's going on in her mind. Has she had a history of abuse? Perhaps by a father figure?"

In her head, Rogue thought of Wolverine, but she pushed it out. That man was not Laura's father.

"No, her father was never in the picture." Rogue replied.

The school therapist rested her chin on her hands and looked at the Belle.

The two were in the school therapist's office. It was late Thursday morning and Laura was in class with Amara. Amara had stared high-school that year and Rogue had placed Laura's age at that of Amara's. She knew the two were close friends, so she figured they could bond with classes together; that and Amara could help Laura fit in without raising too many eyebrows.

Rogue was dressed in a nice, albeit seductively tight, white tank-top and knee-long shorts, again seductively tight. She had pulled her red hair back into a ponytail, the white stripes running straight down the middle. She was slouched in her chair and obviously found the meeting boring and useless.

The therapist had short hair, almost to her skull, and was wearing dark blue eyeshadow and lipstick. She was wearing a loose dark blue top. She seemed very much in control and Rogue hated not being able to get a read off of people's emotions, something she found increasingly creepy about therapists, psychiatrists, and the whole damn lot.

Her desk was a simple one, neatly organized like the rest of her office. Her computer homescreen was one of her entire family, husband and two daughters, in a park. She had several medals and diplomas hanging on her wall, her bookshelves were stocked, a stack of papers on her desk showed she actually worked, and the soothing lighting in the room seemed to radiate an air of calm that only agitated Rogue, making her almost itch.

The therapist sighed after studying Rogue for some time and sat up. "Ms. Marie, tell me, do you find these meetings interesting or concerning?"

"I find Laura's trend of beatin' up anyone who's got a pair to ask 'er out concernin', yeah." Rogue replied. "I spoke to her about it. She promised to do better."

"You said that the second to last time she was here." The therapist pointed out.

"And we went a whole two weeks without an incident." Rogue pointed out.

"Here's the simple facts:" the therapist said, pulling out a file and placing it in front of Rogue. The Belle didn't need to open it. She knew what was inside. She'd read it multiple times. "Laura claims the boys she assaults are…sexually aggressive towards her."

"Can ya blame 'em?" Rogue asked.

The therapist sighed and continued. "Because of this fact, the school can not suspend her. However, several of the boy's mothers are threatening to file a lawsuit against the school. We have to show Laura is turning a new leaf. Quickly."

"Well since you don't think my ways are workin', whadya suggest we do?" Rogue asked, folding her arms over her chest.

The therapist sighed again, picking up her pen and twirling it. She was getting agitated. Rogue raised an eyebrow, watching the pen.

"I believe that Laura has…problems she needs to work through."

"Wait," Rogue interrupted, sitting up straight and holding up her hands. "Are you sayin' Laura needs a therapist?"

"I believe your attendance would help."

Rogue just stared at her for a moment before falling back into her chair and heaving out a sigh so powerful it blew papers off of the therapist's desk.

"This is a load of bullshi—"

"Language, Ms. Marie."

Rogue tilted her head. "Whatcha gonna do? Ground meh?"

The therapist twirled the pen faster.

"Any problems Laura has, she's workin' through 'em. She's a unique girl with unique talents and a past that…well, it ain't quite normal." Rogue admitted. "It's just gonna take some time."

"Time that may pass faster if she meets with a professional."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "I ain't paying some moron with a piece of paper hundreds, thousands of dollars for Laura to lay on a couch and "talk about her feelin's." Hell, if ya knew Laura, you'd know that's the exact opposite of the person she is."

"A problem she needs to work past in a safe and secure environment."

Rogue pinched the bridge of her nose. "What's it gonna take this time?"

"Ms. Marie, I'm going to lay two options before you. You leave here with one of them." The therapist said, pushing the tip of her pin into the desk. "Option One: Both you and Laura seek therapy. If money is a concern, the school will pay for a percentage of it."

"Money ain't an issue." Rogue had practically unlimited funds from S.H.I.E.L.D. Plus she had her own…special ways of getting cash.

"Well, we may put that theory to the test. If you decline therapy, the school will sue you for damage. Since Laura is only fourteen, you will be handed the lawsuit."

Rogue sat and thought. She could jab the pen in the woman's neck, but that'd lead to murder charges and that was a headache…She weighed her options for a moment.

"Can I find my own therapist?" she asked.

The school therapist seemed very relieved, setting the pen down on the desk. "Yes, as long as you run them by me first and I can assure that they're a licensed professional."

"Alright, I'll send ya the therapist's number by Wednesday." Rogue stood up.

"Ms. Marie—" the therapist said.

Rogue took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and turned around. She smiled in a "go on" way.

"Perhaps you can talk to Laura for more than several minutes tonight after school. See if she's being bullied? Maybe she's having bad dreams?"

An arrow impaled itself a foot from Rogue's head, the shaft vibrating in the tree. Rogue was cornered, no where to go.

Rogue flinched slightly in the present day, blinking to shake it off. She smiled and nodded.
-

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Xavier Institute
October 5, 17:09 EST
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A knock came on Laura's door.

"Come in!" Amara shouted.

Rogue opened the door and walked into the two-faced room. On one side was Laura's pristine, clean, and perfectly empty sleeping area. On the other side, Amara's bed was messy, her floor littered with junk, posters covered the wall, and a lava lamp (ironically) sat on her nightstand. Amara glanced up as Rogue entered.

"Oh, hi, Rogue!" she exclaimed.

"What are y'all doin'?" Rogue asked.

"Just homework." Amara replied. "Laura doesn't seem to grasp "why we need Algebra". Come to think of it, neither do I."

"Trust me, it's important." Rogue replied with a smile. "Amara, do you mind if I talk to Laura?"

The Nova Roman had dyed her hair over the summer. It was now blonde, long and straight. Her brown skin was starting to pale from Danger Room sessions. She'd been taking Laura to the city for "fashion sprees" and the clone as well as the fire-user had been increasingly "fashionable". Laura had attempted to get an orange highlight in her hair, but her body had rejected it.

"Yeah, no, sure. Go right ahead." Amara replied, turning back to her homework. She closed a few tabs on her laptop as Rogue approached.

"Alone, perhaps?" Rogue asked.

"Oh." Amara nodded. She locked her laptop. "Sure."

Amara left the room and Rogue pulled up her chair, turning it backwards and sitting in it. The Belle was wearing a green scoop-neck tee and skinny jeans. She had a bead necklace around her neck, her hair hanging loose behind her.

"What's she lookin' at?" Rogue asked.

"I promised her I would not give away that information." Laura replied, not removing her eyes from her homework.

"Fair 'nough." Rogue replied. She stared at the back of the clone's head for a minute before she started again. "Laura, the school said we either have therapy or they'll sue."

"Can you not simply bribe them again? Or whatever it is you did to cause these problems to go away before?"

"It ain't that simply. They've reached the breakin' point." Rogue replied. She looked at Laura. "'sides," she added, looking down. "Schoo's right. We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about." Laura replied, scribbling something on her paper.

"Laura," Rogue said gently. "Look at me."

Laura straightened up, placed down the pencil, and turned around to face Rogue.

"You still ain't sleepin'." Rogue sighed.

"It is merely a "phase"." Laura replied. "It will pass."

"Is it dreams?" Rogue asked.

Laura remained silent.

Rogue nodded once. "What're they about?"

Laura turned back around. "You first."

"What is yo'r problem?" Rogue demanded, grabbing the clone's arm with her gloved hand and twisting her back to face the Belle. "We haven't spoken since you started school! Is somethin' goin' on?"

"No." Laura replied.

"Laura…"

"Nothing is going on at school."

"Well then what the hell is it?" Rogue demanded.

Laura looked at her feet and sighed. "I do not need to talk, this is something I must take care of on my own." She looked up at Rogue. "I believe you of all people understand that?"

Rogue bit her lip and nodded. "But if anything, and I mean anything, bothers you or you want to talk, you drop by anytime."

Laura nodded.
-

"We're continuing coverage of the rumor that Worthington Labs is currently developing a cure to the mutant X-gene. To discuss this in full and see if it's even possible, we've brought in mutant scientist, as well as former President of the United States and current head of the Mutant-Human relations department Hank McCoy. Mr. McCoy, nice to have you on the show."

"Thank you,"

"Mr. McCoy, before we begin discussing ramifications and legal issues of this "cure", is it even possible to develop such a drug? How would that work? Or is this all a publicity stunt?"

"Well, mutants derive their powers from the X-gene. So far, it is impossible to "cure" genes that carry diseases, not that mutations are a disease, so no, it is not possible to "cure" mutants. If it was, Mr. Worthington could apply the same technique to cancer, AIDS, and theoretically every disease that has ever plagued man-kind."

"So it's all a publicity stunt?"

"I'm not going to say that," Hank smiled. "But it is not possible to cure mutants. Mutants don't need to be cured, however. They are just as "normal" as normal people. Trying to state that mutants are not normal is like stating that someone isn't normal because of their skin color or hair color."

"Thank you, Mr. McCoy."

"This is a load of bullshit." Erik said, practically slamming his mug down on the table.

"At least Hank disproved Worthington's ruse about being able to "cure" mutants." Charles said.

Erik looked at Charles.

"What?"

"What if it is possible?" Erik asked. "What if Worthington has found a way…even theoretically? Charles, he could be arming Kelly's men with this—this cure right now."

"Erik, not everyone is sinister***. If Worthington had this cure, if it even exists, he would have made an official announcement and not hidden it away."

"Unless he's working with Kelly."

"Oh!" Charles exclaimed.

"Come on, Charles! Kelly has provided military funding to Worthington Labs, after the peace treaty was signed! He and Worthington's family are old friends. It would only make sense they were in bed together."

Charles sighed. "Well then what? Should we arrange a meeting with Worthington?"

"No, he'll refuse us or try and spin some bullshit web. We need to act."

"Erik," Charles said. "Listen to me very carefully. Acting against Worthington and Kelly will not protect mutants. It will only endanger them. Kelly will cite you breaking the peace treaty, the Sentinels will return, and this time we won't be able to travel back and fix it. We were given a second chance to bring peace between our species, a chance that came at great sacrifice. Let us honor that sacrifice."

"Kelly already broke the treaty." Erik growled.

"You have no proof."

"I don't need proof."

"To stand before the world and announce mutant subjugation, yes, you need proof. People won't take you at your word, especially not anymore. They're not too happy that a man who killed dozens of people is free to roam." Charles set his cup on the table and looked at Erik. "Neither am I."

"Oh, come on, Charles!" Erik exclaimed. "I can't believe you're taking their side! I'm your friend!"

"The man I knew and loved would never have killed innocent people."

"They were far from innocent." Erik growled lowly.

"Erik!"

The Master of Magnetism stood up and headed for the kitchen door.

"Erik! Your own daughter sacrificed herself to give us a second chance! God only knows what happened to her children, and Kurt…"

"I know very well our losses, Charles."

"There's something I haven't told you." Charles said. "I pulled it from Kitty's mind during one of her sessions."

Erik turned and folded his arms. "What?"

Charles ran his finger over the handle on his coffee mug. "After the initial Sentinel attack, Wanda and Lorna met in the tunnels beneath Genosha. Wanda gave her word that if the Sentinel threat was ever ended and mutants given another chance, that she would strive to create peace, equality, and tranquility between our two races. She swore to do it without the need of force. She thought she knew what it felt like to be hunted before, and thus felt justified in joining your genocidal crusade. She learned better the hard way. They all did."

Erik looked at him in disgust. "I can't believe you would try and use my own children against me! You have your dream, that is fine, Charles, but I can't believe you would have me believe that my Wanda, my sweet, ill-tempered Wanda, would have fallen for your unachievable dream."

"Erik, I'm not—"

"Save it, Charles." Erik continued for the kitchen door.

"Erik, if you walk out that front door right now," Charles took a deep, shaky breath. "You will never come back inside."

Erik stared at him, then exited the door. Charles sighed, sat down, and threw Erik's glass against the wall, shattering it.
-

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Worthington Labs
October 6, 09:09 EST
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Worthington Labs was situated in downtown New York City. It was a large skyscraper, made of tan steel and large pieces of glass. The lobby was made of the same tan and red bricks. There was a large, rotating glass door at the entrance and metal detectors after that. The front desk was occupied by a clerk and two armed guards. Elevators stood behind them. There was a waiting room on either side, both full of people waiting to talk to Worthington about his cure. Many were nationals, many were domestic.

The man who walked through the front door was wearing a black trench-coat and hat pulled low over his wrinkled face. He bypassed the metal detectors without a problem. He approached the clerk's desk. Pens and paperclips began to vibrate. She glanced at them as they rattled more and more the closer Erik got.

"Mutant!" she whispered.

The two guards moved to step in front of Erik, but he used the metal weapons on their belts to toss them aside. He shoved the clerk's desk across the room, she stood up and squealed. Erik wrenched open the doors to the elevator and dropped the elevator itself to the basement, levitating himself up the elevator shaft.

The clerk picked up the phone and dialed four numbers.

"Get me S.H.I.E.L.D.! There's a mutant at Worthington Labs and he's heading towards the upper levels!"
-

"Worthington! If this cure is real, I'm pulling my investments from the company!"

"Hell! I'll give you every cent I got!"

"McCoy said it is not even possible!" A Frenchman exclaimed. "How can you prove zis?"

Worthington held up his arms and gestured for everyone to be quiet.

"What leaves my mouth does not leave this room, is that understood?" Worthington asked, standing up. "If it does, I'll sue each and every one of you until I find out who spoke and then you'll wish you'd never been born. Are we clear?"

Everyone nodded.

"Dad…?" Warren asked from behind his father.

The younger Worthington, Warren Worthington III, was in his early twenties. He was standing in a corner of the boardroom, his short blonde hair askew and his blue eyes bored. He fiddled with his phone and the large overcoat on his back. He kept scratching between his shoulder blades. His father had insisted he attend this board meeting to "learn the ropes". Warren had obliged. Now he was concerned about what his father was about to say. There was dead silence in the board room. It was so quiet, everyone could hear the secretary and her friend chatting two rooms away, a sound almost silenced by the sheer volume of the water fountain.

"We are working on a cure."

Pandemonium broke out.

"Word wasn't supposed to get out yet! It was supposed to remain a secret until we were ready! We're weeks away from testing!"

"How did you acquire the funding?"

"President Kelly gave us military funding to research a non-lethal way to take down mutants, but I saw it as an opportunity to help the mutants! They don't realize that they're infected, much like the psychiatric patient who doesn't realize that they're mentally ill."

"That is a load of bullshit!" Warren exclaimed, stepping up next to his father. "Mutants aren't infected people! They're just people!"

"Warren! Hush!"

Arguments continued to rage in the boardroom until something smashed in the next room. The secretary screamed and her desk crashed through the wall. A man in a trench-coat entered the room behind, levitating off of the ground.

"A mutant!" Someone exclaimed.

Warren ran forward to attack the intruder, but Erik shoved him to the side with one hand, slamming his back against the wall. Warren cried out in pain.

"What the hell is this?" Worthington demanded, slamming his fist on the table.

Erik took off his hat and smiled at the (other) old man.

"Magneto!"

Erik smiled again. "Did you really think you could take down mutants without a fight, Mr. Worthington?"

"I don't know what you think, but there's no proof that we're working on a cure. Why don't you go home?" Worthington demanded.

Warren had stood back up, rubbing that spot between his back, still wincing.

"I don't need proof, Mr. Worthington." Erik said. "Six months ago, my race was almost wiped out by Sentinels. I will not let that happen again."

"Screw you!" One man shouted. "What right do you have, barging in here? What do you even want?"

"To send a message." Erik replied.

"Oh, you're sending a message alright!" The man shouted. "Mutants can't be trusted!"

"How would you feel if they were trying to turn you into them?" the Frenchman demanded. He turned to Magneto. "No offense."

"None taken." Erik smiled. "If only more thought like you, Mr….?"

"Mr. Falk." The Frenchman said. "Granted, I don't support your barging in here military-like."

"Well, Mr. Falk. I'll give you the opportunity to leave. I thank you for your support."

"Why would I leave?" Falk demanded.

A buzzing came from outside. A S.H.I.E.L.D. Hellier Jet descended in front of the Worthington Labs boardroom.

"Erik Lenscherr!" the PA system screamed. "Put your hands in the air or we will open fire!"

"Five seconds, Mr. Falk."

Falk decided he preferred to live, and darted from the room. Erik raised his hands in the air.

"Stand by, we're sending agents to arrest you. Our threat remains."

Magneto grinned and flicked his hand. The jet tilted and groaned towards the building. The board members backed up against the wall.

"Magneto! Stop!" Warren shouted.

The jet didn't open fire because at its current angle, its bullets would hit three stories down.

Erik beckoned with his wrist and the jet crashed into the building, spraying glass and steel at the board members. They darted for the door. Worthington tripped and looked up at the spinning blades of the jet, heading straight for him. Warren dropped his coat off of his shoulders, grabbed his father, and jumped out of the window, flexing his wings and flying off into the distance.

S.H.I.E.L.D. agents reached the floor a minute later to find Magneto gone.
-

S.H.I.E.L.D. teams were already positioned to block any one from entering the street where Worthington Labs stood. S.H.I.E.L.D. vans blocking the entrances. Crowds were gathering at the end of the streets and at the windows of the shops they were locked in, craning to get a view of the Hellier Jet impaled in the glass and steel building.

Three people pushed through a side entrance and headed towards the figure in a trench-coat staring up at the jet.

"Director Fury," Charles greeted.

"Charles," Fury replied, not moving his eye from the Hellier Jet. "I thought you said you had your boy on a leash."

Charles sighed. "I'm afraid this time I could not convince Erik to stop."

"This is the sixth time in as many months that he's gone on a rampage like this. This time, he killed three people. President Kelly just reactivated the Sentinel Program."

"What?" Kitty demanded from behind Xavier. "We didn't do anything!"

"Erik did." Fury pointed out. "He is a member of the X-Men, the official peace-keepers between humanity and mutant-kind, which means that you broke the treaty."

"That's bullshit!" Lorna exclaimed. "He broke it first! He was providing military funding to Worthington to research his cure!"

"That being true, we have no proof and can get none. Those conversations were never recorded." Fury said.

"Welcome back, Nixon." Lorna muttered.

"As part of the international treaty, the rest of the nations that signed it still have to respect mutant kind. As part of International Law, I can order Kelly to hand over anything about the Sentinels or this cure to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"The cure doesn't exist." Kitty said. "Hank said it's impossible."

"Three years ago, most of the people here would have said it was impossible for a boy to shoot lasers from his eyes, a man to read minds…" Fury glanced back at the jet. "Or one to move a plane with a flick of his wrist."

"What are you saying, Director Fury?" Charles asked, concerned, leaning forward in his chair.

"The cure exists." Fury said. "Or at least, it almost does."

This shocked the mutants.

"Well, take it away!" Lorna demanded.

"We can't. Once again, we don't have proof and we can't just barge in and steal it. Besides…" Fury glanced back up at the jet, currently being disassembled and pulled piece-by-piece out of the building. "It could be useful to let them finish it."

"What?"

"This is a huge breakthrough. Worthington's going to put a monopoly on the cure and it'll be years before anyone else develops it. We limit the origin of the cure, we limit its exposure. Once it's finished, we'll take the cure and make a…" Fury smiled. "A cure."

"Besides," he added, watching as the wing was carefully lowered to the ground. "Imagine the military uses. People like Erik could be de-powered."

Charles stared at Fury. "Director!"

"No, he does have a point." Lorna interrupted. "Dear old dad seems to have anger management issues. De-powering him would be extremely beneficial to both sides."

"You would crush him!" Charles exclaimed.

"Listen to your girl, Charles. She has a point."

Charles sighed and sat back.

"I'll call Kelly." Fury said. He started to walk off, phone in hand, but turned and smiled. "By the way, smart thinking putting your new student on Worthington."

"New student?" Charles asked.

"Yeah, the boy with the wings."

The three mutants glanced at each other.

"Oh," Fury said. "Well I assumed he was your student."

"Where is he?" Charles asked.

"Don't know. We're trying to find him, but we don't even have facial ID to run. We're working on it. Maybe you could give it a shot."

"Yes, let's find this boy before his image gets plastered all over the news." Charles agreed.

Fury laughed and walked off.

"It might be a little late for that, Professor." Kitty said, gesturing at the news van replaying a clip of Warren's rescue of his father.

"This angelic figure saved Warren Worthington II from his boardroom after mutant terrorist Magneto, otherwise known as Erik Lenscherr, pulled a S.H.I.E.L.D. Hellier Jet into Worthington Labs this morning. No news on where this mutant has gone…"
-

-
Worthington Estate
Outside New York City
October 6, 9:14 EST
-

"…nor where he has taken Mr. Worthington."

Warren blew open the large French doors to his father's study and set him down gently, folding his wings up behind him. His father stumbled away and stared at his son in amazement.

"W-Warren?" he asked.

Warren spread his arms and wings wide, showing them off to his father.

"You-you're a mutant?"

"Yeah, I am." Warren replied angrily. "And I'm not too happy about you trying to cure me."

"Warren, you're sick." His father tried to say calmly.

"Sick?" Warren laughed. "I'm not sick! I feel better than I ever have! Dad, I can fly! How many people have wanted to fly? And I actually get to!"

"We have airplanes for that." His father said dryly.

Warren rolled his eyes. "No, I mean really fly! Be able to feel the wind in your face, the clouds on your skin…" he sighed. "It's beautiful dad, and I wish you could experience it."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Worthington snapped. "Son, this mutation is bad for your health. Now when have I ever lied to you for a reason other than your own protection?"

Warren stared at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Worthington sighed. "Son, promise me you will stay here until the cure is done."

"No."

"You have to!"

"Like hell I do!"

"Son, listen to your father!"

"No!"

Both men were red in the face with anger right now. This was as close as they had come in some time to a true conversation. Neither wanted to do what the other said. They were both hell-bent on their own way.

"Listen, President Kelly has reactivated the Sentinel Project. You're going to be in danger out there."

"How the hell do you know that?" Warren demanded.

"Because it was our plan."

Warren stared at his father with a questioning rage. Suddenly, everything came together.

"You leaked news of the cure to agitate Magneto." Warren breathed. "You knew he would come after you, breaking the treaty and allowing Kelly to reactivate the Sentinels."

"And it worked." Worthington replied. "A small sacrifice for a much greater cause."

"A small sacrifice?" Warren demanded. "He pulled a fucking jet into your office! Have you lost your damn mind? I'm not going to let you do this! You are not going to hurt us!"

"Us?" Worthington asked.

Warren swallowed hard, standing up straight.

"Who are you talking about, son?"

"That's none of your damn business!" Warren hissed.

"Who're you dating now? Aly, Alexa, something with an "A"…"

"You come near me or Alison." Warren growled. "and you'll wish I'd let you fall out of that window."

Worthington nodded slowly and pulled out his cellphone.

"What are you doing?" Warren demanded.

"Calling Nick Fury." His father returned.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?!" Warren demanded.

"Yes, I'm going to inform them about you and your girlfriend. See if we can't get you detained for your own safety until the cure is done."

"You tell them about Alison's identity, and I'll go public." Warren warned. "It wouldn't look too good for the man who's developing a cure to mutants to have a mutant for a son, now would it?"

Worthington looked at Warren carefully, studying.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. Offices." The voice came over the line.

"Get me Director Fury. This is Warren Worthington II. I have news about the mutant who saved my life earlier and his gir—" Worthington glanced at Warren and sighed. "And his identity."

Warren scowled, shook his head, and flew out of the window back towards the city.

"I'm sorry, sir." The voice came back. "Director Fury is unavailable. Shall I take a message?"

"No," Worthington responded, watching his son fly off. "I'll wait."
-

-
Xavier Institute
October 6, 10:09 EST
-

Cerebro was humming loudly, its computer systems searching every face on the planet to find Warren Worthington. So far, the super-computer had had no luck. Wherever Worthington was, it wasn't somewhere with a camera. Charles sighed and put his head in his hands. "I suppose it's just a matter of time…"

"What's up?" Amara asked, walking down the long, narrow bridge of Cerebro, munching on a granola bar.

"We're trying to find Mr. Worthington."

"The dick wad who's trying to "cure" mutants?" Amara asked. "Yeah, lemme know when you find him. I'd like to show him a "cure" alright…"

"Amara, Erik already tried that tactic this morning. Worthington is still missing."

"Well did you try and find his son, Warren numero three?"

"Yes, but he, too, is missing." Charles replied.

"Well what about Dazzler?"

"Who?" Charles asked.

"Mutant singer we tried to recruit back in March. Name's Alison Blair."

"Well why would we ask her where Warren is?" Storm asked.

"Uhh…'cause she's dating him? Duh!" Amara stated it like it was a well-known fact. Storm glanced at Charles cluelessly. Amara sighed. "Does anyone watch TMZ?"
-

-
Gardendale Restaurant
New York City
October 6, 11:34 EST
-

It was lunchtime in downtown New York City. Even at such an upscale restaurant as this one, it was crowded. The rich, dark red carpet on the floor was illuminated by sunlight streaming in through the tall windows. Shadows of tables and people flickered across the floor. Each table was surrounded on three sides by a booth. The tables were made of dark cherry wood and the frames of the booths were made of the same wood; the plush cushions were covered in a soft, lighter red cloth with gold fleur d' leurs spotted along the fabric.

Alison Blair was in a booth near the door. She was dressed in loose apparel. She wore long pants despite the heat of the day, and a sleeveless white top, with a very low and sharp "V". She had some golden bracelets on her arms and large golden earrings hanging from each ear. She wore bright blue eye-shadow that heightened the blue in her eyes. Her long blonde hair hung down around her shoulders in curls. She was sitting patiently at her booth, waiting. She sighed.

A girl noticed her and walked over. The girl was probably in her early years of high-school. She had long, straight blonde hair and soft, brown eyes. She was wearing dark red skinny jeans and a black, magma-themed tee underneath a motorcycle jacket matching the color of her pants. Behind her was a bald man in a wheelchair. He was wearing dark pants, a green sweater, and a tan sports jacket. Alison thought the girl looked familiar, but couldn't place her.

The girl walked over to her booth.

"Hi!"

"Sorry," Alison smiled. "I'm not signing autographs."

This wasn't what the girl was expecting. This was curious.

"Oh, no," the girl replied. "I don't want an autograph…at least not right now. Do you not remember me?"

"No," Alison replied. Rule number one: never encourage fans.

"I came to you back in March to talk to you about the—" the girl looked around and leaned in, whispering. "The Xavier Institute."

Alison's eyes widened. Now she recognized the girl!

"Oh! Yeah! What was your name again…um…Kitty?"

The girl looked slightly upset. "Amara." She smiled. "But it's not big deal. I mean, it's just a name, right?" she laughed nervously.

"So why are you here?" Alison asked. "Not trying to recruit me again? I'm simply not ready—"

"Oh, no no no." Amara replied. "We were actually hoping you could help us find your boyfriend…Warren?"

Alison blinked. "Oh, are you looking to recruit him, too? I can save you the time and tell you he isn't interested."

"No, we—"

"Excuse me," the bald man interrupted. "My name is Professor Charles Xavier—"

"Head of the Institute, I assume?"

"Yes, what did you mean by…recruit Warren?"

"Well that's why you're here, isn't it? Because he's…you know…"

Charles glanced at Amara.

"You didn't know." Alison whispered, leaning back. "Crap. Promise you won't tell him I told you."

Before either could inquire what she meant, Warren walked in the front door of the restaurant, slightly out of breath and his coat rustled. He spotted Alison and walked over.

"Hey," he gasped out, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Come on, babe, we gotta go."

"What?" Alison asked, standing up and placing his hands in hers. "What's going on, Warren?"

Warren glanced at Charles and Amara. "Who are they?"

"They're here for you." Alison replied.

"Are they S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Warren asked, alarmed.

"What? No!" Alison replied.

"Mr. Worthington, I think you will wish to take this conversation to a more…private area."

Warren looked at them suspiciously, then at Alison, who gave him a reassuring squeeze of her hands, and nodded. "Alright…" he said warily.
-

Warren leaned against the wall. "Alright, who are you?"

"Warren!" Alison chastised.

"I'm not in the mood for any of my father's surprises or speeches, so if that's why you're here…"

"No offense," Amara said. "But do we look like people your father would hire? A teen and an old man in a wheelchair?"

"Eh,"

"We're from the Xavier Insitute, Mr. Worthington—" Charles started, but Warren cut him off.

"You call me Warren. Mr. Worthington is my father."

"Very well, Warren, as I said, my name is Professor Charles Xavier. I'm from the Xavier Institute. It's a school…for mutants."

Warren stood up and let his arms hang loose. "How did you know I'm a mutant?"

Charles glanced at Alison out of the corner of his eye. "I have a machine, Cerebro, that detects mutants around the world so that we can track them down and help them."

"Help?" Warren asked. "How?"

"By offering you a chance to come to the Institute." Charles replied. "It's a safe facility in Weschester, New York. It's completely secluded from the world and mutant-exclusive. For those who are of a younger age here, such as Ms. Aquilla," Amara waved. "It functions as a school. For people more of the age of you and your girlfriend, it acts as a home and hideaway, to keep you safe from the world."

"They offered me to go back in March, before we met." Alison said, hooking her arm into Warren's and looking at him. "I didn't go, but maybe you should consider?"

"All I ask, Warren, is a simple tour of our facilities if you're interested. If you don't want to join, that is fine. If you ever change your mind, our doors are always open."

Warren glanced at Alison, who smiled.

'God,' Amara thought. 'She's laying on the charm thick!'

Warren sighed. "Alright. Just a tour. And if you are S.H.I.E.L.D…."

"Don't worry, Warren, you can trust us." Charles replied.
-

-
Xavier Institute
October 7, 10:40 EST
-

"These are our lower levels," Xavier said, rolling down the clean, metal hallways. Blue lights reflected off of the baby-blue seamless steel. Xavier, accompanied by Amara, was leading both Alison and Warren on a tour of the Xavier Institutes. The tour of the outside and inside had been rather brief. Most of the Xavier Institute's property (some dozen acres or so), was open fields with benches, trees, a pond here and there, and other aesthetic items. The backyard contained the basketball court, tennis court, swimming pool, and graveyard. Xavier had failed to show the last area off during his tour.

The inside of the Institute, a four-story brick building, was very plain. The top three stories were rooms, mostly vacant now (many of the mutants who had sided with Magneto over a year ago had felt too ashamed to return to the Institute), and Xavier wasn't about to go invade the privacy of his students. The ground floor of the Institute was like any home: living room, dining room (which was unused), kitchen, a few bedrooms that had been converted to offices for Xavier and the other teachers, and several other miscellaneous rooms.

The lower levels were where the real action took place.

"This is the Danger Room," Charles said, wheeling into the observatory. Wolverine nodded at his arrival and continued shouting orders through the intercom. Several of the younger students, Rahne, Jubilee, Laura, and Pixie were in the Danger Room performing an exercise. Warren looked impressed with the technology and set-up.

"What happens if someone gets hurt?" Alison asked, concerned.

Charles smiled. "The most anyone ever gets hurt in the Danger Room is a slight stun, nothing more than a taser shock, but the infirmary is right down the hall. Come, follow me."

"Chuck," Logan said gruffly. "If you see Drake in there admiring his wimpy physique, trying to see if he's got abs, you tell him I'm lookin' for 'im. This is the third session he's missed."

"Of course, Logan." Charles replied.

The four left the Danger room and wheeled down the hall a few yards to a glass wall and doors. Inside was the infirmary. Top of the line equipment and machines cluttered the floor, cabinets of medicine and tools on the wall. Bobby was inside, a finger on his chest, examining himself in the mirror. Charles sighed and pushed open the door.

"Bobby,"

The blonde jumped and almost turned around, but quickly adjusted himself, trying desperately to keep the front of his torso hidden from the intruders. Amara attempted to glance at his chest, just to annoy him, but he managed to keep it obscured from her vision while he slid his shirt back on. He turned and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Yes, Professor?" He asked breathlessly.

"Logan's looking for you." Charles said.

"Yeah, he's gonna give you hell!" Amara exclaimed.

Bobby glared at her and slid past, darting for the Danger Room.

"Recent break-up?" Alison asked, a look of amusement on her face.

"Too bad it wasn't sooner." Amara scowled.

Alison laughed, freely and joyfully, something she hadn't done in a long time. Amara didn't seem to be taking much pleasure from it, but Alison didn't seem to care much at the moment.

"As you can see, we have top of the line equipment and multiple students who are very well exercised in medicine. You are in good hands here." Charles said. He took them through several machines. Amara stopped at the CAT scan. Bobby had wiped the results, but it was still on. What was he up to?

The four exited the infirmary. Charles showcased the Dark Room where the communications equipment was stashed, the hangar where the Blackbird and X-Chopper as well as a S.H.I.E.L.D. Hellier Jet sat silently, powerfully.

"And finally, the pride and joy of the Institute—" Charles leaned down and allowed the door to scan his eye.

"Welcome Professor X."

"Professor X?" Amara asked. "Rahne and Roberto have been messing around with the system again…"

"No worry," Charles replied with a humorous smile as the door opened. "I rather enjoy the nickname."

The four mutants walked inside. Warren and Alison were in awe. They were standing inside a large, silver sphere. It was massive, probably fifty yards across. A small bridge, which they were currently standing on, led to the dead center of the sphere.

"Welcome to Cerebro." Charles said.

"Amazing." Warren breathed out.

"What's it used for?" Alison asked, still staring around at the metal walls.

"Cerebro can detect new mutant outbreaks, or "breakouts" as we call them, anywhere in the world." He turned. "That's how we found the two of you."

"But my mutation developed years ago!" Warren said. "Why didn't your Cerebro detect me then?"

"Cerebro wasn't completed until a year ago." Charles said. "Besides, it prioritizes mutants by the level of danger they are in, among other factors, so you weren't detected until yesterday."

Warren nodded.

"So you need all of this to find mutants?" Alison asked.

"Oh, it does much more than that, my dear." Charles said. "Cerebro extends my powers around the world and allows me to read minds, depending on how strong the psychic barriers are, freeze bodies, and locate almost anyone on the planet."

"It sounds like there's variables in there. A lot of them." Warren said.

"You can hide from it," Charles admitted. "But it takes some doing."

He smiled and turned to the couple. "So? Do you need time to think it over?"

Warren looked at Alison. "I'm willing to join—part-time only though."

"Part-time?" Amara asked.

"If you need me, I can be there to help, but because of my last name—I need to keep out of the limelight."

Charles nodded. "I can arrange for a body-suit to be made for you, and a mask if you want."

Warren nodded. He turned to his girlfriend. "What about you, Alison?"

Alison frowned. "Sorry, Professor," she said. "I'm afraid I have to decline your offer again. If I join the X-Men, my mutation will go public and I'm just not ready for that."

Charles nodded. "Perfectly fine, my dear. As always, our doors are open."
-

-
Worthington Estate
October 7, 11:33 EST
-

Warren tucked his wings in and landed on the balcony of his father's office. He grabbed a trench-coat from the closet and tossed it over his shoulders, keeping his wings hidden. His father's office was empty, a strange sight for this time of day. He glanced around and picked up his father's schedule book. Nothing interesting. The volumes lining the bookshelves behind his father's cherry wood desk were real, first editions that cost millions. They were covered in dust. As a young boy, Warren had attempted to read them, but his father dissuaded him citing that Warren was too young to understand them.

His father's computer was locked, no getting anything off of that. A dozen files and papers were scattered semi-messily around his desk. Warren shuffled through them, but didn't see anything important. The drawers were locked as was the filing cabinet. Warren sighed and walked out of his father's office, heading down the hall to the terrace. A maid passed him quickly, almost upset. Warren frowned. His father had a bad temper with the staff. Some claimed Worthington was a "Southern plantation owner, and the staff were his—"

Warren heard voices coming off of the terrace and headed towards the doors, stopping short of passing through them. The night was dark and cool. There were soft lights on the terrace, shining on the light grey stone floor. A steel and glass table was arranged in the middle of the outside area and two men were sitting there. The French doors were open and Warren peeked through the thin curtains over them, blowing gently in the wind.

President Kelly and Warren Worthington II were sitting on the terrace. As Warren listened, he became enraged. His father was acting as if nothing had changed, as if he couldn't be prouder to be developing this cure. Warren had half a mind to tear off his trench-coat and tell his father exactly what he thought of him…and the President too!

The only thing that prevented Warren from making his grand debut as a mutant was the maid rushing past him again with a tray of snacks. Warren scowled, turned the collar on his jacket up, and headed back towards his room.
-

-
Island of Genosha
October 7, 20:09 EST
-

The windows on another research lab exploded outward. Pyro cackled next to Magneto. He turned to the scientists who had escaped the building.

"Look at 'em! Running around like 'ickens w't their heads cut 'ff!"

Pyro threw flames at the men and cackled some more as they burned alive.

"Fried chicken!" he yelled, laughing some more.

Police vehicles screeched around the corner and slid to a stop, forming a defensive wall. The police officers jumped out of the vans and cars, lining up behind them and opening fire on the mutants. Magneto would have none of his brethren fall, however, and raised a magnetic shield to stop the bullets.

"Foolish humans, hiding behind vehicles made of metal to battle the Master of Magnetism?" Magneto turned the bullets back and released them, letting them hit the officers, killing or maiming them. One bullet hit a gas tank on the vans and they exploded in a chain of detonations that left searing heat to be felt by all.

"The island will be ours by morning, brothers and sisters!" Magneto exclaimed, raising his hand. The mutants yelled and charged forward, killing all who got in their way.
-

-
Xavier Institute
October 7, 21:09 EST
-

Rogue had turned the lights out in her room. Nine o'clock and already she was getting ready for bed. She had taken a bath and watched an episode of TV, but she was still depressed. These spells came over her, frequently, and for undeterminable amounts of time. She was depressed at her loss of powers. She had sent Gambit away, told him that she couldn't be with him and they shouldn't try. Gambit had protested, naturally, but Rogue had sent him away. The summer had been miserable. Instead of teasing guys and having fun with the girls, Rogue had been forced to hide away inside. Her red-hair made her naturally pale, but now she felt she looked like a vampire.

School had started and Rogue had to be careful to wear gloves and full body clothes to the school to prevent knocking out one of the children or teachers. The mutants who attended school had kept their abilities and lives as X-Men a secret, blending in seamlessly. Rogue didn't want to ruin that.

Her ability to absorb memories and abilities had become a pain in the ass. Every time she brushed up against someone, she got the memories they were thinking of that moment, and others in spare. Charles was using his mental abilities to keep her from losing herself, but the memories kept popping back up and it was getting harder and harder to remember who she was, and what memories belonged to her.

Rogue reached under her desk and pulled out a bottle of brown liquid. She popped the top and reached for a shot-glass, but decided against it and touched the bottle to her lips.

"Well I was going to ask you to share…" a voice came.

Rogue glanced over at the window. McKenna was standing there, and not in her assassin's outfit. The brunette was wearing tight jeans, an orange tank-top, and a black leather jacket. The various tattoos of the Hand decorated her arms, the red, black, and purple ink flashing in the varying light.

"Here," Rogue replied, pulling the shot-glass back out and pouring a very generous amount of liquid into it.

"I'm in New York on a mission. Ian Quinn's borrowed too much money, I'm here to persuade him to give it back in full with interest."

Rogue stared at her. "What the hell are you? A fuckin' cop? Sit that fine ass down an' drink. I don't give a damn if yo're on duty."

McKenna smirked and picked up the glass, swallowing it all in one gulp. Rogue raised an eyebrow and drank some more out of the bottle.

"I hope this is just pleasure drinking." McKenna said.

"Oh don't you start yo'r damn psychology bullshit now." Rogue warned.

"Rogue…" McKenna warned.

"Nope, la la la la la, ain't listenin'!" Rogue took another swig from the jar. McKenna snatched it from her hand. Rogue stood up and knocked her chair to the ground.

"Give it!"

"Not until you listen." McKenna said firmly.

Rogue scrunched up her face in a sour expression and sighed.

"You need to clear your mind." McKenna said. "I understand your loss of powers…troubles you, but with it coming up, you can not be distracted. A distracted mind is useless to the mission."

Rogue sighed. "Clear m' mind?" she asked. "I can't figure out what is m' mind and what's in everyone else's!"

McKenna set the bottle down behind her and Rogue eyed it warily. McKenna extended her hands and placed them on Rogue's knees. "Do you remember the first time I taught you to clear your mind?" she asked.
-
Six Years Ago
-

Rogue practically slammed the door in McKenna's face. The brunette caught it firmly with her palm and shoved it open, following the fuming red-head into the hotel room.

"You were supposed to take the shot!" McKenna exclaimed.

"What? With his kid standin' right there next to him?" Rogue demanded. "Ah hell no!"

"You can not be distracted by your feelings or morals during a mission. You must know when to strike and you can not hesitate. Often the moment for action is mere milliseconds in length.

"I know that!"

"Then why did you not take the shot?" McKenna demanded.

Rogue had tossed off her scarf and mask onto the plush bed, pushing her long red hair back into a ponytail. She whirled when McKenna asked the last question, her red hair glinting in the soft light and flashing against the golden wallpaper of the room.

"I didn't take the shot 'cause his son, who wasn't more'n three years old was standin' right there!"

"Had your mind been clear, you would have never seen the child." McKenna scolded.

"But I did!" Rogue replied. She sat down hard on the white bed sheets. "I can kill people, McKenna, you know that pretty damn well."

"Yes,"

"But I don't kill fathers unless I got a damn good reason."

"Well then here's a reason." McKenna replied loudly. Rogue was glad the room was soundproof. "Ian Quinn is a human trafficker, arms dealer, and generally un-human."

Rogue glared at her.

"Now," McKenna added. "Thanks to you, he's heading to an underground auction right now. One we can't stop because we don't know where it is! Had we killed him, they would have delayed the auction, found a new leader, one we could influence, and then we could take down the entire ring. Thanks to you, hundreds of girls are going to die!"

Rogue bit her lip so hard she cut herself. Blood trickled over her lower lip and down to her chin. She wiped it up quickly, licking the blood off of her finger. She took a deep breath and McKenna saw the damage she had done in the red-head's eyes.

McKenna sat on the bed next to Rogue and placed a hand on her knee. Rogue flinched slightly, something the Belle did not normally did. McKenna wondered how bad she had hurt her apprentice.

"I understand why you chose not to take the shot." McKenna said quietly. "There was a time when I did the exact same time. My teacher was not as gentle to me as I am to you."

"Am I supposed to be grateful?" Rogue asked.

"That's not what I'm saying." McKenna replied, ignoring the tone Rogue had used. "What I'm saying is that I know how you feel."

Rogue rolled her eyes.

McKenna sighed and reached into her belt. Rogue pulled away, worried the brunette might cut her with some knife, but McKenna pulled out a picture instead. It was her, except younger. There was a white house in the background and a green yard beneath their feet. The sky was blue. There was a second girl in the picture, much younger. She had the same face as her sister, curly brown hair and a Star of David hanging from her neck.

"This is my sister, Kitty." McKenna smiled sadly. "She was young and innocent, sweet and beautiful, she was my world and I would have done anything for her." McKenna hesitated. "I did everything for her."

Rogue looked at McKenna curiously.

"I was not the woman supposed to be sitting beside you today. It was supposed to be Kitty." McKenna said quietly, a whisper in fact. It was as if the two were on a crowded train and McKenna didn't want anyone to hear what they were saying. "The Hand originally wanted Kitty to be their Shǎnyào zhī xīng. She doesn't know it yet, but Kitty is a mutant."

Rogue knew all too well what mutants were. Fury had told her before sending her off to this hell-hole. She had to act her part, though.

"Mutant?"

"People like us, with special abilities." McKenna replied. "We are called mutants."

Rogue nodded and made an "ah" sound.

"So yo'r sister is a mutant?" Rogue asked after a moment of silence.

"Not yet," McKenna replied. "When she becomes a mutant, she will be the most powerful of them all. She will hold the key to saving a world from a disaster.* Her abilities will go beyond most other mutants. The Hand wanted to manipulate her, turn her into me, turn her into a killer."

"So you volunteered." Rogue replied, connecting the dots in her mind.

McKenna nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek and dripping onto her outfit. "She was my baby sister. I had to protect her."

Rogue nodded slowly. "How'd ya know they were comin' for her?" she asked.

McKenna took a shaky breath and put the picture back up. "That is a story for another time." She replied. "Now, I am going to teach you to cleanse your mind so you can do what needs to be done. Close your eyes."

Rogue crossed her legs on the bed and closed her eyes. McKenna put a hand on each of her knees.

"Focus on your happiest memory." She whispered.
-

Rogue opened her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Clear?" McKenna asked.

"Like mud." Rogue replied sourly. "I've run outta good memories."

"Let me try." McKenna whispered, reaching with her bare hands for Rogue's temples. Rogue grabbed her hands.

"Wait!" Rogue exclaimed. "I'll drain ya!"

"Trust me, ye haizi." McKenna replied. Rogue slowly released her hands and McKenna reached up, touching Rogue's head gently with her fingers. Rogue could feel the drain beginning, but before McKenna's power flooded her veins, the brunette let go. The memory flashed through Rogue's mind.

"Nice trick." Rogue commented. "Last time all you could do was take the memories."

"I have been practicing." McKenna smiled.

Rogue nodded. "Thank you, McKenna."

McKenna smiled. "As long as you keep an eye on my sister and keep her out of harm's way and away form the Hand, I am still in your debt, my friend."

Laura pushed open the door to Rogue's room and McKenna glanced up. "Ah! Hello again Xiǎo māo!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," Laura said. "I was just coming to check on Rogue. I was unaware you were here."

"It is fine." McKenna replied, standing up. "I was leaving."

Rogue smiled at her one more time and McKenna darted out the window. Rogue watched her go, then turned to Laura. "I'm fine, X." she said, standing up and pouring a shot-glass full of liquid before setting the bottle back under her nightstand. Laura smiled and nodded, closing the door behind her.

Laura descended the stairs and turned into the living room. Jubilee was standing at the window and the television was on. Laura turned up the news report.

"…increasing vigilante attacks in New York City by both the purple female archer known as Knightress and the wall-crawling red-and-blue hero known as Spiderman have the NYPD worried. However, police captain George Stacy, who works in an area of the city with frequent vigilante attacks says that the vigilante attacks have helped the NYPD catch several criminals they were unaware of and dozens they have been searching for for quite a while. He adds that vigilantes are not the law and the police need to be left to do their jobs…"

"Hypocrites at their finest." Laura muttered. "Am I correct, Jubilee?"

Jubilee continued to stare out of the window.

"Jubes?" Laura asked, walking up to the window next to her and spotting the source of her worry immediately. Rahne and Roberto were on a bench about one hundred yards from the Institute. As the two girls watched, Roberto wrapped his arm around Rahne and she leaned into his embrace. Jubilee sighed.

"What am I supposed to do about that?" she demanded. "I don't want to ignore it, let him get away with whatever, but what does that leave me with? I can't confront him!" She turned to Laura. "What's your opinion?"

Laura did not remove her eyes from the couple on the bench. She ached inside, but from what she didn't know.

"I am not the best person to be asking for relationship advice." Laura replied.

"I'm not." Jubilee corrected. She paused. "With you hanging out with Rogue, maybe you should say "ain't"…then again that might be weird…"

"I still do not understand why you are teaching me to slur my words. My grammar is perfect. It does not need to be corrected."

"You gotta blend in, Laura!" Jubilee exclaimed. "Saying "do not" and "I am" makes you stick out!"

Laura laughed.

"What?" Jubilee demanded.

"You do a terrible impersonation of me." Laura giggled.

Jubilee scowled and punched her in the arm playfully. She glanced out the window once more and sighed, turning back to Laura. "All right, fine. No grammar? You're getting a lesson in punk rock tonight."

Laura made a curious face. "Punk rock? I was unaware there were sub-categories."

Jubilee snickered. "Come on," she gestured.
-

It was turning evening. The sky was fading from blue to a dark purple. The few clouds on the horizon glowed faintly in the little remaining light of the sun, only the tip of which could be seen over the horizon. The grass was dying slowly as winter approached, just as the heart of the woman standing on it died every time she visited the gravesite. She took a shaky breath and knelt down, placing the purple lilacs on her fiance's grave. She stood up and placed one hand on her swollen belly, rubbing it gently as she sobbed quietly in the stillness and darkness of the night. Someone walked up behind her and Amanda Sefton turned to see Kitty Pryde standing behind her. The brunette had graduated high-school that spring and had decided to attend college originally, but was now doubting her decision due to the recent change of events. Kitty was wearing skinny jeans and a light blue shirt with a blue-jean motorcycle jacket over it. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets to keep them warm, but her silver-link bracelet with the Star of David hanging from it was still visible. Kitty smiled sadly at Amanda and wrapped an arm around the dark-eyed girl's shoulders, having to stand on her tip-toes to do so.

"Thanks for coming, Kitty." Amanda whispered quietly, dabbing at her face with a tissue.

"I'm always here for you." Kitty replied softly, tugging Amanda closer.

The two girls stood in silence, staring at the grave-site. Kurt's grave was simple, just a polished stone slab bearing his name, birth and death dates, and a phrase: "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…"

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Kitty." Amanda whispered. "If it weren't for you these past six months, I'm not sure I would have made it."

"Kurt would want us to be strong," Kitty whispered, staring at the gravestone fondly, sadly.

Amanda smiled. "There was something I wanted to ask you. I was going to ask tomorrow, but since you're here tonight, I'll ask anyway."

"Hmm?" Kitty asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I was wondering if you'd be Jimaine's godmother."

Kitty looked at her in surprise, her blue eyes catching the lights of the Xavier Institute as they automatically flicked on at the first sign of night.

"Really?" she asked.

"You've always been there for Kurt and me, even before—" Amanda glanced at Kurt's grave. "Before he died. I just figured that if anything happened to me—"

"Which nothing will…" Kitty said firmly.

"I was hoping you would look after Jimaine for me."

"Of course." Kitty smiled.

"Jimaine is Kurt's final gift to me." Amanda said fondly, rubbing her stomach and looking at Kurt's grave.
-

She ran, ran as fast as she could. The men were mere feet behind her. The dark-haired girl rounded another corner, the same greenish light illuminating everything.

"Stop following me!" she yelled. "Stop! Stop! Stop! STOP!"

She yelled and collapsed to her knees, clutching her head. The men rounded the corner and looked at her, pulling out a baton. They were dressed in black rubber suits, the green HYDRA logo on each of their shoulders. Their masks were distorted by some green fog, but they reminded the girl of skulls. They approached and she screamed, covering her head. "Stop! Stop it!"

A dark, demonic voice came from nowhere, and yet everywhere.

"Make them stop, X-23. You make them stop. You are the only one who can make them stop!"

"Stop! Please! Stop!" the young girl pleaded, breaking down into tears. She could only have been eight.

"Weakness will not be tolerated, X-23. They won't stop until you make them stop." Came the demonic voice again.

The first man hit her with his baton and the clone cried out, falling onto her back and exposing her mid-section, covered only by a thin night-gown, to the brutality of her beaters. They hit her with their batons and she took it, crying, screaming into the whiteness of the walls and the greenness of the light and fog. They beat her for several minutes until they finally let up. The clone opened her eyes carefully. She could feel the bruises healing already, but something told her they weren't done. They were never done. They would never be done.

One of the soldiers grabbed her thin night-gown and ripped it open, exposing her bare body. She screamed as his cold rubber gloves grasped her still young breasts. One hand went between her legs and she screamed, begging him to stop. He laughed. They all laughed. He jabbed into her and she screamed, her claws ejecting from her hands. She sliced the throat out of his suit with such force that body parts came out with her claws. A huge blood splatter stained the white walls and the soldier's head came nearly clean off. It flipped backwards onto his back, connected by a thin layer of tissue, muscle, and skin.

The other soldiers grabbed their guns to shoot, but the clone took care of the weapons with a single swipe from her claws, slicing the cold metal in half. She ran and jammed her claws into one soldier's shoulders. He shouted in pain, his voice distilled by his mask. The clone ejected the claw from her foot and kicked upwards, slicing his heart out.

The four other soldiers pulled out batons and swung at her. She grabbed one baton with her hand and another with her foot, using her remaining two limbs to slice the third and fourth batons in half and kill two soldiers. She stabbed with her foot, ramming the baton into another soldier's chest and kicking off of the final soldier with her other foot, pulling his heart out with it. She picked it up with her hand and squeezed, crushing it. Blood splattered all over her bare body and face, the muscle and tissue bleeding through her fingers.

She looked at the dead men, at the heart in her hand, at the blood and guts on the floors and wall and fell to her knees, sobbing. They left her like that, they always did. In a few moments she would pick up her nightgown, wrap it around her small, petite figure as best as she could, and return to her room.

This time she didn't. She grabbed a soldier's arm and ripped the flesh from it with her teeth. She continued tearing her prey to pieces with her mouth and claws in such a rage of anger that nothing was left but bones, blood, and shredded muscle. Something pricked her in the neck and she fell to the ground, unconscious.
-

Laura sheathed her claws and gripped her hand hard to keep it from shaking so terribly. She was breathing heavily. She pushed her sheets aside messily, feeling the sweat on them and her bare legs. The moonlight filtered over her skin and the cool breeze from the window she had propped open blew against her. The coolness of the soft air and the dampness of the sweat clinging to her body made her shiver and wish to crawl back under her sheets. She couldn't though. She had stuck out her claws this time. She sighed and sat on the edge of her bed, placing her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She breathed shakily. The always-in-control and tough, fierce clone couldn't stop shaking now. She stood up slowly and carefully, making her bed absolutely silently. She crossed the carpeted floor towards Amara's bed and glanced at her sleeping figure. Laura took the covers in one hand and adjusted them to cover more of the Nova Roman's body. Amara shifted slightly in her sleep. Laura's facial expression barely changed. She glanced at herself in the mirror in passing. Other than the sweat on her body, she looked normal. Her hair was long and straight, as if it could not be messy by design. Her close-cropped black and green shorts and black tank-top clung to her body because of the sweat, but none were ripped, torn, or even wrinkled. Laura sighed softly and opened the large wooden door quietly so she didn't wake Amara. She placed her bare feet on the cold hard-wood floors and shivered slightly as a wave of cold went up her spine. She closed the door and headed down the stairs towards the living room. She had been sleeping down here for a month. She just hoped Rogue didn't come down again tonight. She might get suspicious.
-

-
X-Men: Standing Guard will return in a Moment
-

* See S1E02 "Sizzling Rich"

** Now, what disaster could she be referring too…(HINT: S1E12-14)

***Hee, hee, hee. Check the Epilogue and the rest of the season. :D