Author: Carla, aka Cali-chan
Rating: PG-13 for now. Will probably move up to R towards the end, mostly for violence- it's coming somewhere in the future.
Genre: Post-series, suspense, drama, action/adventure, romance
Canon: The fic is situated after the last episode of X-Men Evolution, however it would be nice if you guys had some knowledge of what's gone on in the X-Men comics, too, for I'll be bringing a lot of that into the fic. You could say this is me trying to put X-Men (both comics and 90s TV series) into the X-Men Evo timeline.
Disclaimer: X-Men and X-Men Evolution belong to Marvel and I'm sure they'd sue me for my last penny if I came up with anything remotely similar and tried to claim it as my own- drat, there goes that P-Men idea! ;_;
Pairings: Mostly comic canon couples and some non-canon that I just love =b I don't wanna give it away. Just read the whole thing and if you don't like them, feel free to throw stuff at me ^^;;;

Summary: After the events of Apocalypse, a new dark force threatens the X-Men. And it's using Betsy Braddock's human boyfriend to create uproar... How can this be? Groups unite, friendships grow and mystery looms over the mutants in Bayville, in the wake of Project: Black Womb.

Warning 1: Hello, longest chapter of anything ever written! This chapter is more than twice as big as #1 was.

Warning 2: The flashback in the very last scene of the chapter (the Remy scene) might be a bit... disturbing to some, although I think it's not any worse than the comics themselves are. Still, be warned- things will probably get worse than that as the fic goes on. I haven't upped the rating to R yet, but I'm pretty sure I'll have to, eventually.

Author's note: Please don't forget to read my timeline for EVO and for this fic at kyoudai dot net slash xmenevo slash pestetimeline01 dot html.

.

.

.

.

Plague of the Black Womb

#2 - "Getting too serious, too quickly."

Bobby put his arm around his girlfriend's waist as they walked back to her house from the movie theater. "So, did you like the movie?"

"It was ok," Lorna replied, tucking in a strand of her brown hair from where it had escaped from under her beanie. Truth be told, she didn't like the movie much- she was never one for action movies- but she did have a lot of fun. It was hard not to when you went out with Bobby Drake, he was the funniest person she knew. And she had subjected him to many a romantic comedy, so she figured it was fair to let him choose once in a while.

"Did you talk to your parents about coming over to the Christmas party at the Institute?" Bobby wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he noticed that she became uncomfortable. "You didn't, right?" he sighed.

"I'm sorry," she looked downcast. "I just haven't found the right moment."

He let go of her and was quiet for a moment. Lorna knew he was bummed about her answer. "Are you mad?"

"I just don't get why," he stopped and put his hands inside his jacket pockets, looking at her with confusion. "I don't know why you have to walk on tiptoes around them, like one word is going to freak them out. They already accepted me; why would they have a problem with my family?"

Family, she didn't miss the word. She knew he didn't just mean his parents, he meant his friends at the Xavier Institute. She knew how important his housemates and teachers were to Bobby; they were a very tight unit. She'd met many of them at school, and it wasn't that she didn't like them. Quite the contrary, actually. But she was, for some reason, acutely aware that she wasn't really part of that family. "It's not that!" she replied, agitated, because he was getting this all wrong. "It's just... we've only been dating for a month. Christmas for us is a family holiday. They might think we're moving a little too fast and I don't want to scare them."

"Too many mutants at once might come as a shock, is it?" he snapped back, turning his back on her. He started walking faster and she started to get a little mad, too.

"Would you stop saying that?" She sighed, grabbing his arm. He stopped but he didn't look at her. "This isn't about your mutation, and you know it. My parents are not mutant-haters. They haven't been anything but nice to you."

"Then why? I mean, besides their mutation, they're all perfectly normal people. I don't see why you have to be scared... Unless..." He finally turned to her, apparently figuring out that the problem didn't really lie with Mr. and Mrs. Dane. "...It's you? You don't wanna go to the party and you're just stalling me?" She became quiet, and that was his answer. "Why don't you wanna go?"

She hugged herself lightly. "I don't know. It's not that I don't like your friends or anything, it's just that... I guess... Well, I've never been in that situation. Everybody would be just... looking at me. If I meet them individually it's ok, but... all at once?"

Bobby took her hand. "No one in the mansion is gonna make you feel weird." He could see she was still doubtful, though. "Ok, listen; it's not a big deal. If you think you'll be uncomfortable, you don't have to go." For a couple seconds she thought he was mad at her, but then he made a face and laughed. "Maybe it's a good thing you're not going- when the X-men are together, it gets pretty crazy!"

She smiled at him, happy that he wasn't upset. "Well, from what Amara tells me, you cause much of the craziness yourself!"

He gasped, and she laughed heartily. "Slander!" he exclaimed, clutching a hand to his chest in pretend agony. "I can't believe one of my best friends could concoct such crafty fabrication about me!"

"Big words don't suit you, Bob," she laughed more as he mock-glared at her. "And I'm sure it had something to do with the time you put pink hair dye in your teacher's shampoo bottle..."

"They should be thankful it was Dr. McCoy and not Logan!" he defended himself. Rather poorly, if she was honest. She laughed even more. "No, I'm serious! He would've been furious for days- not to mention he'd've made Shish-Ka-Bob out of me!" Seeing that Lorna couldn't stop laughing, he smiled at her, but continued on his tirade. "You know, it wasn't even that bad... pink on Dr. McCoy's fur only looked a little purple, there wasn't that much difference."

"You're one in a million, Bobby Drake," she shook her head at his antics. "And thank God- I don't think the world could resist two of you."

He winked at her and his arm came back to wrap around her waist. "It sucks that you're not going, though. I really wanted you to meet Jubes."

"Jubes? Who is he?"

"Jubilee. I've told you about her... Asian girl, powers like fireworks, who used to live at the institute last year?"

Lorna thought about it for a second and then it came to her. Bobby talked about her a lot, actually. They were obviously close friends. She wondered if she ought to be jealous. "Oh yeah, I remember her. She's coming back?"

"Only for the holidays. Though I'm thinking I should try to convince her parents into letting her stay." He looked up front and noticed that they were near Lorna's house.

"You could charm a rock into speaking," she assured him, with an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll let her."

"Glad to see you have so much faith in me," he gave her a lopsided smile as they reached her door. "I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

She nodded and kissed him lightly, waving goodbye. She entered her house and walked towards the window, her eyes fixed in his silhouette as he walked down the street. She felt very guilty. She should have told him. She should have.

.

.

.

.

Rogue wasn't aware someone else was near her until Kitty literally shoved a hand through her face.

"Ack! Kitty!" she exclaimed as she jumped back a good couple of feet. She glared darkly at her as the shorter girl laughed.

"Geez, Rogue, you must really want Gambit to stay if you're actually waiting for the news." She pointed to the door to Professor Xavier's Study, which they were currently standing in front of. Rogue had been staring at it like it held the answer to life when Kitty found her.

Rogue glared some more. "I could care less if that Cajun stays or goes," she sentenced gravely. She crossed her arms, and then, much in the same tone Kurt often used to sound innocent while explaining why Mr. Logan's Danger Room sim of a Magneto attack had turned into a Teletubbies episode, she added: "I'm just anxiously waiting to say hi to Scott and Jean."

Kitty gave her a disbelieving look. While it was true that Scott and Jean had arrived, and none of the students had seen them yet because they were ushered into the Professor's Study, without so much as a trip to their rooms to drop their bags, as soon as they arrived, Rogue had never been "anxious" about anything in her whole life, and Kitty was quick to point that out.

Rogue almost growled. "Ya know what? Think whatever ya want."

Kitty laughed. "If I didn't know you any better, Roguey, I'd say you're, like, all flustered."

"I'm not!" she turned her back on Kitty. Seriously, if Kitty weren't her best friend, she'd have strangled her by now. "Weren't you studying or something?"

Kitty sighed. "Yeah, but Kurt bailed out on me to go on a date with Amanda, so now I'm going down to look for Alex."

Rogue was about to reply something about how she wouldn't succeed, when the door to the Professor's Study opened and Dr. McCoy and Ms. Munroe came out, followed closely by Scott and Jean, who were trailed by Remy LeBeau himself.

"Jean! Scott!" Kitty ran to hug them and greet them.

Rogue waved at them from where she stood, but her smile turned to her usual scowl as the red-eyed mutant walked up to her. "Missed me, chérie?"

Rogue snorted. "In your dreams, Swamp Rat."

"Mais certainement, mademoiselle," he replied, with an obnoxious wink. Rogue glowered at him. If she could've touched him, her hands would've been around his neck and strangling him by then.

"See what we'll have to put up with every single day, Professor?" Scott sighed at the two of them as Professor Xavier rolled himself out of his study.

"I'm afraid you will just have to, Scott," Xavier shook his head at his first student. Scott may be a born leader and the telepath would trust him with his life every day of the week, but he couldn't forget that he was still young and impulsive, and he sometimes reacted as such a person would. "The bottom line is that Mr. LeBeau will be staying here at the Institute until further notice. No matter how irritating you, or anyone for that matter, might find him." Scott's jaw tensed, but he did not have one more word to reply to his mentor. Jean kept throwing him glances, as if to see if he would keep himself in check.

Rogue gaped at the Professor like he'd grown another head. "You're kidding, right?"

Xavier's eyebrows rose, though his expression remained serious. "I believe this to be in everybody's best interests, Rogue."

Rogue closed her eyes and mentally counted down to ten, trying not to react harshly. It didn't work, because she could feel Remy's eyes on her still. He was probably smirking, too, the smug bastard. She let out a growl and couldn't stop herself- she glared at Xavier. "Urgh!" she exclaimed, and promptly turned on her heels and left down the hallway.

Hank and Ororo looked at each other and chuckled, each thinking of how stereotypically teenager-like Rogue's reaction had been. Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming upstairs; Rogue's, of course.

"Why is she so mad? She isn't usually like this," Jean commented, looking thoughtfully down the hall through which Rogue had just disappeared.

"Yeah, I thought she was anxious to see you two," Kitty commented, standing beside the taller redhead. "She totally forgot about you guys!"

"Remy tends to have that effect on the filles, petite," Remy said, leaning his arm on Kitty's shoulder as the four students looked in the same direction. The younger girl didn't seem to mind.

"Well, you better keep it in, Gumbo." All those who were present turned to see Logan finally come out of the Professor's Study, his sharp senses having caught all that had happened even if he wasn't in the middle of the conflict like the others. He leaned against the doorframe and glared menacingly at the Cajun. "Stay away from Stripes, y'hear me? Chuck mighta let you stay, and he must have a good reason, but I'll have my eye on you. One funny move and I'll make sure you can't move anymore. Got it?"

Remy reacted only by giving him a self-assured smile and a half-nod. "I wouldn't expect any less from you, homme."

"I'd like to see if he's still this cocky after a Danger Room session," Scott whispered to Jean, and she laughed quietly.

"Far be it from any of us to impede our friend here from voicing his opinion," Hank quipped to Ororo, who was shaking her head at Logan's threat, but smiling. That man wouldn't ever change.

Xavier also took the exchange with a grain of salt. "Thank you, Logan, that should instill enough fear in him to last for a while," he smiled at the burly man, who just grunted in response, knowing Gambit was much too insolent to be truly afraid of any threats he made. "Now, Remy, I believe you should go and get comfortable in your new quarters. He will be rooming with Bobby- Kitty, would you be so kind as to show him to his room?"

"Sure, Professor," the youngest in the group said, and started to guide Gambit to his destination. The two went down the hallway sharing some small talk; especially Kitty as she told him how pissed off Bobby would be that he'd be forced back to sharing a room, after having been by himself for so long.

.

.

.

.

Kurt opted to teleport to the park that night; as much as he would've loved to spend all evening with Amanda, he did have a history report to finish, so the meeting had to be as brief as possible.

Carefully stepping out from behind the tree he'd chosen as an incoming location, he double-checked that his holo-watch was working properly, and then set out, with a light skip on his step, to meet Amanda at the bench by the one orange light post.

"Guten abend, Liebe!" he greeted her with a bright smile. "I'm sorry that it took me so long to get here, I was working on a History report," he cringed in an exaggerated fashion. "But I am very glad for the break and would not mind at all if you wanted to go get a Gut Bomb," he not-so-subtly suggested. She didn't reply, and it was then that he realized she was a little too quiet. She hadn't even greeted him back to begin with, she was just looking down at her hands as they twined and untwined, like she was nervous. "Amanda? Is something wrong?"

When she looked back at him, she was biting her lip. He wondered if he should be worried. She didn't leave him wondering for too long, though, as she quickly started to explain. "My dad got me a full scholarship to UC Stanford. A full ride. No requirements," she stated.

She had been very point-blank, but now looked up at him, expectant. He wasn't really sure what he should say. Stanford? That was on the opposite side of the country. Kurt knew this, of course, from Jean. He also knew that Stanford had always been Amanda's #1 choice for college. Once, when she was still in elementary school, her family had visited the University while vacationing in California, and she'd fallen in love with it. It had been her dream to go to Stanford since as long as she could remember.

Kurt, on the other hand, due to his... condition, had to stay close to the Institute, even when in college. He'd already applied and gotten accepted to a smaller University near Bayville (his visa status demanded that he get an early acceptance to ensure everything was in order). They hadn't really talked about what they would do next year- life had gotten too hectic for Kurt and the X-Men that summer, so they hadn't really spent a lot of time together lately. He knew she'd just sent her applications in, one to Stanford included, just to see if she would get accepted, although she wasn't sure what she would do if she was. Stanford was very expensive. She had mentioned that she was looking for financial aid.

Now, her father had gone out of his way to get her a scholarship. To a university on the opposite side of the country. That could only mean... "I thought your father wasn't bothered by my mutation," he asked, confused, and somewhat dejected.

"He's not," she hurried to interject. "It has nothing to do with you being a mutant. It's just..."

She paused, and Kurt could see her trying to measure her words. "I understand. It's not because I'm a mutant, he just thinks I'm a bad boyfriend in general. Wunderbar," he concluded, his tone bitter. And he had a right to be: after that incident with Todd Tolansky, he'd been nothing but attentive to Amanda's parents, trying to reassure them that he cared very much about their daughter and that despite that initial impression, his life was not a complete disaster. They seemed to genuinely like him, he'd been so proud of himself for regaining their trust. But now this... he didn't know what to think. He'd be lying if he said it didn't sting.

He didn't say any of this out loud, but she flinched anyway. "No, he just... he thinks we're getting too serious, too quickly," she tried to explain, but it came out a bit weak. He knew it was an excuse: in between the whole Apocalypse deal, their SATs and just trying to keep up their GPA on top of all the stress, they had barely gone on three dates in the last three months. He didn't know why she bothered trying to soften the blow, when it was obvious. "He's trying to separate us, I know, and I don't like it, but..."

He let it go, not wanting to upset her. "Alright, if you say so," he quipped, in a neutral tone. He sat down on the bench beside her and let out a chilly breath. "So... you're going to take it, then?" he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

One of her hands rose to her forehead, as if to stave off a heavy headache, and then she turned around, looking straight at him. "I... I think I will," she admitted. Her expression was regretful but certain- clearly she didn't want to hurt him, but she knew what she wanted to do. "I'm sorry, Kurt. It's just... it's Stanford. Admission guaranteed. No requirements. I'll never get a better offer than that."

He couldn't lie to himself: it hurt. It hurt a lot. They hadn't been dating that long and they hadn't spent as much time together as he would've wanted, but he really liked her and he was happy in this relationship. "So... what about us?" he questioned, tone a bit clipped, but he was fighting the urge to simply BAMF out of there, back to the Institute. "Do we keep on?"

She didn't reply straight away. He felt uncomfortable in the silence. He took some space, stood up and paced a bit while he thought about things. Thank goodness his image inducer was working fine, because he was sure his tail was fluttering about as he moved, and that would be a bit hard to explain, even in the dark, if someone passed by and the hologram was off. "Zustimmung," he started, sounding conciliatory. "I understand; this is your dream, and you've worked hard all these years in school, so of course you deserve this. You do. You should take it; it's what you've always wanted." He walked back toward her, hands in his pockets. "And if you want to stay together, I know we can. It's simply going to take a little more... scheduling..." he frowned, as if already seeing the timetables in his head. "I mean, I'm sure it will be difficult," he continued, almost like he was talking to himself instead of to her. "But hey, Jean and Scott have a continent between them, too, and they're still together. And they are the most uptight people I know, so it can't be that hard, right?"

She smiled lightly, a rather bittersweet gesture, at his describing his two friends as "uptight." That was so Kurt; she would miss that. However, she wasn't very sure of the idea he had just proposed. "I don't know if I can do that, Kurt." She put her face in her hands, balancing her weight on her thighs as she leaned forward. "I don't believe in long-distance relationships. It wouldn't be fair to either of us, and... I just..." She sighed. "I don't think I'm that strong."

His first instinct was to disagree, but he held himself back. No need to make the situation worse by sounding desperate. He sat back down with a sigh. "So... we're breaking up, then," he stated gravely. He wished it didn't have to be this way. He hadn't really thought that hard about their future, but they'd always had fun together and he had hoped their relationship would last. He had not been expecting this. But if this was what she wanted, there wasn't much he could do.

She turned to him and took his three-fingered had in one of hers. "I'm sorry, Kurt," she said, eyes tearing up now. "I really, really like you. You're a great guy. I care for you, and I wish I didn't have to do this." She was sincerely apologetic, although it wasn't much of a comfort for him. "But I guess we just... have to take separate ways now."

He didn't know what to say, so he simply nodded. She stood up and looked at him, regretful. She seemed to be hesitating to say something. "I hope..." she finally started. "Maybe someday, when I..." She held tighter on his hand for a second, but seemed to catch herself before she could say something that would make things worse. He stared at her hand as she drew it back. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, then leaned in to drop a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for being so wonderful."

And that was that. She turned on her step, leaving the park in the opposite way he'd come in. He saw her raise a hand to her face, and imagined she was wiping a tear away. Slumped on the bench, he gazed at her retreating silhouette as it retreated out of sight, and even for a long while later. His mind was reeling. He felt too dazed to move, but also he didn't think he could focus strongly enough to teleport back to the Institute. He'd try it a little later.

.

.

.

.

Deena Giaomozzo, representative of the 18th Legislative District in the County Legislature of Nassau County, New York, was a fairly conservative woman, for a Democrat. She and her husband Benny had a fairly tranquil routine outside of the world of politics, and they both usually retired to bed at around ten at night, every night. Their neighborhood was very quiet, most of the time.

She was just getting into bed when she heard the crash coming from downstairs.

Now, as she stood outside her home in the middle of the night, a heavy coat guarding her robe-clad figure from the cold, she looked up to the message graffitied with red paint onto the left-most wall of her Glen Cove townhouse and the shattered window right beside it, and wondered if maybe the world of politics had now gotten so obtrusive that it had finally started to invade her home life.

She shook her head as the police lights faded away down the road. Her husband had gone inside to reassure their son and daughter, both of whom, although they were well into their teens, were still rather shaken by the act of vandalism. She couldn't blame them; she had opted to report the incident and deal with the police when they arrived at the scene, but she was fairly upset herself. They didn't have much to go on, to be honest: they had figured the culprit had to be a teenager by sheer virtue of the usual profile, and interviewing her neighbors had proven fruitless as her home was fairly isolated and whoever did this had fled the scene immediately- nobody had seen any strangers roaming around. The cops would hardly go CSI on a simple vandalism case, but the lack of evidence certainly didn't help matters.

But what was really bothering her was that she still couldn't find a good reason for anybody to want to vandalize her home. Nothing had been stolen anyway, while she knew young people these days graffitied "art," why would they break her window? Trying to leave your mark on someone else's property was teenage rebellion; throwing a rock through the glass pane of her living room window was, on the other hand, a felony.

"They want to make sure they've got your attention," the officer who responded to her 911 call had explained to her. She wasn't convinced. When "attention" was sure to mean her calling the cops on them, she didn't see how that could benefit them. The patrolman, short and with something of a pot-belly, whose mousy brown mustache twitched every time he spoke, apparently believed these punks thought themselves invincible because they were "special."

She didn't understand the message. She had nothing against these... people; she wouldn't want her kids hanging out with one of them, and she had to admit some of their abilities scared her deeply, but so long as they remained within legal boundaries, she didn't believe in taking any actions against them. She hadn't even taken a stand on that issue, politically speaking; she had never lobbied for causes either for or against these individuals, and remained neutral on proposals by fellow legislators who had wanted to take a stand against. So why send her this message?

She shook her head, confused, and walked toward her front door as she took her cell phone out of her pant pocket in order to call the Mayor and explain what had just happened. It seemed she'd have to get involved in the struggle now, and this incident had determined which side she was to take. As she reached the entrance to the house, she spared one more look at the single phrase that was spray-painted onto her cream-colored wall:

STOP MUTANT OPRESSION NOW.

.

.

.

.

Kitty shook her head, still laughing as she made her way to her room. One had to give it to Gambit: He was an unrepentant crook, but he could charm his way out of anything if it came down to it. Now, Kitty was very, very sure she wasn't his type (let's just say he had a thing for gothic southern belles, hint hint), but that didn't stop him from flirting. It almost seemed like an involuntary reaction- it just oozed out through his pores.

After dinner and the (almost mandatory) subsequent scuffle between Jamie and Ray in the Rec Room, she continued acting as his unofficial tour guide, and led him back to professor Xavier's office, exchanging banter with him all the way. ("Let's be serious, Remy: you're a professional thief and you're telling me you didn't instantly take note of the layout of this place?" "Well, p'tite, I can allow myself to be a little absent-minded if it means I can spend time in pleasant company..."). She briefly wondered what he and the Professor had to discuss that couldn't wait until morning, but it wouldn't be the first time Xavier scheduled a meeting at night; maybe Remy was having nightmares, much like Kurt did a while back.

She shrugged off her curiosity as she entered her room; whatever it was, it was between Remy and the Professor.

Closing the door behind her she walked in, making sure not to say anything to her roommate, who was sitting on her bed with an Ann Rice book which she was most intently pretending to read, studiously trying to appear like she wasn't at all curious about what Kitty and a certain Cajun had talked about. With a mental snort, Kitty made her way to her own bed. As she was about to lay down she took notice of her history books, which were still lying there where she left them at around noon, and which she had never come back to after Kurt left.

That's when it hit her: she hadn't seen Kurt at dinner, had she?

"Hey, have you seen Kurt lately?" she asked, a small frown marring her brow. She couldn't decide if she should be angry at the elf for ditching her when he'd told her he would only be out for half an hour or so, or if she should be worried he hadn't made an appearance for their evening meal. Kurt never missed Ororo's special chicken pot pie, especially since Ororo always saved him an extra portion that would normally be Kitty's if she actually ate meat.

Rogue blinked at her, as if she had been expecting some sort of question, but not that one. Then, she shrugged. "I think I heard him scrummaging around in his room about an hour ago."

The younger brunette sighed, turning to look at the wall behind her bed. She was sorely tempted to just stick her head through it and check on him, but very early on she'd learned her lesson on phasing into people's rooms unannounced; it just wasn't polite.

(In fact, Kitty didn't know about this but Rogue had complained about the positioning of their rooms when she first came to the Institute- what guardian in their right state of mind would give a girl who could walk through walls a room right next to a boy who obviously had a crush on her? It was a moot point, though, since Kurt could teleport in, even if their rooms were on completely opposite sides of the mansion... and Kurt and Kitty never got together, so she let it go. They eventually learned that they should actually use the door instead, although it took Rogue threatening Kurt with severe bodily harm if he ever 'ported into their room at six in the bloody morning again, before he finally figured it out).

Resigned to having to walk all the way out again, Kitty headed to Kurt's room. The extra walking was good for toning her legs, she told herself. She knocked on his door once and got no answer. She paused for a couple of seconds before knocking again. "Kurt?" Still nothing, so she leaned her head against the door to see if she could catch any sound coming from inside. She heard some shuffling, and it was then that she decided that concern beat politeness and just poked her head through the door. "Kurt? You never came back to finish our report, you cheat," she started, trying to draw him out with a light quip.

She heard muttering that she couldn't really understand- probably German- and the lights were off so she had to squint to place him: he was sprawled on his bed, hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling dejectedly. His spaded tail hung off the edge of the bed closest to her, swinging unhappily from side to side. Too quiet Kurt, brooding in the dark? Not good. Downright unsettling, actually. "Hey. Are you okay?" she asked him, coming up to stand beside him.

He sighed, and if she knew him well at all (which she did), he was just about to tell her that he was fine, and she wasn't having it. "No, you are not okay," she told him in a firm tone. He had better night vision than she did, so she was sure he could see her glare. "You missed dinner. I'm beginning to wonder if we should expect a repeat visit from the Horsemen, and, like, that's saying a lot, since I'm Jewish." He desisted on his intent to come up with an excuse. She pushed at his shoulder so he would scoot over, took off her slippers, and sat beside him on the bed. He lifted himself up until his back was resting against the headboard, the fabric of his long sleeve tickling her arm. "So. What's wrong?"

For a moment he remained quiet, presumably trying to put his thoughts together. "...Can I ask you a question?" was his final choice of words, in a low, careful tone that seemed alien to someone as exuberant as him.

"Sure," she responded without a moment of doubt, wiggling her feet a little bit. Kurt's bed was tougher than hers, but his bed sheets were soft and sleek. Probably so his fur wouldn't catch on it, making it a nightmare to wash. Laundry day was enough of a mess without excess blue fuzz to get out of the sheets.

"When you and Lance broke up, was it... was it mutual?" he asked her, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

His question put her on alert: had something happened with Amanda? "Well," she started as she pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Yeah, pretty much," she admitted with a shrug. She laid her head against her knees, looking up at him. "I mean, it was sad, because I did care for him, and he did care for me. But after everything that happened with Mystique and Magneto and Apocalypse, he knew that staying here wouldn't get him anywhere."

She nodded, very lightly. "He really is an okay guy, even if he doesn't show it much. But... he's not really X-Men material either, is he?" Kurt snorted at that, and she made sure to elbow him for his cheek. "Don't. I accept that, you know. I wanted him to see that he's more than a thug, but I didn't want to change him either. He's good in his own way. But he couldn't be that here; not after everything that happened. He had to go somewhere people didn't know him as Avalanche, member of the Brotherhood of Mutants and flunky of Mystique and Magneto. So, he decided it would be better to head west."

She hugged her legs a little tighter. "It, like, never even crossed my mind to ask him not to go. I could never go with him; the Institute is my home. But I knew he needed this, so we decided to go our separate ways. It was for the best," she finished, with a shrug.

That last sentence made Kurt sigh. "For the best? Yeah, I got that speech today, too," he let her know, his tone somewhat bitter. Who would've thought Amanda and Lance could have such a thing in common? At Kitty's concerned look, he explained. "Amanda's going to Stanford in the fall."

Kitty felt for him. She knew he really liked Amanda, and she thought Amanda was a great girl; she wouldn't have wanted them to separate like this. "Did she break up with you?"

The boy nodded, some of his hair falling into his eyes, which he swatted away with the tip of his tail. "She said she still cares for me, but she has to do this," he added.

Breaking up with someone you liked never felt like a good thing; that, she knew. She took one of his hands in hers, twining her small, creamy-colored fingers into his three furred digits. Her hand was so small when compared to his, but if she could help him feel better at all, it didn't bother her. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. That really sucks."

He nodded, recognizing her sympathy, and gave her hand a quick squeeze. He was silent for a couple of minutes, until finally he shook his head. "I just..." He leaned his head back against the headboard for an instant, before turning to look at her directly since she came into the room. "Verdammt. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel," he admitted, crossing his left leg under his right as he leaned turned to her side. "Should I be happy that she's following her dream? Should I be angry that she broke up with me? Sad? What?" He let out a huff and leaned his free arm against the back wall, not entirely looking for an answer.

Kitty wasn't sure if she was the right person to give him romantic advice of any sort; she'd only had the one boyfriend, after all. But then again, she'd never heard him speak of any previous girlfriends either (and considering he didn't have his inducer before he came to the Institute and couldn't attend school, it was very likely this was his first relationship). She'd had at least a few months head start on him when it came to getting over heartache. "Probably all of the above," she let him know, giving him a small smile. "Look, you care about her, so it's understandable that you're happy she got this shot. And yet you had a good thing with her, so it makes sense you'll miss that. It's confusing, but that's the way it works." She shrugged. "And it'll get better eventually," she added. "I mean, look at Lance and I: we're friends. We write. A few weeks ago he was in South Dakota. I could show you some of his letters, if you want," she offered.

He chuckled in a most annoying fashion, which almost had her convinced she'd pulled him out of his funk. "No, thank you. I would rather not know what you two talk about."

She laughed, pretending to be offended. "Perv!" she exclaimed, giving him a light slap on the shoulder. He smirked. "But no, seriously. We're good now. Every once in a while, he writes to me and tells me what's going on in his life. Snail mail, not e-mail- it's kind of fun. Kinda makes me feel like I'm in a Victorian novel." She giggled.

That made him laugh, finally. "Only you, Keety," he quipped, shaking his head in amusement.

She winked at him. "See! That's the spirit." She put her hands on his shoulders, directing him to look straight at her, so he could see she meant everything she told him. "It'll get better." She leaned forward and hugged him tightly. "It'll be alright, Fuzzy. I promise."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him. "Danke, Katzchen," he told her, honestly feeling a lot better than he had in the last few hours. He didn't know how she did it, but she always could cheer him up. One wouldn't think that given the way the pair was always goofing around, but whenever he needed her, she could work magic. She was his best friend.

She gave him one last squeeze, and then let go, giving him an excited grin. "Right. So come on: you missed dinner and I think it's just the right time for a late-night snack."

"Are you going to feed me Rocky Road ice cream straight from the carton like girls do in movies when they have boy troubles?" He asked, impish, as she got off the bed and put her shoes back on. "Not that I would be opposed to that, of course," he added, with a shrug. Yep, that was her good old Kurt back.

"Actually, I was thinking of making some sandwiches," she told him, looking more like she was still pondering the idea.

She didn't miss the way his yellow eyes slightly widened, or the way he stopped in his tracks for a second while getting up off the bed. "Uh, maybe we should check to see if Frau Monroe saved me some of her delicious chicken pot pie, instead?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, come off it, Kurt! I am totally capable of making a decent PB&J sandwich if I want to." She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him as she always did when someone brought up that she was a bad cook. Uh oh, Pissed Kitty Pose (tm). And what was he just saying about her being magical? "It's just bread, peanut butter, and jelly. No way it can go wrong!" She finished, although Kurt personally thought that was tempting fate. He kept this to himself, though, as she extended her hand to him so he could teleport them both to the kitchen.

"And, um, ja, I agree, but don't you think it would be rude to let the food go to waste after she so generously saved it for me?" he tried to negotiate, grabbing the hand she was offering.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, puh-lease. You don't even know if she saved you anything yet..." The rest of their argument went unheard as with a BAMF, they both disappeared from the room, leaving behind only the usual cloud of smoke.

.

.

.

.

Scott forced his lips away from Jean's and looked urgently around the room, his breath heavy from making out with his girlfriend. "Did you hear that?" he asked her, anxious.

Jean hummed under her breath, barely even registering the question. "Hear what?" she asked sounding wholly unconcerned with it, considering her current position. She leaned in and started kissing his neck before he could even think of replying.

"It sounded like an explosion," he explained further, still looking around with a frown.

Was he whispering? Seriously? Every room in the mansion was soundproofed. She ran her hands up his torso, coming to his shoulders to try and push his shirt off. "It was probably just Kurt, 'porting to the kitchen," she reassured him, recognizing that he wouldn't let it go until she acknowledged hearing a noise. "Surely we haven't been away so long that you forgot he's always hungry?" Her reminder made little difference, though; he remained very still, almost stiff- and not in the way she wanted him to be, either. She sighed. "Scott?"

"Maybe we should go take a look," he suggested. And totally blew the moment.

Jean bristled. "Really, Scott? Are you telling me you can't get out of fearless leader mode even when your girlfriend's in your bed, half-naked, on top of you?" He stared back at her, she was sure in utter confusion, even though she couldn't see his eyes behind his glasses. Okay, that was it. She shook her head, exasperated, and pushed away from him, intending to get off the bed.

"...Wait, what?" was Scott's eloquent reaction, the fact that she was leaving only hitting him around the time she started picking up her clothes. "Jean..."

She was muttering under her breath as she struggled to put on her jeans. How undignified. "Ugh, men are so stupid," she told herself. He heard it, too, very clearly.

"Wait, Jean," he rushed to catch up to her as she grabbed her shirt to put it on. Grabbing her by her arm, he brought her close to him. "I'm sorry," he told her, bringing one hand up to cradle her face. He kissed her temple softly. "I'm an idiot, I know." He leaned in to kiss her lips very lightly, in a kind of silent apology. "I'm just... deathly paranoid that Logan is going to catch us in the act," he admitted.

She sighed. She could understand him to a point: this was rather new to them. Oh, they'd made out plenty around the Institute back when they first got together, but out of respect to the fact that they were still under the Professor's tutelage, they'd held off on intercourse until they were out of the mansion and college-bound. It felt odd now, to know that they'd be having sex just a couple doors away from the people who had raised them. People who, by the way, had enhanced senses and/or could read minds.

Still, they were adults now, and they loved each other, and this was only normal. "If he comes anywhere near this room, I'll be able to sense him," she assured him in a soft tone. She closed her eyes; he had one hand on her hip, the other one brushing against the small of her back, fingers lightly playing with the ends of her long, red hair. She loved it when he did that.

"I know that." He nuzzled and kissed her earlobe, tenderly. "But what if you're too distracted to notice?"

She laughed. "Wow. Confident, are we?" There was a glint in her eyes as she teased her hands around him, near the waist of his pants.

He chuckled. "Well, it has been a long time." And it had been: One whole month of separation. They both missed this, the intimacy. But most of all, they missed just being together. Talking, feeling that closeness, sharing moments- it just wasn't the same over the phone.

She had to kiss him. She brought him down so she could reach him, letting out a contented sigh as her lips met his. He deepened the kiss quickly, wrapping his arms fully around her so that she was pressing against him in all the right places. "So let's just stop worrying about everyone else and make the best of the fact that we're together," she told him as they wound down for a second, her lips grazing his as she spoke. Now she was breathing heavily, too.

He simply nodded and captured her lips again, more than eager to be with her. She pushed him toward the bed as he made quick work of the button of her jeans, her stepping out of them in turn. They were left on the floor again, but this time she was confident she'd only be putting them back on in the morning.

.

.

.

.

Remy had to admit he was feeling a little unnerved.

This was a strange thing, as Remy was so confident (some might call him overconfident) that very few things managed to phase him. Oh, he wasn't a stranger to outright fear, certainly, but it wasn't normal for him to feel this- this rising dread of sorts. It was odd.

Of course, this wasn't exactly a normal situation, either. It wasn't every day that he allowed a telepath to poke around in his mind, let alone one like Xavier. The man didn't even need telepathy to figure out things, he was sure. Professor X always had an air about him like he could see everything... like he knew everything.

That was unnerving.

Remy wasn't sure if this was supposed to be how these things worked, or maybe the fact that it was so late at night was making him feel even more on edge. He hadn't really paid much attention to what the Professor had explained to him about mind-reading- all he knew was that Xavier had started muttering something about mental barriers being weaker at night, and told him to meet him in his office at 11 pm. The long explanation was probably more for Summers' and Wolverine's benefit. They weren't thrilled about Remy staying in the mansion, let alone him meeting the Professor in private.

Now, Gambit had no problem with a nocturnal schedule. Given what he did for a living, being wide awake in the dead of night was practically a job requirement. He didn't feel any such "mental barriers" coming down, personally, but if that weird, creeping feeling was any indication, he'd say this mind-reading thing was working.

Normally, he wouldn't take this risk. But he needed Xavier to see what he had seen, so the X-Men could do something.

Who is that man, Mr. LeBeau...?

Remy was remembering a scene from long ago: A man wearing a long, dark coat and a black, wide-brimmed fedora, his features shadowed by the vegetation of the bayou, walking up to his house, with a younger Gambit, looking barely into his teens, looking on from the window of his room. The man had called himself Nathaniel Essex, but Remy was sure that wasn't his real name, because Jean-Luc had checked him out when he first contacted the Guild, and couldn't find anything on him.

The man had intended to hire the Thieves' Guild to find someone for him. However, he arrived at a rather tumultuous time for the group, as Remy's bio-kinetic powers had recently activated, and were out of control. Essex took advantage of that: he was a scientist- a doctor of some sort, and interested in the X gene and the effect it had on its recipients. He offered to study Remy for a period of time, and try to find a way to eliminate this ability that was endangering the boy and everybody around him. Jean-Luc and the rest of the Guild jumped at the opportunity.

Remy never got a good look at the guy; he was too out of it by then to notice much. Essex had him moved to some sort of dark laboratory- it may have been underground, he wasn't sure. He had tried to look for the place afterwards, but never found it again. Inside the laboratory there was a containment chamber where he was kept for months, heavily sedated, while Essex studied his blood, his tissue, his brainwaves, trying to find a way to selectively remove his bio-kinetic ability. His only contact with the outside world was a woman named Faye Mueller, who was apparently Essex' assistant; she was the one who would come in and feed him, move him around so his muscles wouldn't atrophy due to inactivity.

After about three months, Essex presented Jean-Luc with a solution to Remy's problem: He'd managed to localize the area of the brain which controlled Remy's powers. He would perform a complex brain surgery on the young man, which would eliminate his newest ability. Jean-Luc, fearing for his adoptive son's life, agreed. Next thing Remy knew, he still had the ability, but he could control his power perfectly.

He didn't find out about this until much later, but Essex had not been satisfied with that. His intention had been to completely eliminate Remy's bio-kinetic abilities, but he'd made a mistake, apparently. He demanded they let him study Remy further; Jean-Luc refused, threatening Essex' life if he ever tried anything else on Remy. Essex, being a regular human with no abilities to go against the whole of the Thieves' Guild, relented, but as payment for saving the boy's life, he requested that the Guild attend to his original request: finding an elusive group of mutants with isolating physical mutations, which he desired to study.

Gambit himself was sent out on this mission, once he'd recovered from the operation. He traveled all over the country, gathering information from his underground contacts. It took him almost two years to find what that man was looking for, but he did, and with that he fulfilled the Guild's responsibility on the Essex matter.

As he returned to New Orleans, he got in contact with Faye Mueller, to let her know what he had found; she was his only contact with Essex, as the man seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth. When he saw her again after those few years, he saw a different woman altogether. Not physically, but psychologically: something had happened... there was something wrong with her.

When he told her where these mutants were, she remained silent for a few seconds, staring off into space like she wasn't quite there. After about a minute, she calmly typed the information into a computer, hit enter, and shut it down. Then she turned to Remy with a serene smile. "He's going to kill them, you know?"

Remy was shocked into silence. He was not expecting her to say that. He didn't really believe her at the moment; the woman clearly had to be crazy, but how could one respond to that, either way? He was still debating this when he saw her move to open a drawer on her desk. She pulled out a handgun, put the barrel to her mouth and pulled the trigger.

He had never seen so much blood in his life.

A shell-shocked Remy made his way to his father, and explained what had happened. Jean-Luc decided it was best if they remained uninvolved with Essex from now on; everything related to that man was crazy, and dangerous, and Remy very much agreed with his father on that. What Remy did not agree with, was the fact that his father had allowed Essex to experiment on him. He had found out about it by accident, really, but he didn't like it one bit. Despite Jean-Luc's argument that it was the only viable option at the time to save Remy's life, he wasn't buying it. And when Jean-Luc revealed that Essex had displayed some interest in further experiments on his mutation, that was the straw that broke the camel's back for Remy; within two days, he was out of New Orleans and out of the Thieves' Guild forever.

After having learned the truth, Remy started seeing Essex everywhere. He convinced himself that he was simply paranoid; after all, he was not one to be unnerved easily. But the image of the coat and hat among the shadows stayed with him, and would be branded in his mind for the rest of his life.

"It was one of the reasons I started working for Magneto, actually," Remy admitted, once Xavier had stepped out of his mind. "Well, no, mostly it was the fact that the pay was good," he corrected, with a shrug and a smirk. "But some part of me figured if I was working for someone so powerful, there was no way Essex would come near me."

But this time... maybe his paranoia had grown rampant because he was in New York, or maybe he had just gone completely 'round the bend, but this time he was sure he'd actually seen the crazy scientist in the flesh. And the only person he knew who could confirm this was Charles Xavier.

"So? Was it him, or am I hallucinating?"

Xavier was silent, examining his thoughts for a few stretching minutes. Remy grew even more uncomfortable under the scrutiny, if that was possible. Finally, the telepath came to a conclusion. "I believe you believe you really did see him, Mr. LeBeau."

Remy groaned. "So you don't know, either."

The Professor shook his head. "When it comes to memories, there is no certainty. The human brain is very good at convincing itself that a lie is the truth." He rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair and pondered, his expression hidden behind his hands. "However, I do believe it is something we should look into. If there is any truth to this, and this man, Nathaniel Essex, is looking to harm this group of mutants, then the X-Men must definitely take action against him." He looked at Remy and tried to offer him a supportive smile. "In the meantime, Remy, please go ahead and rest for the night. The upcoming days are going to be busy with one event or the other. You can think of this mansion as your new home."

Remy nodded, got up, and headed for the door. He dreaded that word, "home." Thieves don't really have homes, they don't have roots, they're people of the streets; the closest he had was New Orleans, and his own home had betrayed him. But he knew that Xavier meant that he'd be hanging around the X-Men for a while... he was the only one who had any information on Essex, and they were going to need him in order to find the sicko.

He wished he could just run away from it all. He didn't need to be involved in this; he didn't have to care what happened to other mutants so long as he walked out of it unscathed. However, after the whole ordeal with Magneto, Apocalypse, working with the X-Men... these people had changed him. He didn't know when or how it happened, but he had started to care. And now he couldn't just up and leave, like he would have just a few years previous.

He was about to open the door when he heard Xavier call on him again. "Mr. LeBeau?" Remy turned to look at him, hand still on the doorknob. "Who were these mutants Essex was looking for?"

Remy shifted his weight to one leg as he turned fully to the Professor. "They're called the Morlocks."

.

.

.

.

Author's notes!- Dun dun dun! Look, it's plot! xD No answers to the questions posed last chapter, not really, but all I can say is: if you've read the comics and you recognize the name "Nathaniel Essex," you probably have an idea where I'm going with this. ;) In fact, if you recognize any of the new characters, be sure to let me know! Hint: one of them has a name compounded from two comic characters.

For the record, Essex would normally wear a top hat instead of a fedora, but I decided to give him something different because I thought a top hat would be a little too lulzy.

Any similarity between Deena Giaomozzo and the actual current representative of the 18th Legislative District in the County Legislature of Nassau County is purely coincidental. Okay, maybe not completely- I did intend to make their names at least sound somewhat alike, but apart from that, everything is coincidental. I don't know anything about Diane Yatauro or her stand on racism of any kind, so don't get me in trouble over a fanfic, now. Not my fault Bayville just happens to be in her Legislature.

If you notice a big stylistic difference between the first two scenes and the rest of the chapter, that's because the first two scenes were written literally like three years ago. I could re-do them and make them better, but I have a soft spot for them, so I won't. And good thing for you, because that meant you didn't have to wait any longer to see this chapter! =P

Let us hope this bout of inspiration sticks. After not writing anything for this fic in years, I'm ecstatic to have finished this chapter. See? I don't abandon my fics! x3 Hopefully it won't take me as long to finish chapter 3. See you guys when I see you!