'The world we live in is ever changing. Time changes, seasons change, people, animals, plants, landscapes all steadily changing from one day to the next. Nothing ever stays the same. Even the highest mountain, inhabiting the sky for millennia, is subject to change by the smallest of things, water. Frost boroughs down into crevasses, chipping away at the surface, changing what once seemed so solid forever more. Sometimes change takes centuries, millenniums, slowly morphing from one thing to the next. But sometimes what should take an age happens in an instant, changing the world as we know it irreversibly and causing mass panic. Such is the mutant phenomena.

'Seemingly overnight thousands of people with astonishing powers appeared across the globe. A child in Africa who could outpace the wind. A man on Mur Island with the appearance of an angel. But, human nature is flawed and what humans do not understand, they fear…'

Chapter One

Somewhere over New York

December 20 18:24

'Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention please. I regret to inform you that due to the sudden snow fall the runways are still blocked despite the landing crew's best efforts to clear them. However, I've been informed that they will be cleared soon and we hope to be touching down sometime in the next half hour.' A unanimous sigh of frustration filled the plane's crowded cabin as the pilot's voice cut out with a slight crackle. Soon the normal hum of mundane conversation picked up, people conversing not necessarily because they wanted to but purely because at 4000 feet, there was nothing better to do.

The American Air Bowing 747 flying from Toronto to JFK airport had been circling New York for the past hour though, with the practical blizzard going on outside, most passengers were just happy the flight hadn't been diverted. As the plane gently turned for yet another pass over Liberty Island, absurdly dressed air hostesses teetered down the crammed isles, offering drinks and apologetic smiles. Wanda stared out of the frosty window to the vast city below, a hazy black landscape of lights that stretched up into the sky. The statue of Liberty was barely visible to the left; it's newly restored torch blazing in the darkness. The damage from what some called 'a savage mutant attack on the land of freedom' was gone, having been repaired in the eight months that had passed since the incident.

As the heights of Manhattan went by, giving way to Brooklyn, Wanda's attention was reluctantly drawn to the constant stream of noise upheld by the obese businessman to her left. He wore a grey suit stretched over his bulk of a stomach with old stains on his shirt and half undone tie not to mention a few strands of lanky hair on his shoulders which had abandoned the sparse group covering his balding scalp. He seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he'd had his flabby elbow jammed in Wanda's side for the entire flight. Or the fact that two people had to talk to make it a conversation. You'd think that if you had blatantly ignored someone for two hours they'd take the hint, you'd think. Wanda had half a mind to gag him with his seat belt. His mouth moved to the rhythm of a series of grunts and belches, accompanied by a smell that was foul if not unholy. Despite her best efforts in the beginning to understand a sentence or two just so she'd know when to scowl or glare, none of it made any sense. There was a vague fragment here and there -"What are ya? snort Some sorta goth or something?"- but on the whole large primates had a better grasp of the English language.

"Miss?" Wanda looked up into a face plastered in orange foundation and blue eye shadow that looked as if it had been applied in the dark. "Can I get you anything?" The airhostess smiled though it never reached her eyes which told a story of snotty nosed brats and angry passengers.

"No…thanks." Wanda added the last as an after thought. She figured the woman had taken enough abuse for the day without Wanda adding her share. The airhostess blinked through a mass of tarantula-esk eyelashes before moving on, though not before Wanda's travelling companion gave her a full armed slap on her ass. The woman merely grimaced as she continued down the isle. Wanda sighed, picking up the battered book that lay open on her lap where her mind had started to wonder. After turning a couple of pages she realised that not a single word had registered in her head so she backtracked and started anew. Minutes passed, an announcement was made that they would soon be landing and before long they touched down on the runway.

Stepping out of the plane's stifling atmosphere which reeked of stale sweat was heaven. Wanda couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as she walked down the confined tunnel to the arrivals gate and the spacious airport beyond. People milled around behind scant barriers, welcoming loved ones who exited the terminal. From the corner of her eye Wanda made out her travelling companion being led away by airport security, the airhostess he'd harassed throughout the flight walking alongside them, a stern expression on her face.

"At least something's right in the world." Wanda mused to herself as she started away from the arrivals gate. No one was coming to meet her. Heels clicking against the polished floors as she walked, she pulled her black, wool trench coat tighter around her frame and had donned a set of red leather gloves before she exited into the snow filled night. Filed out in front of the pavement was an endless row of cabs, yellow paint barely peaking out from the slush that covered their hoods as wipers worked over time to ensure drivers could see out of their windows. Pulling up the hood of her coat, Wanda started for the nearest parking lot. Cabs cost money and she had spent most of hers just getting there.

Despite her hood, strands of her black hair still whipped furiously around her face obscuring her vision as she entered the desolate car park. The wind howled, icy gusts sending shivers up her spine as she rubbed her hands together in a vain attempt to keep them warm. "Screw this." Her breath came out in an icy puff as she thrust her hands in front of her, making quicker progress through the rows of buried cars. To any casual observer it might have seemed the four inch deep snow cleared a path before her of its own accord. But there was no one around to see her and, even if there were, they wouldn't see anything with the snow coming down as it was.

Even buried beneath a crisp, white mountain, one car called to Wanda and she hurriedly made her way to it, eager to be out of the cold. Clearing the window without touching the glass she glanced inside and knew she'd hit the jackpot. The car was decked out with a full leather interior, the steering wheel proudly displaying a silver jaguar logo. Pressing her gloved hand against the keyhole, she concentrated for a moment and the door popped open. Wanda jumped back to avoid it hitting her, a huge sheet of ice sliding from it to the ground below. Ducking in quickly, she slammed the door behind her before setting her black, over-the-shoulder back on the seat beside her. After placing her hands on the dashboard, the car dramatically rumbled to life, bringing with it a cool rush of air from the air conditioner which soon warmed up as it spread throughout the cars interior.

Adjusting the rear view mirror to face her she studied her flushed red cheeks and coal rimmed brown eyes before turning it back. There was little she could do about her travel worn appearance and in any case, he would just have to accept her as she was. After giving one last sigh over the fact she resembled an embarrassed racoon, the car started moving, snow that previously encased the hood falling away in great heaps to the ground.

"Shit, you got to be kidding me." Wanda exclaimed in dismay, a patch of lime green paint stunningly visible through the front window. "What kind of sicko buys a lime green jag?" She exclaimed in disgust. Deciding it was too late to bother with getting a different car, she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the icy road, keeping her hands on the wheel purely for show. It wouldn't do to be found out as a mutant now. The slush filled highway was jammed with cars for as far as she could see and after a while she turned on the radio, horror overwhelming her as Fifty Cents 'In Da Club' blared out from a huge set of speakers in the trunk which caused the car to vibrate. "Great, I picked the pimp mobile." Wanda grimaced, lowering the volume and switching it to something just a tad more bearable, namely The Killers. Up ahead, past the variable sea of cars, snow ploughs worked to clear the highway, yellow lights swirling as the queue inched on.

West Chester, New York

21:15

Racing along the roads of the sedate, suburban area that was West Chester, the car screeched, skidding as it turned the corner, barely slowing. It was a nightmare on wheels, a traffic accident waiting to happen, a bat out of hell. It was Wanda. The cosy, three storied houses complete with the stars and stripes of American flags that flapped dully in the heavy breeze and white picket fences went by in a blur as Wanda concentrated on the road, trying not to veer onto the snow covered sidewalk.

The lime green Jag careered along the ice riddled roads, finally entering a long stretch bordered on both sides by tall, snow covered hedges with, unsurprisingly to her, a row of gleaming black spikes poking out from the top. Turning the car sharply, she came to an abrupt halt in front of a pair of large cast iron gates. They bared the entrance to a narrow driveway that disappeared into darkness. On either side were square pillars that the gates were attached to, the one to Wanda's right held an oval shaped, gold coloured plaque proclaiming this 'Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters'.

With a scowl, Wanda flung the car door open and hurried out into the freezing air, goose pimples erupting on her skin. She headed first for the left pillar atop which was a small surveillance camera and below that, around head height a grey com-box. The camera was the first to go a she waved a hand in the pillar's direction, plummeting to the ground as metal fuzzed and twisted, disappearing into the snow in a mass of sparks. The com-box followed suit, its demise just as abrupt as it vanished below the pillar. Wanda's hands took on a faint ruby glow as she sighed, bringing them together in front of her before, she slowly parted them, the iron gates rattling on their hinges before wrenching themselves away altogether, flinging themselves to become imbedded in the hedges. With a slight smile Wanda re-entered the car which started down the gloomy driveway. The sun having set hours ago, Wanda could barely make anything out despite the dim illumination from the headlights. There was, however, a single tire tread imprinted in the middle of the fresh snow that covered the driveway. Wanda had to firmly banish the idea of a certain English professor on a Harley, bald head glinting in the moonlight.

A soft chuckle turned into wide-eyed wonder as the hedges ended abruptly, giving way to a huge circular front yard covered in snowfall with what she vaguely guessed was a fountain at its centre. The driveway bordered its outer edge, leading to a three story Georgian mansion which loomed up ahead. She left the car a few feet in front of the main door, bracing herself before leaving its warmth for a second time, not that she was in anyway prepared for the icy chill that caressed her cheeks and fluttered along her spine. After a last look at the front yard, the moonlight bathed snow shining; she hurried up to the dark wood, double doors. On the brink of grasping the huge black knocker, she stopped herself; her gloved finger tips an inch from its gleaming surface. What was the point of coming all this way and not making an entrance?

The wind started to howl as Wanda's hands took on a glow, first a soft ruby which soon developed into an intense crimson that illuminated the doorway. She took a deep breath, inhaling snow flakes which melted on her tongue, before the doors exploded into the front hallway, blown clean off their hinges. Shards of plaster, splinters and twinkling fragments of glass swirled in the air as -in perfect synchronicity- the doors hit the partially carpeted entranceway with a thump. The brass door knocker gave a clang as it caught up with the half fixed to the door. Wanda gave a small smile of satisfaction as she pulled down her hood. It would do.

"Hello." Wanda called out, stepping over the destruction scattered over the floor of the deserted entrance hall. She glanced around. Leading directly off the entrance way was what looked to be a library, huge book shelves lining the room's walls, and hurrying out of it were two women. The one who looked to be the older of the two moved to the left side of the fireplace. Although she could have only been in her early thirties at most, she sported freakishly white hair which contrasted heavily with dark tan skin. The younger, who had stayed to the right of the fireplace, also possessed white in her auburn tresses but this was confined to a streak at the front. Maybe white was the new black, Wanda mused.

Both surveyed the decimation of the entrance hall with varied degrees of shock. The older, dressed in a dark cream turtleneck and jeans hardly changed her expression aside from a barely there widening of her eyes. Whereas, the younger, in a long sleeved V-necked green top and brown suede skirt with matching knee length boots was slack jawed as she stared at the giant, gapping hole where the front doors used to be.

"Who are you?" The older inquired sharply, her accent a blend of American and something Wanda couldn't quite place. "Why exactly do you think you have the right to destroy a part of our home?" Wanda sighed, adjusting her tight fitting, red leather gloves.

"Look Thelma, Louise, there are two ways we can do this. Either we all play happy families and you tell me where Xavier is or…" Wanda slowly walked over to one of the tables, picking up a bronze statue of a woman clothed in flowing robes and holding a sphere aloft. "…or I kick both your sorry asses and force you to tell me." She put down the statue and walked back to the centre of the room. "It's up to you."

"What makes you think you'll even be able to touch us?" The older asked her head cocked to the side as her brown eyes started to cloud over till they showed white all the way round. Wanda smirked.

"I was hoping you'd ask." The younger of the two -having removed the brown glove from her right hand- started towards Wanda. The other took a step forward than hesitated. Wanda's hands glowed crimson. Two feet before she reached Wanda, the younger was swept away by a wall side table, Wanda moving her hand till the girl was pinned against the wood panelling. She struggled in vain to get free as the chandelier started to shake violently. Paintings, one of a garden in autumn painted in the style of Monet, flew off the wall to join the spinning masses of statuettes, vases and any number of other decorative objects that whirled through the air. To Wanda's right, a large crack crept up the wall as the flattened double doors rumbled noisily against the trembling floor. The older woman looked thoroughly unimpressed.

"Is that all?" She taunted her eyes devoid of colour. Wanda suddenly had the wind knocked out of her as an icy gust blew in from the monumental hole leading to the outside of the mansion. It penetrated the layers of clothing she had on like a knife through butter. One by one the objects whizzing through the air dropped, thudding on the polished floors or -in the case of the more fragile objects- shattering as Wanda lost focus. Despite labouring against the blizzard swirling around her, Wanda's legs were forced tight together, her arms pinned at her sides. The woman approached, sensing her seemingly inevitable victory. Wanda could barely breathe, each breath an icy dagger slashing her throat. The cold stinging her eyes, she was lifted four feet off the ground parallel to the weather witch raising her hands. "Now, what was it you were saying?" She inquired, her voice drenched in smug satisfaction.

"No…no way…am I going….going to be upstaged b-by…by…some p-pre-Madonna with a bad…bad d-dye job." Wanda had to force the words out through chattering teeth. It took all of her strength to pull her right arm and inch from her suspended body. Battling to keep it there, the crimson haze enveloped her hand once more. A Persian blue and red runner that stretched from one doorway to another started to ripple before it rose off the ground to soar through the air. It caught the woman off guard, her face overwhelmed with a look of terror as it wrapped itself around her. Wanda dropped from the air abruptly though still managed to force a tall lamp that had been previously knocked over in the chaos to roll across the floor, snaking itself around the woman's torso. Sighing, she picked herself off the floor then proceeded to brush stray strands of hair from her eyes.

"Hey kid, need any help?" A tall, dark haired man that despite the season wore only a scraggly, dark blue t-shirt and jeans over cowboy boots appeared from the corridor opposite the library. Despite the biting chill and the destruction he didn't seem phased in the slightest.

"It's about time yeh got here." The young woman –who'd managed to pry herself free when the weather witch had momentarily impeded Wanda's concentration-responded.

"Get Ororo." He tilted his head towards the trapped woman, who was freaking out, thrashing against her confines in a futile attempt to escape. A shrill scream was partially muffled by the rug. "I'll take care of our unwanted guest." He gave Wanda a glare which she returned coldly.

"You sure about that, pretty boy?" Winters heart was warmer than her voice. "You don't look anything special."

"Bring it on, Bub." He growled, crossing his hand over his chest. Without warning six, foot long, steel blades, three on either hand, shot out to the combined sound of ripping flesh and metal grinding. Wanda suppressed a slight shudder. They glinted dangerously in the firelight as he took up a stance a few feet in front of the fireplace, hands at chest level, feet spaced a metre apart. Maybe he did look just a little menacing. Just a little. Without a second thought Wanda's hands became fully immersed in the pulsing crimson glow before she finally responded to the imposing man's previous request.

"If you insist." She jeered. The immense chandelier, already looking a little worse for wear, began to tinkle softly. Wanda gradually raised her hands before dropping them swiftly causing the chandelier to be violently wrenched from its fittings. The room was plummeted into shadow, the only light present coming from the fireplace. Despite the uproar, the flames had yet to be extinguished. Leisurely raising her hands a second time caused the chandelier to rotate gently, the prisms still chiming as they knocked against one another. The man's dark eyes were fixated on the rotating glass prisms glittering in the pale illumination cast by the fire. Still rotating, the prisms started to detach themselves from their settings like petals being plucked from a flower till they were slowly dancing around the naked frame of the chandelier which now only held a few pitiful light bulbs.

All of a sudden, Wanda jerked her right hand down causing half the prisms to fly at the tall stranger. He dived forward, narrowly avoiding them before they smashed against the back of the fireplace. They were soon replaced as Wanda brought her hand down once more but, just as before, he managed to avoid them. Time and again Wanda sent the small, glass projectiles hurtling towards him yet each time he managed to avoid being hit by less than a hair's breath. Worse, he was getting closer. A last ditch effort amounted to naught as the remainder of the glass prisms smashed against the dark wood panelling, missing the man by millimetres as he dashed the last two metres to stand behind Wanda, a muscular arm wrapping round her shoulders as cold steel met the flesh of her neck.

"Don't you dare make a move or I swear I'll slit that pretty throat of yours." He whispered huskily next to her ear, his hot breath warming her flushed cheek. "Rogue," He addressed the girl leaning over the encased woman. "How's Ororo?"

"Ah can't get her out, Logan." Her tone was desperate. "Deh lamp's fused right roun'." Another shrill scream emanated from the confines of the rug. "Ah need help."

"Kinda busy, kid." He gripped Wanda closer to his chest, her eyes widening as the blades shifted slightly a bare centimetre from her jugular. Despite the man's earlier exertion his torso rose and fell steadily, matching his breath against Wanda's ear. The only hint that he had strained himself in the slightest was the hint of sweat under the nearly overwhelming scent of his aftershave.

"Ah know, but Ororo hates confined spaces an' if we don' get her outta there she's gonna lose it!" He growled.

"Alright, listen up, missy." Wanda assumed he was addressing her. "You're gonna get her out or you ain't gonna live to see the next five minutes. Got it?"

"I need my hands free." Wanda stated shortly, hardly daring to breathe in case the blades inadvertently sliced into her neck. The man must have looked reluctant because the girl said:

"Jus' do it, Logan." After a tense moment he loosened his constricting grip around Wanda's shoulders and she shrugged his other hand off, attempting to ignore the sharp blades which still glinted hazardously. Swathed in shadows, the man trailed her as she took a few unhurried steps toward the imprisoned woman, glass crunching beneath the heels of Wanda's red leather boots. Half way there, Wanda paused and, turning to the man –who she had to admit in the right light was rather attractive- smirked.

"Bad move." He didn't have time to react as a still intact urn crashed into his midriff, sending him flying. He hit one of the dark wood, double doors with a dull thud. Wanda whipped her hands up, sending both him and the door hurtling towards the ceiling with a wumpf of air and a slight sucking sound. She whisked round to face the girl, the only member of their three person team still uninhibited. "No one is going to help you any more so I suggest you do the smart thing and tell me where Xavier is or else you'll end up like your friends." The younger woman glared fiercely at her.

"Ah don' know where deh professor is."

"He's here, isn't he?" Wanda ignored her statement, glancing towards the stairs leading to the first floor. "Xavier." She shouted. There was silence apart from a whimpering from the rug and the sound of steel clawing into plaster. "Xavier." Wanda repeated, this time louder. "I know you can hear me." Silence. "Charles!" She screamed, the house trembling, the sparse glass left in the smashed windows falling to shatter on the ground.

"Wanda! That is quite enough!" A stern voice with a British accent originated from behind her. Wanda spun on her heel to face him.

"Xavier." She cooed, addressing the well dressed man in a sleek, steel wheelchair. Behind him to one side stood a man covered in a long, black coat that shimmered in the firelight, his hood concealing his face in shadows. "I wasn't sure you'd recognise me seeing as it's been what? Almost sixteen years?"

"Wanda, release Ororo." It was a command, not a request. Wanda gave him a glare that would have curdled milk.

"Why should I? She attacked me!"

"She was merely protecting her home and you know that. Now release her." After a moment Wanda rolled her eyes and waved a faintly glowing hand in the woman's direction, causing the lamp to straighten itself, screeching as it did. The young woman barely had time to unroll the carpet before the older struggled free, coughing and rasping, her clothes in disarray, her white hair a dishevelled mess. "Now Logan." Xavier commanded.

"Sure." She grinned evilly.

"Wanda!" Xavier chided as the door and its passenger plummeted suddenly, halting a foot off the ground.

"Oh, you're no fun, Charles. Not that you ever were." Wanda sighed as Logan stood up, cracking either side of his neck as the foot long blades slipped back under his skin, the marks they left between his knuckles fading almost instantly. As soon as he'd put both feet back on the ground, the previously suspended door slammed against the floor of the partially carpeted entranceway, cold air gusting through the room. Logan gave a quick glance back before curling his lip in a snarl. Wanda icily regarded him for a moment but said nothing.

"Why are you here, Wanda?" Xavier moved forward, unfazed by her outward show of hostility.

"Don't play dumb, Charles." She quipped. "It doesn't suit you, especially when you know exactly why I'm here."

"Woah…" A blond haired youth who'd just entered through the barren doorway exclaimed. Dressed in a grey jacket and jeans, he was approximately the same age as the girl who, at that particular moment, stood comforting the older woman whilst glaring at him. "What happened?"

"Bobby!" She hissed, frantically motioning with her free hand for him to shut up. He gave her a slightly sullen look but failed to utter another word.

"Look, Charles, I couldn't care less about your X-men." She spat the word out as if it left a vile taste in her mouth. "You know what I want and you're going to give it to me. You owe me that much." After taking a deep breath Xavier nodded reluctantly.

"But no more of these antics, Wanda." She shook her head slightly, a twinkle in her large, brown eyes.

"I was just doing them a favour," Her read lips quirked in a half smile. "It's obvious they need the practise." The professor ignored her comment though Logan and the weather witch looked about ready to ring her neck.

"Rogue, help Ororo to her room and Logan, get Peter to help you with the doors. We'll have to see about the windows tomorrow. Wanda, Bobby will show you to my study. Now, Kurt, if you wouldn't mind?" Upon address, the man in the dark coat moved directly behind Xavier, taking hold of the wheelchair as they both vanished in a puff of pale blue smoke. Wanda was left along in the entranceway with four of them.

"So, you're the X-men." She stated, casually removing her red, leather gloves, finger by delicate finger. "I'm quite disappointed to say the least. The way you've been praised on television I figured it might be at least somewhat challenging to break into the mansion. Yet what happens when I get here? You give me a lot of attitude with nothing to back it up. Pathetic really." She finished, tucking the gloves into one pocket before brushing debris from her shoulders.

"Logan." The girl called as he started towards Wanda. He hesitated a moment before exiting the entrance hall via one of the corridors leading off from it.

"You gonna be okay be okay getting Ororo upstairs?" The young man asked the girl.

"Ah'll be fine." She nodded, slipping the woman's arm around her shoulders

"Hey, Skippy." Wanda addressed him. "I don't have all day." He grimaced, cast one last look at the girl and started for a short set of stairs with an iron railing cast in shapes of creeping vines sprouting lush leaves. Wanda gave both the girl and the older woman a sly smile before following him, catching up in a long corridor, door after door lining the sandy papered walls.

A row of lights hanging from the arched ceiling was reflected in the highly polished floor, its dark wood matched by that of the panels and square pillars that covered a considerable amount of the wall space as well as the window frames, display cabinets, chairs and small tables that lined the corridor. As with the entrance, tall white urns embellished in blue stood to either sides of most of the double doorways and on each table was placed a white lamp, a chair upholstered in pale blue to the side. In fact, the only thing that wasn't blue, white or dark brown were the small, flowing plants scattered on just about every other table.

Not far down the corridor they came to a waiting area that branched out from the corridor, a large stairway opposite. It was decorated in the same style as the rest of the hallway, white couches spaced here and there, a large window looking out into the black sky. They stopped, the boy –well, man really, but he had a constant boyish twinkle in his ice blue eyes- turned to her.

"What did we do to you?" He glared at her defiantly.

"You're the X-Men." She replied. "That's more than enough."

"Not for me. Not for any of us." The boy stood as if to block her path, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'd think twice before doing anything, Skippy. If your friends couldn't stop me I don't see how there's a chance in hell you'll be able to."

"I'll do what I have to." A sudden chill filled the already brisk air making Wanda's skin erupt in goose bumps all over again. The boyish twinkle was replaced by a dangerous glint. Wanda's breath came out in an icy puff yet the boy seemed unfazed by the sudden drop in temperature. She copied his stance, crossing her arms beneath her breasts whilst tilting her head to the side.

"Look kid, I'm not gonna fight you. The fact is you're pretty brave for standing up to me when it's obvious you're not my match. But that will only get you so far. Now move." He didn't even blink. "Move." Sighing before dropping his arms he turned, walking to a door that one might not have noticed if they weren't looking for it and twisted the handle before pushing it open. Slipping past him, Wanda entered Xavier's study, the boy shutting the door the moment she was inside.

The décor of the room matched that of the hallway. Nearest to Wanda a set of cube shaped, white couches were arranged around a circular, glass coffee table and to either side of her stood a pedestal, the one to her left displaying an odd diamond sculpture which appeared to be made from pine, the one to her right a statue of a reclining nude, the woman's gaze fixed upwards. Beyond the glass table, a desk was situated on the pale blue carpet in the middle of an arc of windows, a chair with blue upholstery embroidered in vines situated on her side of it. It was the perfect example of tasteful decadence, not that she'd expect anything less from Charles Xavier. The man himself was in front of the large, white framed windows, the glass of which was coated in condensation, so much so that she couldn't have even begun to guess what he was staring at so intensely.

"Please Wanda, come in and sit down." He let go of the filmy curtain he was holding and spun to face her, the mechanics in his wheelchair whirring as he did. His demeanour was somewhat warmer than it had been a few minutes previous. Don't worry Charles; I'm not planning on staying long." She walked forward a few steps, stopping well short of the desk. "All I want is for you to tell me where my…" She hesitated. "…my father is and I'll be more than happy to leave." The mechanics hummed again as he came to sit behind the desk, sighing.

"Wanda, what would you do if you found your father?"

"That's none of your business Charles, but I think you could make an educated guess."

"That is precisely why I have my reservations about helping you, even though Erik deserves whatever it is you might feel the need to do to him, no matter how unpleasant."

"If you think it's because he's too powerful for me to handle than-"

"No, that's not it." He sighed again. "The simple truth is that I cannot find him. You see, Erik long ago developed ways of shielding himself from my abilities and the last time I saw him was over five months ago. After that he simply…vanished." He took a deep breath.

"That's just not good enough." Wanda snapped.

"My dear, listen-"

"No! You listen!" She cut him off, the glow around her hands washing the room in crimson light. "Because of him, my mother died alone. Because of him, my brother and I were taken away from parents who actually loved us and instead got a father who was never there." Wanda's tone was flooded with bitterness. The walls started to shake, the diamond structure hitting the floor with a thump. "Because of him, I was imprisoned in an institution for fourteen years, most of that time spent in solitary confinement. I was scared and alone and no one was there for me!" She was shouting now.

A sudden puff of pale blue smoke announced the arrival of the darkly clad figure from earlier, a steaming pot in one of his blue, three fingered hands. "Leave!" Wanda flung a hand out and he disappeared before one of the heavy, blue padded chairs collided with his head. "And out of everyone I knew I could trust you to dissuade him from his madness! To convince him not to put me there! But you just helped him!" A bookstand fell over, as did the pedestal holding the statue of the reclining woman, carrying the statue down with it. "For all of your teachings about equality and acceptance I was shunned as yours and my father's dirty little secret!" A milk jug on a small table to the right cracked, spilling its contains across the table top.

"I was forgotten! Nobody cared!" A pane of glass in the window shattered, others trembling furiously. "Nobody…nobody…" Wanda trailed off. Her mind felt fogy all of a sudden, her words lost as she tried to remain vertical. "What…what are you doing to me?" She managed to get out, a hand pressed to her head as she swayed slightly. "St…stop using…your…" Xavier's eyes were closed, one hand on his temple, the other outstretched towards her. "Charles please, not…not again…" Wanda's eyelids felt as if they were being dragged down, her knees buckled beneath her. "I won't…I…won't go back there…"She pushed herself onto her hands but her arms felt like toothpicks and she knew it wouldn't be long before she lost conciseness. "Please…" It was barely a whisper as everything went black.

A.N. Please read! You only have to do it once! And I'll give you cookies!

K, the reason I'm writing this fic is for two reasons 1) I have not been able to find a single decent X-Men movie fanfic cus the people who seem to be writing them are just those have seen the film once or twice and thought it would be a good idea to write a fic. It was not. You need to have at least a vague knowledge of the history of the x-men to rely on which very few writers seem to posses. As I think the movies were half decent adaptations (and Hugh Jackman is hot wipes drool from mouth) I've decided to write a possible sequel. Reason 2) WHERE THE FUCK IS REMY! Bryan Singer just happened leave out potential the hottest character and now writers are paring Rogue with Logan (NO! IT IS WRONG! He's far too old!) or Bobby (lame) when he should know that Remy and Rogue are destined to be together (yes, I am a hopeless romantic) and he should NOT fuck with it. breathes deeply. Okay, so if you need a visual about Wanda, if she had to be played by someone I'd pick Rose McGowan cus she's the right age, quite attractive and quirky. If you have any suggestions, feel free, constructive criticism is always welcome. If it's just a flame that only tells me you're either too scared or too dumb to actually tell me what I've done wrong. Thankies for staying with me on my rant!

Remember: Review! Tell me I'm fabulous and I'll write quicker!