A/N: Hello all! This is the first chapter of an X-Men fanfic I'm coauthoring with my best friend Miss Macavity. We got inspired to write one after watching the first X-Men movie...then, I decided we should put it up here!
This story takes place after X3: The Last Stand, but, here's the thing-I haven't seen that one yet. My friend has, however, so she gave me the basic lowdown, but if I get something wrong or something, bear with me and do not bite my head off or flame me! Flame me and I'll sic Wolverine on you!
This story also is told from the POV of both our OC's-my OC Vivian and her OC Kaeli. Every two or three chapters, the view will switch, so don't be alarmed when it does! I'll make sure to let you know who's telling the story! Well, have fun reading!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own X-Men, and neither me and my friend are rich enough to buy the rights...which sucks, but that's life.
Chapter One: Freak on a Leash
The dismal grey highway loomed before me, the only patch of color for miles; everything else was white with snow. The highway was also pretty empty, and no one had decided to brave the snow and cold to linger on the roadsides.
I shivered under my hooded sweatshirt. It was only a thin, red-and-black sweater I had picked up from a Hot Topic store about two months ago, and all I wore beneath it was a frayed black tank-top. My jeans and boots were spattered with mud and slush that passing cars had been kind enough to spray on me as they zoomed past-friggin motorists.
Needless to say, I probably hadn't made the smartest clothing choice…and the other outfits in my bag were no warmer. But, for having packed these clothes in the dead of night in only half an hour, I had done pretty well.
I was a runaway-although, on a technicality, it wasn't a crime for me to run away, at least not anymore. I was nineteen-by all rights, I could have applied for and attended college, gotten a part-time job to cover expenses, and maybe even gotten a boyfriend-but I didn't. I was forced to take courses over the Internet, stuck at home all day-because God forbid my parents should let me attempt to live a normal life.
But I guess I didn't deserve normal, seeing as I myself was not normal. I was a freak on a leash, matter of fact.
Okay, okay, a freak on a leash isn't a proper term. To all the fancy, big-wig, suit-wearing, politically-correct politicians and lawyers and such, the term is "gifted individuals". To the common people, the term is "mutants". And then, to those of us who do have powers, the term is-as I affectionately coined it-a "freak on a leash".
So, here's the thing…I'm a mutant, right? And everyone knows mutants usually only have one power, one thing they specialize in. Well, I'm different…I don't just have one power-I have three.
I discovered my first power-which I think is some form of teleportation-when I was about four and a half. I had been in my bed, trying to fall asleep, when I had heard a noise that creeped me out. Being four years old, I immediately assumed it was the boogeyman, or some other sort of monster. I can remember squeezing my eyes shut, picturing my parents' room-to me, that was safety. I kept wishing I was there…and, when I opened my eyes, I was sitting on the floor in my parents' room, and my parents were-well, I'm not going to go into details. Let's just say I was scarred for life, and my parents knew I was a mutant.
I'm not sure about my two other powers. I don't know what they're called or exactly what they do-but I know that one of them is this strange little thing where I can look at any weapon-or any piece of technology, for that matter-and instantly know how to work it, how it was created, how to make one exactly like it…and how to destroy it. And power number three…it's really hard to describe…
But it's because of my powers that I was running away.
My parents pretty much hated mutants, and they couldn't have been happier when The Cure-which got rid of a mutants' powers for good-was released by the federal government. In fact, they went behind my back and signed me up for it! Their own daughter!
My appointment to be "cured" was supposed to be today. And, right, now, I was supposed to be sitting in a doctor's office, waiting for that injection-but my parents made one fatal error in their plans: They told my sister, Vanessa, that they were taking me to be cured, when Vanessa couldn't keep a secret to save her life! So, after a little prodding, coupled with some classic big-sisterly threatening, I got her to talk-and that night I packed my stuff and ran for it.
That had been about…two weeks ago, and I had been walking steadily north ever since. However, seeing as I had been living off of granola bars and Gatorade since then, my energy had dwindled to practically nothing. So I set my bag and my trusty bow-which had been my tenth birthday present from my beloved grandmother-down on the side of the road, leaned against the guardrail, and stuck my thumb up in the air. I didn't like the idea of hitchhiking, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Not even five minutes had passed when a grey minivan slowed to a stop beside me. The passenger window rolled down, and a blonde woman with a concerned look on her face stuck her head out.
"Need a ride?" she asked. "It's a long way to…anywhere out here!"
I nodded, and, a minute later, the back door slid open. I grabbed my things and climbed into the van, finding myself sitting in front of a nine-year-old girl and next to a five-year-old boy. The van door slid shut, and we took off down the highway. The little boy next to me looked at me, blinked once, then said, "You look funny."
"Billy!" the blonde woman up front scolded. "Be kind!"
Of course, it was no secret to me that I even looked like a freak-figures, doesn't it? I had long hair that was tawny-blonde at the roots, but faded to light brown at the ends-all natural, too, no chemicals added. I also had red highlights in my hair-which I added as a nice little touch. My eyes were a freaky shade of fiery orange, and, of course, no freak would be complete without a smear or freckles across their nose and cheeks-which I had.
I looked over at this "Billy" kid and stuck my tongue out at him. He returned the gesture, but what caught me by surprise was that his tongue was forked like a snake's tongue, and it was a bright, electric blue.
Great…another freak…I mused. I wonder if his parents know…
"So…do you have a name, sweetie?" the woman asked me.
"Psych. Just…just call me Psych," I told her, giving them a nickname I'd given myself years ago. Did they really expect me to give them my real name?
"So, Psych," the man said. "Where are you headed?"
"Just drop me off at the next train station," I told him. The train station was a good place to go. The perfect place to get inspired as to where to go. I always heard Spain was nice, especially this time of year…
After about twenty minutes-during which I had leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and relaxed-the woman cried out, "Keith! Look over there! There's a man on the side of the road! We should see if he needs a ride!"
These people are entirely too trusting…I thought to myself as I felt the van slow down. For all they knew, I could have been a convicted felon and they still picked me up.
"Do you need a ride, sir?" the woman asked. A moment later, she gave a terrified scream. I opened one eye; the man had pointed a gun to her face.
"No," the "hitchhiker" said. "I need you to get out of the car. NOW!"
Everyone else in the van was out and cowering on the roadside in less than ten seconds. I, however, simply closed my open eye. A moment later, something cold, hard, and metal pressed into my right arm.
"You know, I wouldn't do that if I were you…" I commented lazily.
"Oooh, I'm shaking in my sneakers," the carjacker sneered. "Now out of the car, you little brat!"
I opened my eyes. Who did he think he was calling a "little brat"? "Look. jerkoff, I don't know who you think you are-"
He moved the gun from my arm to my head. "It's none of your business who I am. Now get out of the car before I pull this trigger!"
While this guy may have been severely pissing me off, I wasn't stupid: If someone is pointing a gun at your head, it would do you good to do what they tell you. So, I climbed out of the car…only to be pushed to the cold, hard ground as soon as I did.
All right, that's it! I thought to myself. The gloves are coming off! Time for this guy to see exactly what Vivian Sarah Kelly is made of!
I could feel the tips of my fingers tingling. I glanced down to find that they were glowing purple slightly…and I realized that power number three was ready to be used.
This power was an interesting one. Every time it began to work, the tips of my fingers would tingle and glow purple-like they were doing right now-I would bring up an image of some type of weapon in my mind, purple beams of-I don't know…was it energy?-would shoot from my fingertips, and whoever I was up against would usually end up running away screaming.
So I flipped through weapons in my mind, wondering what would hurt like hell but wouldn't be enough to kill…even though he probably deserved it.
A knife ought to do the trick, I thought. I brought up an image of one, then pointed at him. Purple beams of energy shot from my fingertips, vanishing as they flew. The carjacker stared at me like an idiot for a moment, then he fell to his knees, screaming bloody murder. While he was down, I got to my feet, teleported behind him, then gave him a solid kick in the back. He got to his feet and took off down the highway, still screaming bloody murder.
I started laughing-really laughing-for the first time in a long time. "Yes!" I cried to the carjacker's retreating back. "Hah! I'll bet that hurt! Yeah, that's right…keep running, ya pansy! That's what you get for messing with me!"
It wasn't until after I had finished gloating, however, that I realized I had used my powers in front of a human family…well, except for the kid with the blue tongue.
"Heh…whoops?" I murmured nervously.
Congratulation, Vivian, my mind snapped. You're royally screwed.
A/N: Well, that's chapter one for you! Hope you enjoyed it! Don't worry, you'll learn more about Vivian's powers later on-
Vivian:(suddenly appears in middle of authoress's family room) Yahteh! I did it! What do you think of-(sees freaked-out authoress) Oh, sorry...is this a bad time?
Um, let me think..YES!!!
Vivian: Sorry about that! I'll come back later, all right? (vanishes in a puff of logic)
O-kay. That was weird. Anyways...hope you enjoyed reading! Review and maybe you'll get to see Wolverine next chapter...(drools)