Verses

[Fate]

Contents

I. Let it Rain - Trevor (Erika, Frank, Liz, Elsa)
II. Cool Kids - Emilia (2nd Gen)
III.Immortals - All the Chars
IV.Never Gonna Leave This Bed - Franck, Vera, Ellen, Drew, Elsa, Lux, Onnie

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Let it Rain

So many things are trying to keep me
And so many voices trying to reach me
To tell me that this is not the way
To tell me that this is my mistake

The phone wouldn't stop ringing. Trevor had sincerely considered flinging it against one of the nearest light posts. Just one good fling, and the ringing would cease, just like that. Wasn't as if he couldn't buy another phone easily enough. He certainly had the money. He had enough money to buy a phone company. Well, maybe not Apple, but probably one slightly lower down on the rung.

The phone buzzed again and Trevor sighed, running his hands through his hair. He took a deep breath, looking down at the signal. He recognized the number, though he didn't need to: this number had been set into his caller ID around nine months ago, give or take. “Just put it in, Trevor. You never know.” Trevor frowned now, tapping the phone a few times. He brought the receiver up to his ear.

“Yeah, it's me,” he said, looking out into the street, watching the light dance off the rain for a few moments, “and since you're calling, I'm assuming that---”
“It's happening.”

---

Oh, let the rain keep falling down
'Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late
But I'm gonna make it, don't care what the skies say
So oh, let it rain, let it rain

The rain had come out of no where. A record storm: global warming attempting to right itself or some such nonsense. Trevor should've known the details, but he supposed he couldn't really keep everything in his head. Even he couldn't know quite everything. Between his exhaustive knowledge of the various Paige-Bellefonte deals that were constantly in the pipeline, not to mention what he knew about the Academy, and that wasn't touching the overseas contacts.

Sometimes he longed for the relatively easy, carefree days of his youth, where he just had to juggle drug-dealers and figure out ways of smuggling his future wife and a cohort of friends out of school.

Now the weather was the enemy. Flights had canceled, not that he really had to go far. But he just had to be somewhere cabs didn't usually travel. He tapped his phone again, frowning. Satellite imagery, a technology that he'd helped personally fund. A military contract or something; he didn't quite remember all the details of that particular engagement. All that technology and he still couldn't call a damn cab.

---

I know that this is not the way
That you imagined it would be

“You're seriously doing this? Now?” Erika demanded of him. Trevor didn't need to look; he could practically see her hands gesturing.
“It's not like I particularly want to go now,” he began, seriously thinking about--
“Don't you even think about using your ability on me!” she said, jerking a hand up to point at him. Trevor looked down at the finger, raising his eyebrows and his hands simultaneously.

“Wasn't even considering it,” he lied.
“Liar.”
Trevor sighed. He was within inches of his wife now, her dark eyes flashing. She looked positively glowing, though Trevor couldn't say with absolute certainty what made him think that. He had to fight the urge to smile though. He could feel the nagging calls at the back of his mind. His phone was going off on the bedside table, vibrating and humming.

“I need to go,” he said simply, meeting Erika's gaze.
“Do you? Really?” she asked, raising her brows. “You know,” she rubbed at her arm, “maybe I should go--”
“Absolutely not,” said Trevor, shaking his head. “I promised--”
“I don't care what you--”
“I'm more afraid of her than you.”
Erika raised her brows at that.
“Barely. Plus I'm pretty sure that the collective of you would all attack me at once. I've been attacked by Elizabeth LaRoux before: I don't fancy suffering it again.”
“It was her wedding; you really should--”
Trevor leaned in and kissed his wife.
She let him.
Then she hit him.
“You're trying to use kissing as a distraction! You're not going! Not now!”
“I need to,” he reiterated, a slight frown tugging at his lips. Kissing usually worked.
“No, you--”
“Let me go this time, then I promise, no more travel.”
“Is that a 'period' or 'for the rest of the year' or...”
“For the next few years or so.”
“Few years?”
“Three?”
“Three.”
“If you're going to keep repeating everything I say--”
“This time,” she said, reaching up to tug at him. He already had on a tie. He let her use it to pull him close, their lips meeting again. She started it this time. “Then no more. For three years.

---

Oh, but nothing you say is gonna stop me
No matter the weather that you bring
Oh, let the rain keep falling down
'Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late
But I'm gonna make it, don't care what the skies say
So oh, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain

Trevor Paige ran through the rain. The main thing on his mind now was that Trevor Paige should not have to run through the rain. Trevor Paige should just hail a cab, or possibly call in a favor. He was pretty sure he had at least three people in the area who owed him favors. At least three.

Three.
Argh, why had he made that promise?

The deal had gone well, but three years? Three years without direct contact? He didn't know if he had anyone he could trust to---

His foot slipped: expensive loafers were not designed to run in rain. It slid out from under him and soon he felt his back hitting the pavement. His briefcase went skittering out of his hand, his phone going another direction. He tried to lunge for both, his body flailing. He felt his fingers connect with the slick briefcase, curling, pulling. His flailing foot caught the phone.

It tumbled down a drain.

---

So many things are trying to keep me
So many voices trying to reach me

Fate clearly hated Trevor Paige.

That was the only logical explanation for this. He lay there, the rain drumming down on him, feeling like all the forces of man and nature had colluded to prevent him from reaching her in time. He reached up, wiping at his face with a hand, feeling the cold water pouring there. He sighed, lowering his hand to lay at his side, looking up at the dark, cloudy skies. He really should just lay here. Why not? He wasn't going to make it anyway. All flights canceled, not a car in---

He heard the noise: tries crunching. Shouldn't there be a little more noise for a --- no, wait, another sound:

Raucous pop music.

“Theeeerrrrre you are!” crowed a voice. A window had rolled down and a brilliant, beaming face, round and almost cherubic peeked out. Her short blonde hair would've looked sensible on anyone else; on Frank Cox, it almost looked comic. “We've totes been looking for you, like, everywhere. Why are you laying in the rain, that can't be--”

“Frank,” said Trevor, laughing, “I'm... what are you even doing---”

“Was in the area,” said Frank, shrugging. “And somebody gave me a call; you know who. She was all like 'go look in this area for him, that's where the tracer I put in his phone...'”

“She put a tracer in my phone?”

“Preeeetttty sure she put tracers in everybody's phone after the whole Ellen incident.”

“Remind me to put one in hers,” Trevor wiped at his face and pushed himself up.

“Sooo, you gonna get in the car?” asked Frank. “It's a hybrid. One of those new air models. Baby can push two hundred with computer thingies and thingies.”

“Are you driving?”

“Well, duh. How else are we gonna make it in time?”

---

So oh, let the rain keep falling down
'Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound, yeah
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late
But I'm gonna make it, don't care what the skies say
So oh, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain

When they arrived at the hospital, Trevor thought he might need it. He'd gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, swearing that he would never, ever get in a car with Frank Cox again, precisely as he'd sworn the last three times he'd gotten in a vehicle with her. She popped open the car and practically pushed him out. It didn't surprise him to find Elizabeth LaRoux waiting for him, one of her own children gripping tight to her hand.

“You made it!” she said, beaming. “C'mon. She's in the room now, but you should still be able to make it in time.”

“Because I drove!” said Frank, who was busy working herself out of the car. She and Liz exchanged quick smiles, before Frank descended upon the girl, scooping her up into a tickle-hug: patent pending.

Trevor didn't bother arguing. He simply followed his wife's friend as she guided him through the hospital, explaining his wife's condition as they went. She also apologized for Beau: he would've been there but they'd been running a concert nearby, and he'd needed to finish up a few things before stopping over. However, that didn't mean there wasn't someone there to stop them.

“You're late,” said the woman who looked exactly like Trevor's wife.

“You're here,” said Trevor, looking over Elsa's shoulder. “And Frank tells me that you've planted tracers in our phones?”

“Seriously?” asked Liz, looking over at Elsa.

“It's Frank,” said Elsa flatly, looking from one to the other. “And Erika's ready for you. I just stepped out for a moment. It's... unpleasant.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “You would say that,” she said, before grabbing Trevor's hand and guiding him into the room.

Erika lay on the bed, her legs up on in stirrups. She fixed him with an angry look for a few seconds before screaming at him for being late. Liz barely managed to duck out of the way as a bedpan flew and clanked against Trevor's arm. The blonde deftly wove her way out of firing range as a box of tissues flew next.

“I'm here. I made it, and that's what matters. Besides, it seems like our friends are here. And Elsa,” said Trevor, working his way over to his wife. He took her hand, and she gripped him strong enough that he couldn't feel the tips. He grimaced, but leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“She's dilated,” said Elsa, who'd stepped in the room behind them. She nodded. “I think I see--”

“It's coming!” screamed Erika, who had apparently been holding back.

Trevor leaned forward, urging his wife, unable to stop smiling as he heard her pushing, heard the noises, saw all the horror of it. And it was horrible. Horrible enough that Erika would demand it never be brought up again. The others agreed. But nothing, nothing could replace the sound of that first cry.

Except maybe the second.

---

So many things are trying to keep me
And so many voices trying to reach me
To tell me that this is not the way
To tell me that this is my mistake
Oh, let the rain keep falling down
'Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late
But I'm gonna make it, don't care what the skies say
So oh, let it rain, let it rain
I know that this is not the way
That you imagined it would be
Oh, but nothing you say is gonna stop me
No matter the weather that you bring
Oh, let the rain keep falling down
'Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late
But I'm gonna make it, don't care what the skies say
So oh, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain
So many things are trying to keep me
So many voices trying to reach me
So oh, let the rain keep falling down
'Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound, yeah
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late
But I'm gonna make it, don't care what the skies say
So oh, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain
So many things are trying to keep me

[Tim Tawfeek]

She sees them walking in a straight line,
That's not really her style
And they all got the same heartbeat
But hers is falling behind.

Really, her dad should've just let Emilia stay home today. Okay, yeah, technically it was the first day of school at Bellefonte Academy, so, like, going was pretty much required. Turns out when both your parents had mutations, you got them too. Which wouldn't have been quite so bad if, like, your mother didn't happen to have the kind of power that killed you. Oh, and let's add on the fact that Emilia had one parent from each color and was raised just by her dad. Because being a mutant with a death clock just wasn't enough.

The girl sighed and lowered her head, letting her hair shield her face. A hand went up to adjust her glasses. She'd seen pictures of her parents when they were kids. Why the heck couldn't she have gotten their good traits? You know, instead of her mom's dorky smile and her dad's glasses and skin that just didn't look quite like--

“Hello!” The voice rang in Emilia's ears almost painfully and she wanted to go sprinting in the opposite direction.

---

Nothing in this world could
Ever bring them down
Yeah, they're invincible, and she's just in the background
And she says

Oh God, Emilia recognized that one. Okay, not, like, exactly, but how the heck could you miss that brunette hair? Or how very super pretty she was? Like, Emilia was pretty sure she wasn't into girls (she hadn't figured that all out yet), but this girl was just, like, too pretty.

“My name's Jessica King, and yeah, I'm one of them,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward, “but don't tell anybody. The last name totally lets me blend in and--”

“Jess! There you are!” came from another voice and oh my God where did all these pretty people keep coming from? This one looked as though both his parents must have been pure cute, and probably blonde, based on the hair. He looked kind of like a football player too, and while Emilia still might be figuring out things, she couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat. Then she remembered that they were both, like, standing in front of her. “We were jus' lookin' around an'-- oh hey there,” said the guy, nodding and waving a hand toward Emilia. “Ain't seen you 'round before. But yeah, anyway--”

“Ignore him,” said Jess, rolling her eyes and pushing the guy aside. 'he's an idiot. Now, like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.”

“Hey now, no need to--”

Emilia looked from one to another, noticing that they'd started arguing with one another. They just looked so freaking perfect! And King, King... that meant that she was the daughter of the old Headmistress! But not the uptight bitchy one, but the really cool one who'd saved the school and then gone off to marry the cook who'd been the love of her life! Yeah, these people were totally out of Emilia's range, and she just knew it.

She just had to sort of scoot to the side, let Jess and Andy fight it out. Weird, they kept fighting like they were brother and sister or something, but he didn't look in the least bit like her. Well, okay, they were both kinda stupidly hot, but other than that.

Ah, Emilia escaped! She ran for it, and found her power sort of kicking in, giving her another boost. She didn't think twice about it, rounding a corner and ducking behind, breathing hard all the time.

---

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

The day did not go better. Emilia had to keep standing in front of her class and introducing herself, and she got her name wrong, like, about five times. Her name, because obviously she couldn't be any stupider. It was just all kinds of awful, really. By about her third class, all Emilia wanted to do was go hide in a corner and cry.

But instead, she had to go to some kind of special group training session, where they sent all the kids with powers. She'd heard that all the trainers were now, like, these really scary people. Her dad had told her about how everyone there was about six feet tall and bulging with muscle. But Miss Smith didn't look too bad. In fact, a few of the boys were already taller then her, and she almost looked young enough to be a student herself.

Maybe that would work out?

Yeah, Emilia should've known better. Within a few seconds she realized that Miss Smith was clearly the trainer from hell, as Emilia had ended up crying and sobbing while trying to crawl away. To her surprise, a pair of students showed up from out of no where. One happened to have brilliant pink hair, which was kind of impossible to notice, and the other was a tall, almost willowy girl who had almost immediately grabbed Emilia's shoulder.

“Oh no you did not just do that to her!” said pink-haired, moving her head from side to side, waving a finger. “You are, like, totally going to live to---”

“I'm the trainer here,” growled Miss Smith. “Not you, and she needs to--”

“What she needs---” continued pink-hair, but the willowy girl had already bent down low.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Emilia noticed a faint hint of something in her voice, a strange accent. She swallowed, reaching up to adjust her glasses. The willowy girl nodded. “Everyone has zis problem with Miss Smith. She's just not very nice.” The girl extended a hand and Emilia took it gratefully, smiling as she was pulled to her feet. “I'm Angelique Laffont” the girl said, nodding. She gestured toward the pink-haired one. “That is Persimmon Daffodil Cox, but everyone just calls her Persy.”

Persy happened to have begun dancing and singing now, moving around Miss Smith in a way that clearly irritated the trainer. Emilia couldn't help but stare in amazement. Mostly because everyone was laughing, even Miss Smith looked more mildly bemused then anything else. Could anything phase these other kids? Persy and Angelique didn't even have the whole year thing that Andy and Jess had, and already they seemed just so much cooler than Emilia. The girl wanted to sob again, even as she felt Angelique rubbing at her back.

“Don't worry,” insisted the willowy girl with the slight accent, hugging the other girl, “it gets so much better at lunch.”

---

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids they seem to get it
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
And they said

Lunch was not better. There were people everywhere and they all moved in one big group. Angelique and Persy had walked Emilia there, which was at least something. However, Persy had immediately entered the cafeteria by shouting “wazzzup my bitches!?” and gotten about half the cafeteria laughing. She'd also gotten immediately reprimanded by a kinda handsome looking young teacher.

“Alright, alright, Mr. Wylen,” said Persy, waving a hand. “Don't get your panties in a bunch. Jeez,” she turned to Angelique and Emilia, “this guy,” said with a jerked thumb over her shoulder, “total hottie and all, but man, it's like he's trying to replace old Legrange. You ever hear about him?”

“Uh, yeah, my, um, dad really looked up to him,” said Emilia, flushing. “he used to talk about him all the time, said they were rivals for the longest time and--”

The other two nodded, “and then when it happened, he was devastated?” finished Persy. “Man, I wish I'd been around for that Kaur bitch. I'd have kicked her---”

“Oh look, there's our friends!” said Angelique, smoothly cutting off her friend. She waved toward a group, and Emilia turned, feeling her gut twist again. There was Jess and Andy again. Worse, there seemed to be another Andy sitting just next to him, which was the most terrifying thing that Emilia had ever experienced in her entire life. Another girl sat with them, wearing a beret and a set of gloves and smiling without talking. As Emilia watched, another girl, one wearing what appeared to be a pantsuit, walked over and leaned down to kiss the beret wearer, before sliding into the seat next to her.

“C'mon,” said Persy, waving, “I'll introduce them. And you really need to loosen up! Like, you'll do just fine, really.”

Emilia didn't think so, and she didn't want to start moving toward the intimidating looking group. Sure, the pantsuit girl wasn't, say, as blindingly attractive as the others, but she still looked completely poised. Kind of like how Angelique didn't seem phased in the slightest, despite obviously having one of the rowdiest individuals in the school as a friend. Emilia swallowed, feeling her glasses slip.

“I really just think I should go sit over there. Isn't there a nerd table?”

“Pfft, you're not a nerd,” said Persy, waving a hand.

“No, you're our friend,” insisted Angelique, “and you shall be zer friend too,” she gestured toward the crowd. “Do not worry: all our parents, they graduated here, went at the same time. So yes, we were a sort of play group together for a while, well, not her,” she gestured at the beret wearer. “That's Rose Wallerstein-Smythe; she's Monica's,” she nodded at the pantsuit wearer, “latest girlfriend.”

“More like conquest,” whispered Persy, chuckling. Angelique gave her a hard look before pulling Emilia along.

“Come on, we'll introduce you.”

---

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

They were all just so cool. Except, well, okay, Andy and Richie were just sort of cool in the standard way. Their parents were apparently this really cool pair of musicians: in fact, Emilia had a few of their albums on her I-pod. But, like, Angelique and Persy were clearly just a few turns shy of being complete dorks. Though it was hard to believe that Persy wouldn't have been friends with anyone. She was brash, yeah, and about as crude as possible, but she immediately slid into the seat between Monica and Rose, wiggling in like she belonged.

It turned out that Rose had actually been adopted by her mother, but even said mother had apparently been in the same general groups as the rest. Monica turned out to be Monica Paige, and that last name was enough to terrify Emilia on its own, let alone the fact that she seemed to have immediately begun judging her with a sweeping gaze. Jess immediately leaned over and pushed at the uptight girl, which had led to a quick fight.

“Um, are you guys sure...” she began as she watched, noting several eyes turning toward her, “are you sure you want to sit with me? I mean, you're all so--”

“Oh, she's gonna say we're cool! I just know it!” said Persy. Angelique nudged her, glaring, and the pink-haired girl fell silent.

“We're really not,” said Jess, waving a hand. “we're just... friends. Have been forever. Actually,” she nodded toward Angelique, “it had been her idea for us all to start hanging out with each other again. She remembered that our parents had all dropped us off at the same daycare or something,” Jess shrugged and took another bite of her burger, leaving Richie to pick up the story.

“So we all ended up meetin' up again. 'course, Andy an' Jess been connected at the hip since our parents put 'im down to play,” said the guy, nodding, “an' Angel,” he winked at the willowy girl, who blushed and looked away, “an' Persy sort of fell together later. So it was kinda a matter o' puttin' us all together an' all. Oh, an' look who decided to show up!”

They all turned, and Emilia felt her heart stop. Another guy had approached, and he looked just as cool and full of himself as the rest. And omigod, did he look all kinds of pretty. Perfect dark skin and flawless teeth, his hair shorn against his head. He immediately smiled at her and Emilia blushed, lowering her head.

“Hey guys,” he said, waving. To Emilia's complete horror, he slid into a seat next to her. “Sorry: Wylen caught me on the way, said I needed to brush up my history essay. I see I missed something,” he looked at Emilia.”

“You sure did!” said Persy, reaching over to nudge Emilia closer, not caring that Jess had to yank her tray out of the way and practically dive into Andy's lap. “This is Emilia---hey, we didn't get your last name, what did you say it was?'

Emilia swallowed, looking up at the new guy and smiling shyly. “McCarthy.”

---

I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to get it
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

Emilia ran into the door, not believing what had happened. She'd.... she'd joined the cool kids, well, the group of kids that were cool, or something. She leaned against the door. Jess, Andy, Richie, Persy, Angelique, Monica, Rose, and... Treyvon. Emilia sighed, trying not to let her heart skip a beat. Trevyon Marcello had just been... so cool.

And according to Angelique, he thought Emilia was... cool.

“So, how'd it go?”

Emilia opened her eyes, seeing her dad standing there. He looked as he so often did: like he used to be handsome but gave up trying when a set of friends died and dropped a baby in his lap. His hair still had a sort of wave to it, and every time Emilia looked at him, she could feel the love he'd had for her parents that had been extended so effortlessly to her. Even if he did sometimes make a joke about her having “her mother's eyes” from time to time, which Emilia thought was some kind of Harry Potter reference.

“It went great! I'm... cool!”

“Did you do the thing with the potato? I told you that's--”

“No dad,” said Emilia, laughing. She threw her arms around her father. “I was just myself and they—they were so cool.”

“I bet they were,” mumbled Jack McCarthy, his eyes far away, clouding over with memories.

---

She sees them walking in a straight line,
That's not really her style
And they all got the same heartbeat
But hers is falling behind.
Nothing in this world could
Ever bring them down
Yeah, they're invincible, and she's just in the background
And she says
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
He sees them talking with a big smile
But they haven't got a clue
Yeah, they're living the good life
Can't see what he is going through
They're driving fast cars
But they don't know where they're going
In the fast lane, living life without knowing
And he says
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids they seem to get it
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
And they said
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
'Cause all the cool kids, they seem to get it
I wish that I could be like the cool kids
Like the cool kids

[Tim Tawfeek]

They say we are what we are
But we don't have to be.

Emilia flinched slightly as Trevyon sat next to her. In fact, she had to fight against the urge to blush, not that it would show up all that great on her skin or anything. There was just something about being within proximity to the utterly jaw-droppingly sexy guy that started to make Emilia’s guts twist into all kinds of shapes.

“So, I’m thinking that we should, like, totally get crunk during Spring Break.”

And then Persimmon “Persy” Cox spoke and ruined everything. The perky pink haired girl grinned wildly and looked around at the small gathered friends. Already Angelique Laffont, Persy’s best friend was sighing and massaging the bridge of her nose, a motion that Emilia knew meant that the other girl was debating just how to tell Persy to take a step back and calm herself down. Emilia also knew that someone else in their circle knew how to read everyone even better than herself, and she was already giving their de facto leader a look.

“Well, it is going to happen,” Jess admitted, shrugging. One wouldn’t think that someone with at least part of the “Bellefonte” name would be so casual about dismissing rules but, well, that was just something else that Emilia had learned to take in stride. Emilia also knew that Andy would just go along with whatever Jess said (because apparently he learned all his flirtation strategies from his father, whereas Richie got absolutely everything from the much more fun mother).

“We’ll get so drunk it’ll be cray-cray,” Persy insisted, nodding. “And, like, we’ll end up staying up super late—“

“I swear to God zat if you end up quoting the donkey again…” Angel began.

Persy gave her friend a look, holding it for a few seconds, even raising her hands with two fingers splayed wide. It was around this time that the last members of their group arrived.

Even Emilia wasn’t sure where her (adopted) brother had met Rose, and she could only hope that someday Tim recognized that Rose was head over heels for him. She somehow doubted it: Tim got his father’s cluelessness and his mother’s good looks, which was an absolutely awful combination. Emilia and Tim’s mother spent a good deal of time giggling about how very alike Tim and his father happened to be. Which was odd, as Rose was nothing like either of her mothers, at least not from what Emilia had seen. She was adopted, but that really shouldn’t matter (so was Emilia after all). She did look pretty, so she had that in common with them.

“Gah, I can’t believe Mr. Wylen, he’s just---gah!” Tim said, throwing his hands into the air and plopping down on the other side of Emilia. This had the fun side effect of nearly tossing her into Trevyon’s lap (oh how she hated that Tim knew about her crush) and also not allowing Rose any way of sitting near Tim. Thankfully Rose didn’t seem all that bothered, or at least she faked it well, instead sitting over by Ritchie, who was busy typing into his phone (everyone suspected that Richie had finally found a guy, but there wasn’t much proof).

“Tell me about it!” Persy said, rolling her eyes. “Ms. Smith has her panties all in a bunch too,” Persy paused, then turned to Angelique. “Does Ms. Smith even wear panties? She strikes me as a boxer type of girl.”

“I think she actually makes her own undergarments,” said Angelique, somehow managing to sound bored and informative. Persy, per usual, didn’t pick up on her friend’s behavior.

“I bet that they’re all scratchy to make her feel the pain of being a betrayer of her—“

“Actually, I think she still believes in the whole Inherited thing,” Emilia volunteered. She felt everyone looking at her, which would have paralyzed her just a few months ago. Now she swallowed and nodded. “I’ve talked to her a few times. She seems sort of… sad about it.”

“Well, yeah,” said Persy, snorting, “it’s all about the Big Assault thing.”

Everyone was silent for a few moments, wherein Emilia squirmed.

“Uh, what is the, um, Big Assault?”

This time, everyone looked to Tim, quirking brows. The handsome guy had been checking out a girl wandering nearby and didn’t notice until Trevyon had leaned over and nudged him. Now he looked everyone over, blinking. “What? Dad doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“OH, OH, I CAN TOTALLY TELL IT!” Persy insisted, waving her arms. “My mom does the best telling, well, actually, it’s even better when my aunt’s around to be all like ‘it didn’t happen like that, Frank.’”

“This would be your aunt Banks, right?” asked Emilia.

Persy rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah? The same one who, like, helps pay for my education and looks at me funny every Christmas. I guess it’s kinda weird, since she’s the director of the board—“

“Right, so,” Jess cut in, leaning forward, “why don’t we tell you all about it? Our parents all were heavily involved, so it’s not like we haven’t heard all the stories.”

“And they’re stories too, which makes them better than reality!” Persy cut in, thrusting a hand into the air. Angelique reached up and gently lowered it.

“Okay, so you know the basics,” Jess continued. “The Inherited actually caused this big problem in Washington DC. The Vice President and several other government officials died. So SPECTRE was reformed.

“They figured that since Kalispell is, like, the forefront of mutant activity, that they needed to make a point of attacking here first,” said Jess.

“Though this was after ze government declared mutants terrorists,” Angelique cut in.
“Because we’re all awesome,” added Tim.

“Right, so SPECTRE hit squads took out a few mutants…”

“Including Cassidy Laramie and Felix Nicholas…”

“Isn’t Felix the one who…?”

“Right, he was sorta datin’ Elsa Bellefonte…”

“So she got mad and declared war on SPECTRE. Resulting in the major attack on the mansiiion grounds…”

---

They say we are what we are
But we don't have to be.
I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way.

Roxana hissed as she flung crystals at the encroaching SPECTRE agents. They weren’t supposed to get this far: that’s what Alpha Squad was doing. Roxana knew that full well: she’d ordered Alpha to head there. Technically, Roxana shouldn’t even be here. She’d just heard a tug at the edge of her mind, a notice that she’d grown familiar with, and now she was here.

And suddenly wishing she’d brought about three more members of her squad.

They had flamethrowers and tazers, or at least, that’s what they were using now. The moment they discovered that bullets couldn’t do more than chip at Roxana’s enhanced crystal covering, they’d given up switching over. Flamethrowers were damn hard to deal with, especially when there were four of them spitting fire. Roxana could feel the blisters already up and down her arms, and she was actually marveling at her own ability to stay upright and fighting.

That marveling didn’t stop her from gripping a dagger, flipping it twice in her hand, and flinging it at the nearest soldier. It landed in the weapon, causing the SPECTRE agent to drop it just as it exploded flaming fuel all over three of them. That left two, both of whom thought that tazers might be safer. They held up the crackling weapons, approaching Roxana slowly.

Panting, the leader of the Security forces took a step forward. She pushed crystals out of her armor, creating two long spikes out of her fists, looking like gauntlets of some kind. Roxana took an offensive stance then, sliding into familiar forms. Her arms went up, and she pushed back the pain from the blistered skin. The two looked at each other, took a step forward…

And then found their tazers pulled from their hands, placed on their chests, and activated.

“Sorry, but you were looking kind of beat,” said Erika Bellefonte-King as she stepped forward, leaving the room where her husband still stood. Everett pulled back a small child and stuck his head forward, looking into the hallway.

Roxana turned and nodded to both, before leaning against a wall.

“It’s alright, Roxana, really,” Erika said, smiling and nodding, “there can’t be that many more of these guys, and you’re not the only one fighting any more. But… how did you know to come here? We didn’t know they were here till we heard noises in the hall.”

Roxana swallowed, giving Erika a sideways look. “Your sister.”

“Oh,” Erika said, looking away.

“Nice to know the bitch still has our back,” groused Everett. Erika didn’t even turn. Roxana was the one to give him narrowed eyes.

“Where is my sister?” Erika asked, looking up at Roxana. “I—“

“She told me not to tell you,” Roxana said, reaching down to rub at her arms and wincing, “said that it’s need to know and you’re not a Headmistress any more, so…”

Erika sighed.

“I know,” Roxana said, turning, “but she took someone to protect her, she should be safe. I’m more worried about Alpha squad…”

“Go,” Erika said, waving a hand, “we can handle anything else.”

Roxana quirked a brow.

“Do I need to taze you too?” Erika asked. She flicked her eyes to the side and lifted up the tazer, giving it a few crackling charges.

Roxana raised her hands in surrender and walked on, knowing that she had more to do, even though she wasn’t sure how much more her body could give.

---

I'll be the watcher (watcher) of the eternal flame.
I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams.

Devyn Solway, Alpha Squad member of Bellefonte Academy’s special forces, tore through a tank. Her shadowy jaws ripped at the seams of it, spraying parts and fire everywhere. Bits of it licked at her shadowy shell, pulling patches away. More shadows simply filled in the holes, creating an eerie regeneration effect that likely served to further unnerve anyone who bothered to look at her.

Not that she needed more: she was currently a huge being made entirely of living shadow. Roughly the size of a direwolf, which meant coming up to most men’s shoulders and stretching as long as the average horse, Devyn looked like something out of a nightmare. Each one of her footfalls created swirling patches of darkness that whirled into the air as if bits of hell were leaking out into the real world. Blazing eyes of pure fire looked out from her swirling shadow form, sweeping and flaring whenever she caught sight of prey. Bullets tore rivets into the shadow, only to be reformed.

She had a goal though: get as much fire into the area as possible. She bounded forward, feeling flames jetting from packs.

Great, so they know how to great rid of shadows. Better make sure they don’t get another shot. The wolf grinned and lunged, literally plowing through the fire. Devyn could feel it peeling back layers of shadow, but that didn’t stop her. She merely kept going, colliding with the owner. She took the flamethrower’s nozzle in her jaws and squeezed. Fire spewed forth, entering her mouth and lighting the area around her.

Devyn could feel it eating away at her body quicker than the shadows could manage, but she still howled in triumph as she bounded up and off. She had to move closer into the enemy’s lines, but that just meant that she got clear as her friends started acting.

The flames Devyn had created suddenly spread out. Two shapes on the other side were clearly controlling them, directing the fire to create a living line. The barrier stopped most of the SPECTRE troops from advancing, cutting their forces in half. This didn’t stop soldiers from shooting. Devyn growled and moved to attack, but she could see another shape nearby. She didn’t need her sight or better senses to tell which one that was: Vera. She was literally deflecting bullets before they could connect with the LaRouxs, and Devyn knew full well that Beau was probably helping with that too. Meanwhile Riley and a few others would work at disarming.

The line would hold.

Devyn, however, was soon surrounded by about a dozen or so SPECTRE agents, all looking at her like they’d love to be the one to take her down. She simply smiled.

Twelve might actually be a fair fight.

---

Oooooooh
I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass (glass, glass)
Oooooooh,
I try to picture me without you but I can't

Samantha kept fighting back tears that she knew couldn’t flow, at least, not now. She, Tamara, and Charity had been working desperately to get the younger students free and behind the blast doors. All Samantha could think of was her own son, riddled with bullets for attending a peaceful protest along with Felix Nicholas. It had been one of the few times that Samantha had agreed with the violent course of action: she wanted to rip the heads off every SPECTRE agent in the country. Which had been part of why she’d volunteered to hang back.

“There’s a squad!” Charity yelled, running back. “They’re ahead of us! About five of them, I don’t---ah!” the last came as a bullet tore through the trainer’s leg. To Charity’s credit, she only stumbled, hissing as blood began flowing down her leg. Tamara ran forward, quickly moving to pick Charity up before she stumbled to the ground.

Samantha stepped forward, her arms outstretched, her gaze hard. She felt the bullets streaming into the air, felt them stopping against her own mental push. And she held them, her arms trembling. So tempting: a flick of her wrists and she’d avenge her son five times over. Just a flick and—

“Don’t dishonor your son’s memory,” came a voice from around Samantha. The older woman frowned and turned, seeing someone she’d come to know throughout the years: “Demeter?”

Demeter Smith still had all of the five feet she’d come to the school with. She wore the Security Squad Beta uniform, though everyone who knew her knew she’d qualified for Alpha nearly after her entering. But Demeter had never been one to follow the rules. Even now, when she was likely supposed to be holding back.

Because Samantha watched as Demeter lunged forward. The young woman twisted and spun, throwing dirt and sand into the air, creating streams of it. The troopers didn’t seem to know how to react. They threw hands into the hair, crying out as the barrage knocked several over. Demeter turned, effortlessly guiding the sand. Samantha watched, as in awe at the girl’s technique as she always had been. Demeter danced while others fought. The movements were pure poetry to her, guiding sand and dust and earth and effortlessly tapping SPECTRE agents.

Samantha saw several raising guns and she knew that Demeter couldn’t act alone. She yelled out, throwing her hands up, jerking the guns away. As she did, she heard a growling and saw a flash of fur. The dog looked to be a golden retriever, but a golden retriever couldn’t possibly be that intelligent. For it went straight for guns, latching on and twisting, disarming troopers moments before sand and dirt could hit it. The dog and the Inherited danced with one another in a way that only people who grew up together could. Their motions matched and countered, and Samantha barely found ways of stopping them, jerking weapons away.

In mere moments, the two Beta members stood in front of the doorway. Demeter smirked and looked. “Path’s clear,” she said, reaching behind her to tap the door open.

A SPECTRE agent waited on the other side. His gun was already up, his finger pulling the trigger…

Just as a cat landed on his head. The blow knocked the soldier down, and the cat stumbled to the ground. He was old, this feline, and clearly had just used up all his energy at the motion, because he lay there, looking out of sorts. Demeter knocked out the trooper while Tamara ran forward. She gingerly scooped up her old friend, who she knew was far too old to be doing this.

“Hopefully he makes it,” said Samantha, “but he’ll be mad if we don’t get everyone safe.”

Everyone nodded. Tamara rose. The dog who could only be Andrew Wylen trotted over to help Charity Legrange walk, and the group limped to safety.

---

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals
Just not for long, for long.
And live with me forever now,
You pull the blackout curtains down
Just not for long, for long.

Devyn spat blood, wincing as she felt another agent nudging her with a boot. “This one’s awake!”

Someone yanked on Devyn’s hair and she groaned, looking up to see someone who looked like he’d earned his position by killing everyone in the way. He leaned down, putting his scarred face level with Devyn’s. His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “We’ve got squads all over the school, Ms. Solway, getting ready to—“

“WE’RE UNDER HEAVY FIRE!”
“OH GOD, THEY’RE TAZING US WITH OUR OWN TAZERS!”
“A DOG JUST BIT JAMESON!”
“SOME GIANT IDIOT JUST OPENED UP A HOLE BENEATH US!”
“FUCK, IT’S THE CRYSTAL BITCH AGAIN!”

“Yeah,” Devyn croaked, “you’re doing a great job.” She got a boot to the side, but that didn’t make it any less worth it, even as she turned to cough up yet more blood.

“Right,” said the commander, nodding, “we’ve got a squad pinning down the infirmary. Now, according to our reports, there’s only a skeleton crew on site there. Dr. Jason Campbell, civilian heavily associated with the school, and the Hobbses.”

Devyn growled at the second name.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of them, have you? A married couple: one supposedly has a lethal mutant power while the other does something inane like make fairy dust, correct?”

Devyn growled again. Someone pulled her head upright. “Answer the question!”

“That’s them,” Devyn spat.

“Ah, right,” the commander rose, pulling is walkie talkie to his mouth, “report on the infirmary!”

“Report confirm: defenders down. One male, steel skin power, no ID. One female, fairy wing power, ID Hobbs…”

“So, as you see---“ the commander paused, his brow furrowing, “why are you laughing?”

Devyn turned to spit more blood, then smiled a bloody smile up to the commander: “You got the wrong Hobbs.”

---

Because we could be immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals.

Olivia fought off tears, feeling her body shake and tremble. This was definitely some kind of nightmare, the sort of thing where she’d wake up at any time. She’d just wake up and everything would be fine. People wouldn’t be dying. And she’d thought what had come before had been awful, but this, this was so much worse.

“Oh hey, we found someone!”

The voice made Olivia freeze. She jerked her head out, pausing to see a pair of slightly familiar, identical faces. The two twins smiled at her, waving their fingers. “hey there, tear-bender,” said one, nodding. “You look like you could use some help,” they said at the same time.

Olivia nodded, taking their hands as they pulled her out of the hole she’d been hiding in. It had been one of several that Demi had showed her, back when they’d still been talking to each other. Now Olivia could only hope that her old trainer and friend was still doing okay. And she really felt like clinging to the twins who had helped pull her out of the hole.

“How—how is everyone?” Olivia asked, her voice wavering.

“Shot, mostly,” said a twin, shrugging. He turned to look. “And it looks like there’s some more coming.”

“That’s definitely not good,” said the other twin. He raised his arms, waving them. “Hey there, idiots, you want to try and attack us now?”

“Are you crazy!?” Olivia spat, clambering forward. “Don’t you know—“

“It’s fine,” said the other twin, waving her off. “There’s a fountain right there,” he pointed, “so just use that and freeze them.”

Olivia had been training to do that for years now, but she felt so frazzled she wasn’t sure she could move even a bit of water. She stretched out her hands, moving for it, feeling the water out.

Meanwhile the agents had gotten close to the Emory twins. The two were close though, and they hadn’t been trained in the circus and then at the Academy for nothing. They effortlessly began spinning and darting around, throwing one another and performing impressive, and distracting, acrobatics. Olivia couldn’t help but notice them, if out of the corner of her eye, especially when one actually did a somersault while bullets flew.

“Ut oh,” they said as the tumbler landed. “Flamethrowers! Tear-bender!”

They turned to Olivia.

She nodded, swallowed, and extended her hands. She could hear the fires going, but she knew she could do this. She had to do this, if she was going to help her friends. Olivia took a deep breath, remembering what Demi had said. And she shifted. She pulled, she entered a Flow, and the water went with her. Olivia smiled as she spun, spinning water about. It doused the flames instantly, before pushing agents around. Olivia kept spinning, directing water with each of her fluid movements. It Flowed effortlessly, and soon she was knocking agents against one another.

“Bravo, bravo!” the twins cried, clapping and nodding. One walked over and kicked a SPECTRE’s head. “I think this lot’s down, so we’d better do a disappearing act.”

The other came along to put his arm around Olivia, “and you’re so with us, master-bender.”

Olivia just blushed.

---

Sometimes the only pay-off for having any faith
Is when it's tested again and again everyday.
I'm still comparing your past to my future.
It might be your wound but they're my sutures.

Jason hated it when this happened. He was too damn old to be dealing with this sort of thing: he’d always been too old. But he’d also been the only one the school could call on. Spense had some training in medicine, but not enough, not for now, not enough at all. So yet again, Jason found himself on the backline of a conflict between Bellefonte and SPECTRE.

This time, he’d had to watch as people he’d grown to know and love were fighting against brutal agents. Corey Spenser had military training and a power that made him nearly unstoppable. He’d roared the moment agents appeared and then acted as though he’d been lifted out of an action movie. Jason had watched as the bulky man plowed through agents, refusing to let any enter the room, let alone get close enough to the patients that Jason protected.

Flitting about his head, looking absurd, was Alice Hobbs. The young woman wore a combat suit, which clashed horribly with the brightly colored wings sticking out her back. But she fluttered above, spreading her dust throughout the troops. The first half dozen had inhaled it before realizing, and were now chasing pink elephants. The latter had wasted time putting on masks, which meant that Spense could crush more heads.

The bodies were piling up, and even if they were mutant hating genocidical soldiers, they still twisted Jason’s stomach.

Though not nearly as much as watching Alice and Spense fall.

It was to be expected: SPECTRE was making one last push. If they could take the infirmary that would give them the foothold they needed. And apparently “the Hobbs” were on their records as being primary targets, though Jason was betting that had more to do with Alice’s partner. Not that Alice herself didn’t put up a good fight, especially for a doctor. She’d taken out several, and not just with her dust. The girl was hard to her core.

But not hard enough.

Now Jason walked forward, facing down the remaining six agents, all of which looked grossly unhappy. They leveled their weapons at Jason, who simply stared them down, even knowing he couldn’t do anything extraordinary to stop them. “I’m Dr. Jason Campbell, and these people,” he stretched his arms, “are under my care. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Fuckers,” mumbled Alice beneath one. One turned to nudge her with his foot, only to find himself spinning, hitting the ground.

The others stared at him for a few seconds, then looked at Jason.

“It’s not me,” he said, holding his hands, feeling a bit of panic as they all began cocking weapons his direction. In the next few seconds, the others dropped one after another. Their legs went from under them, and soon they were moaning.

And from behind a curtain stepped a dainty English girl carrying a rifle. She looked absolutely petrified as she stared forward. “Alice?” her voice warbled. “Are you okay?”

“My wings are torn to shit,” said Alice, leveling herself up, “but I’m still in one piece.”

“And Mr. Spense?”

Alice turned and nudged him, causing the massive man to groan.

“Zoe,” Jason said, turning to the frail girl, “when did you learn...?”

“I asked Mr. Spense to teach me,” she explained, walking forward, “he said it’s not that different from photography: just point and shoot,” she came to a stop near her wife, bending down to lift Alice up.

As she did, an agent turned to grab onto Alice. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” he hissed, altering his grip to grab the woman’s throat.

Zoe moved quickly. The rifle knocked his helmet off, and soon her ungloved hand was around his throat. Her brown eyes looked strangely sad as she leaned forward. “You’re going to stop breathing before she will, so I strongly advise you stop,” Zoe intoned, her light voice having just a bit of steel to it, “otherwise you’ll die slowly. Your windpipe will seize up, and you’ll lose air, but you’ll lose it slowly. You won’t black out, not at first. You’ll just feel the air slowly fade away, nothingness gripping you tightly and—“

“Zoe,” croaked Alice. She sat up and pulled her wife to her, wrapping her arms around Zoe’s and pulling her off, “he’s out, it’s fine.”

Jason smiled as the two hugged, reaching down to grab a walkie talkie. “Excuse me, but your men seem to be unconscious in our infirmary. Don’t worry though: I’m a doctor, and healing happens to be my specialty. Best of luck taking out another area.”

---

Oooooooh
I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass (glass, glass)
Oooooooh,
I try to picture me without you but I can't

Gah, this was worse than being strung out. Lucy could see about a dozen of the SPECTRE agents coming closer to her and her twin. At least, she thought it was that many. Her vision sort of spun and blurred at the edges. She was betting the bullets in her body had something to do with that. Metal definitely wasn’t supposed to be in a human and Lucy had, like, at least three bullets in her somewhere. She couldn’t quite remember where. She also couldn’t quite remember how she and her brother had gotten separated, or why Artemis was unconscious right now.

She just knew she was in trouble.

“We have one cornered,” said the lead agent. “Sending photo though files now.”

“It’s Lucy James, bitch,” the girl spat. She rolled her arms and stepped forward. Maybe she’d get lucky and someone would just happen by who happened to have a useful power.

“Well, Ms. James, any last words?”

“How about fu—“ Lucy began, before watching as the ground beneath the men just sort of vanished. She’d been standing there one moment, facing them down, and the next, the hole had opened up. Had she done that? She didn’t remember doing that. Then again, this whole place was one big blur sometimes, so maybe…

“Hi there!” trumpeted a voice that Lucy had never wanted to hear again. She groaned and brought her hands to her temples.

“Hello, Joey,” she groaned.

The towering giant literally hopped over the hole as if he hadn’t just trapped several skilled agents there. He beamed down at Lucy and her brother, the smile fading when he saw the blood. “Wow, you guys look really hurt.”

“You think?” Lucy said, pulling her eyes up. “We’re just a little shot and— hey!”
Joey had bent down and picked Lucy up. He nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the infirmary!”

Lucy flushed. “You idiot! Put me down, you stupid—“ she struggled to get free, just as she saw SPECTRE agents poking their heads out of the hole. Not thinking, she latched onto Joey and extended a hand, pushing. The hole closed with a satisfying crunch.

And Lucy fainted into Joey’s arms.

---

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals
Just not for long, for long.
And live with me forever now,
You pull the blackout curtains down
Just not for long, for long.

Jack smacked himself. “Pull yourself together man! This is important! Now, you’ve got to get in there,” Jack pointed at the room, “and knock Timmy unconscious so you can drag him out here,” Jack pointed down at the ground. “And then you go back in and do whatever he was doing so that you die instead of him.”

“Um, I don’t think—“

“Exactly!” Jack said, nodding. He turned and pushed himself into the room. “now go and—“

“It’s not going to work, Jack.”

Jack looked up, seeing his friend standing in the door. Tim looked exhausted. He actually had ever since the funeral, ever since he’d become a single dad. Now it looked worse, and Jack was betting that the wound pumping blood from Tim’s side had something to do with that. Though he wasn’t an expert, so it could be something else.

“Sure it is!” Jack insisted, stretching his arms wide. “That’s why I’ve got two selves! One goes in and dies, and the other lives. Oh, and you live too, so that you can go home and read Emilia a bedtime story and—“

“And you know I’m not going to make it,” Tim said, smiling sadly and looking away. “Besides, I’m tired, Jack.”

“Well, suck it up! You got a kid and—“

“And I took the bullet protecting her and the rest, remember?” Tim pointed out, looking back at Jack. “Just… let me die a hero, okay? Instead of an asshole?”

Jack stood there, not certain what he could say or do. “Tim, c’mon, this isn’t--- This isn’t what she’d want…”

“Probably not,” Tim agreed, nodding, “but if I can distract them here for just a little bit longer, then their last assault fails…”

Jack nodded. It was true: so long as someone held the defensive line. He opened his mouth to suggest something else, like maybe he could help hold the line or something along those lines and---

“Jack.”

Jack looked his friend in the eye.

“Read Brown Bear; it’s her favorite.”

Jack nodded and turned, trying not to remember the look in his best friend’s eyes.

---

We could be immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,

Immortals,
And live with me forever now,
Pull the blackout curtains down,



This was it: the last push. The Commander led this one himself, and he knew that if it succeeded, he’d win. He’d get promoted, his new anti-mutant agenda pushed forward, and life for all these freaks would forever be changed. He just had to get down this hallway.

Sure, he’d lost several men. These freaks seemed to be everywhere, popping up and fighting him and his men at every corner. No amount of training could have prepared them for this: for grieving mothers with telekinesis, for desperate renegades who turned into shadow beings, for steel men, for tiny girls with rifles and deadly touches, for pixie renegades, for suicide bombers. He’d lose nearly all his men.

But he still had his elite squad: four men who would obey him without question. He’d had them specially brainwashed using a mutant he’d kidnapped and tortured. They literally couldn’t disobey him. Even as he’d plowed into this hallway, the one leading to the Headmistress office, where Elsa Bellefonte lay in wait.

The hallway guarded by two people.

One was a blonde: a cute, petite looking young woman who had impeccable tastes. She wore a fashionable suit that cut well on her, making her look rather fetching. The Commander recognized her too: Ellen Banks, heiress of the Banks fortune and one of the names in mutant kind. Behind her stood a chubby young man who was of no importance.

“Well, well, I was hoping for a Bellefonte, but a Banks will do,” said the Commander, leveling his weapon at her. “I don’t suppose you’re—“

“Ah, ah, ah,” said Ellen, raising a finger and wagging it, she pointed it at him, “that’s my line.”

The commander stared, stunned.

“You see, you’re here now, all alone, with just a few men,” Ellen said, and the Commander swore he could hear a strange cadence to her voice. “Just a few men, while all your other troops have failed. You fired on women and children, Commander. But despite this, you lost more men than we did. Because we’re fighting for our homes and our people. Oh,” she tapped a finger to her lips, “and we’re better than you. There is that. I’m especially better than you.”

The Commander sputtered, Ellen simply continued:

“You see, I’m here because I’m good at what I do. It’s part of being a Banks, really,” she flicked an imaginary spot of dust off her suit. “And it’s my duty to request your surrender. Seize hostilities now, and I’ll let you live.”

“You’ve had your joke,” spat the Commander. He turned. “Men! Ready your---“

“Men,” said Ellen, her voice having that same sing-song, only it felt… stronger, “point your weapons at the commander.”

They all did so.

“See, commander, what you didn’t realize is that this is my gift. It technically takes longer, and it usually takes eye contact but, well, this young man behind me,” she gestured, “is a power amplifier. Thanks to him, I can do, well, this.”

She turned and pointed. “You, shoot him,” she ordered. One of the troops turned and fired on another, causing him to collapse.

“This is insane! I refuse to give up! I’ll see you all burn in---“

“Troops,” Ellen intoned. She pointed at the commander. “Fire.”

---

We could be immortals, immortals
Just not for long, for long.
We could be immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,


“And that’s totally, one hundred percent how it happened,” intoned Persy.
“I’m pretty sure that not all the agents had flamethrowers,” drawled Jess. “But it’s mostly true.”
Emilia nodded. “Yeah, it’s, it’s kind of impressive. I bet it’s not the sort of thing they wanted to be remembered for.”
“But hey,” Treyvon said, throwing his arm around Emilia and giving her a one armed hug, “they are remembered.”
“Yeah, they’re, like, immortal now!” said Persy. She gestured toward a nearby wall, one that held all the names on it.
Emilia walked forward, running her hands along the wall. Elsa Bellefonte, Erika Bellefonte-King, Jason Campbell, Alice Hobbs, Zoe Hobbs, Vera Marcello… names she knew all too well, names that would be forever immortalized…

---

They say we are what we are
But we don't have to be.
I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way.
I'll be the watcher (watcher) of the eternal flame.
I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams.

Oooooooh
I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass (glass, glass)
Oooooooh,
I try to picture me without you but I can't

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals
Just not for long, for long.
And live with me forever now,
You pull the blackout curtains down
Just not for long, for long.

Because we could be immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals.

Sometimes the only pay-off for having any faith
Is when it's tested again and again everyday.
I'm still comparing your past to my future.
It might be your wound but they're my sutures.

Oooooooh
I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass (glass, glass)
Oooooooh,
I try to picture me without you but I can't

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals
Just not for long, for long.
And live with me forever now,
You pull the blackout curtains down
Just not for long, for long.

We could be immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,

Immortals,
And live with me forever now,
Pull the blackout curtains down,

We could be immortals, immortals
Just not for long, for long.
We could be immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,
Immooooooo- immortals,

[Tim Tawfeek]

You push me
I don't have the strength to
Resist or control you
Take me down, take me down

You hurt me
But do I deserve this?
You make me so nervous
Calm me down, calm me down

The setting sun bathed the bed in a reddish gleam, reflecting off the two bodies entwined there. Franck felt his eyes struggling to stay open, despite a very strong desire to keep looking. Sucking up an Emory's emotions, especially their lust, had always left Franck heady. He'd get drunker from one night with one of them than he ever would from alcohol. After all these years, he'd expected to gather some sort of immunity. Enough drinks and surely he wouldn't get drunk again. Yet there he lay, drunk, with no desire to move. The strangest part was how his heart still skipped a beat, even as his partner shifted.

“You're thinking something deep again,” the twin protested, propping himself up on one arm and staring at his partner. Unlike Franck, Casper had no reservations about staring. He leaned over to kiss his lover's neck. “What's on your mind?”

Franck raised a brow. “Mostly how I keep finding myself drunk on Emorys,” he pointed out, shifting slightly to slide his arm around his partner. Casper squirmed around the arm, instead moving to give it another slight nip before looking up with raised brows.

“Did you forget which one of us you took to bed again?” he asked teasingly. “If you want, I could pretend to be him again. It's always a little fun. Or, well...”

“I still don't want that,” Franck said, adding a laugh. He shook his head, raising a hand up to ruffle at his hair. At some point they'd ruffled it, mussing it in a way that he supposed most people would find sexy. Judging by how Casper looked at him, it worked on at least one person.

“Shame, because it would still be fun,” Casper insisted, moving to kiss at Franck's arm again. “It's not as though you haven't slept with both of us now,” another kiss, moving up Franck's neck. “You know he still--”

Franck shook his head, raising a hand. “not now,” he leaned over and took those questing lips in his own, moving them softly against one another. He could feel Jasper reacting, that surging emotion flooding into his senses again. Franck's head swam, but he forced himself to part. His mouth moved for a moment, and Casper raised his brows.

The twin pointed at his lover. “You're thinking deep thoughts again,” he insisted. “You always get this scrunched look,” Casper pointed at his brow and pushed lightly with a finger. “It's so serious,” he shifted up to lay next to Franck. “What are you thinking?”

That he still couldn't quite believe he was with this twin now. In some ways it made more sense than Jasper, especially now, now that Franck had decided he needed something more permanent. The whole mess, the tricks, the arranging, it all made Franck suspicious, but he knew what they both needed. All three of them somehow knew precisely how to make this relationship work, when there was no logical explanation for it doing so.

“Have you ever thought about kids?” he asked, looking over at his lover.

“They're delicious with butter,” Casper replied. Franck laughed, but before he could speak, his lover continued: “I have. You know I have. They're quite fun. I still don't see why we can't just borrow someone else's for a while if you really want to--”

Franck sighed rubbing at his face. He didn't even quite understand it himself. He blamed Frank, somehow. Frank and her stupid relationship that didn't make sense to anyone, not even the people involved. Or maybe he blamed Erika. That definitely made sense.

“All your friends are having babies and you're feeling left behind,” Casper pointed out, before leaning over. “You do know it doesn't work with our parts. Missing--”

Franck just looked over and raised his brows.

“How about we try?” Casper asked, shifting. “Let's not leave the bed for, oh,” he looked at the clock, moved to turn it down, “ever, and we'll work on seeing if we can prove everyone wrong?”

“This sounds like an excuse to have more sex,” Franck pointed out. He opened his mouth to protest further, but Casper shut him off.

And Franck got drunk again.

---

Wake you up
In the middle of the night to say
I will never walk away again
I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh

Vera walked out of the bathroom, yawning and running her hands through her hair. Times like this made her feel especially grungy. Nothing felt quite as bad as getting up in the middle of the night and needing to tend to nature's call. Her eyes felt nearly forced shut, and she'd made the mistake of looking into the mirror. Despite her grog, she'd still checked teeth and winced. Yes, they were definitely past the honeymoon part of the relationship.

A loud snore reminded Vera of that. She sighed and turned, seeing her wife stretched out on the bed. Devyn's mouth had contorted in a wholly unattractive position, drool starting to leak out of her mouth. The hectic day moving in their best friend had left both of them feeling stiff, sore, and exhausted. It had also left Vera wondering.

“We're lucky we're still together,” Vera said, rolling her eyes. “I don't want to fuck this up again. Fucking though...” she trailed off, running her eyes down the sprawled body. Battered, also disheveled, with likely a large share of dragon breath, and still the woman sprawled there was the most attractive person that Vera had ever met. She took a few steps closer, hesitating and staring.

Said woman jerked away, her head coming up, her eyes flashing darker than a human's could for a few seconds. The shadows of the room quivered, quivered only long enough for Devyn to look at Vera. “Wha-- is it morning?” Devyn turned to look around, blinking blearily.

“Nah, just had to take a leak,” Vera said, gesturing. She took another step forward, smiling and arching her brow. “I was just thinking about how hot you look.”

Devyn blinked, looked down at herself, then up at Vera. “You're nuts,” she said.

Both laughed. Vera closed the distance, sitting on the bed, playing with the fabric. “Did you ever think we'd get this far?” she asked, looking up at Devyn.

The other woman, Mrs. Vera Marcello-Solway, rubbed at her face. “Not really,” she admitted, before giving Vera a slightly abashed look. “There was a lot of crap in the way. But...” Devyn's face fell, “is this about---”

Vera shrugged. “I just think you'd make an awesome mom.”

Devyn laughed at that.

“I'm serious, and everything's better now--”

“Yeah, if we want a kid who won't have a mom in a few years,” Devyn replied, rubbing at her face. Vera knew she was right: so long as the two of them still did their job, still served as a front line, a thing like a child, it just wouldn't ever factor into the picture. They'd known that when they'd decided to throw their lot in with this life. Someone had to make the call, and it wasn't as though they'd ever be able to produce kids. It hadn't been part of the equation before now.

Then again, none of this had been.

“Besides, Elsa wouldn't--”

Vera rolled her eyes: “Bitch does not have control of my ovaries.” They both laughed at that. There was another silence. Devyn shifted to sit up, looking up at her wife. Vera looked back. They let the silence hang again.

They didn't need any more words. Vera slid forward, sliding into the bed. Lips met again, bodies slid back into familiar positions. It wasn't perfect: Devyn's breath was awful, and Vera's teeth had film. But it was them. They'd fallen into each other, and neither was going to leave that bed for quite a while.

---

So come here
And never leave this place
Perfection of your face
Slows me down, slows me down

So fall down
I need you to trust me
Go easy, don't rush me
Help me out, why don't you help me out?


Ellen groaned as light pierced her eyes. She blinked and looked over at the clock. Someone was going to die. Painfully. Because this was---

“It's breakfast time!”

Ellen groaned and slid back down. She reached for a pillow, pulling it over her face.

“C'mon, Ellen! It's time to get up and face the day! Well, okay, it's more, like, it's time to face the day if we were actually living in China, but we should probably get used to that time if we're going to--”

“Frank,” Ellen groaned, not moving the pillow.

“I mean, the baby's gonna be all set for Chinese time, which means that it's—is it okay to call it an it? I feel like I should name it already. Did we settle on Erika Danger Banks or Ming-Ming Elizabeth Banks or--”

“Frank.” The pillow did not move.

“I kinda like Ming-Ming, but we did kind of make that deal with Eri. Does it really count if we're adopting the kid? Because maybe she's already got a name and--”

“FRANK!”

Frank stopped this time, and Ellen shifted, removing the pillow. There Frank sat on the edge of the bed, head tilted. Of course she was still wearing bright pink pajamas that hurt Ellen's eyes to look at.

“The child,” Ellen said carefully, “is going to live here. Which means she'll live on our time.”

A beat of silence fell and Ellen could swear she actually heard the gears moving in Frank Cox's head.

“So we don't--”

“No.”

“But what if---”

“No.”

“Wouldn't it be best if---”

“Frank,” Ellen waited for Frank to meet her eyes, “it's the middle of the night. Ease up.”

Frank paused for a moment, before she sighed and flopped back onto the bed. “Well, it's just that we're gonna be getting Ming-Ming soon and---”

“We are not calling her that.”

“and I'm just all full of energy and how come you're not all excited and stuff? It's not like this isn't your first adopted Chinese baby and--”

“Frank,” another pause while Frank looked to Ellen. “It's the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, you said that and--”

“Frank.”

“Yeah?”

“Look into my eyes.”

“Oke-dokie, if you're sure. That's kinda---”

But Frank slowed. Ellen stared. They held the position for some time, Ellen's voice taking on the steady beat and cadence that was so familiar to her. Frank began swaying in place. She'd always been susceptible to Ellen's power, and there were times, like now, when Ellen almost felt guilty about using her powers on her business partner and, well, whatever Frank counted as. Her mind only had to replay another round of “Ming-Ming Elizabeth Banks” to get proper motivation to continue, however. Within a few minutes, Frank slumped down, slumbering in a manner that even Ellen had to admit was adorable.

It also happened to be right on Ellen's bed. She sighed, leaning back, staring at the ceiling. Somehow, she blamed Erika for this.

---

Wake you up
In the middle of the night to say
I will never walk away again
I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh


Drew frowned as he listened to the sound. Erika likely didn't think that she'd woken him. Yes, he'd always been a light sleeper, but he'd also been quite good at letting her think that she wasn't waking him up by sliding out of bed in the middle of the night. Sometimes he almost felt guilty when he did that, when he fooled his wife. It bothered him to his core, how easy that came to him, almost second-nature. He could still recall harsh words flung at him from someone wearing his wife's face. However, he could also remember all too well where that person was now, so he didn't fight it.

Drew Conner slid up on the bed, reaching over to flick on a light. He could see his phone buzzing, business deals likely coming in, though he wouldn't be surprised to find messages from Frank Cox. The intolerable blonde had been messaging most of her friends at the oddest of hours: something to do with the child that Ellen was adopting. Like most things involving that woman, Drew didn't think on it overmuch. She was harmless ,at least.

Another loud retching noise drew Drew's attention away from the phone and toward the bathroom again. He couldn't help but wonder what this was all about. Generally Erika handled food well, though they had eaten Thai food the night before...

“I woke you up,” Erika said. She leaned on the doorway, and Drew looked over at her. He shook his head. “You're an awful liar.”

That had Drew raising his brows. “That doesn't sound like me,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess,” Erika admitted. She leaned against the door again, letting out a breath. “So, am I allowed to come back, or do you not want anything to do with vomit breath?”

Drew patted the bed. Erika walked over, sliding back under the covers. They moved against one another. Drew found his hand lowering to Erika's mouth, wiping at it.

“Don't,” she insisted, raising a hand to intercept his, “it's disgusting.”

Again Drew just raised his brows. Erika lightly tapped him on the chest before settling in. He could almost feel it, something tingling at her mind. “I think Frank texted us again,” he said, looking to his phone. “Probably to remind us all that it's China time or something along those lines.”

“I'm really sorry about her,” Erika said, looking up and smiling ruefully. “She's been intolerable lately. Look on the bright side: she's keeping Ellen busy.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Drew mumbled. He winced more than was necessary as Erika hit him. “You think she can work on your sister too?”

“Elsa's--- having a rough time lately,” Erika protested. She sat up. They looked into each other's eyes. Drew found himself leaning forward yet again. A hand went up, but he intercepted it, instead taking the lips. They tasted awful, but they were hers.

“You're disgusting,” Erika said, laughing.

“Yet you remain married to me,” Drew replied.

“I just want the Conner fortune,” Erika replied lightly, settling down against her husband.

“Well, you can't have all of it. I've a sister to think of,” Drew replied, smiling again.

“Yeah, Eve totally needs it,” Erika replied. She was about to say more when Drew's phone buzzed again. He leaned over and looked at it.

“Frank again,” he said, lowering it. “How is she even involved with this? Isn't it Ellen's?”

“Yeah,” Erika said, shrugging, “but you know how Frank is...”

“All too well,” Drew drawled. He winced as another light blow connected. They fell into silence after a while, before Erika shifted.

“Can we just... do this?” she asked. Drew only had to arch a brow for her to continue: “Stay in bed. All day.”

“You know I have---” Drew began.

“I knew you'd say that, but...” Erika shifted, her lips working for a moment.

“But?” Drew prompted.

“Well,” Erika said, “I'm getting sick, and I'm feeling a little... needier, and there's the weird cravings and--”

“And you're on birth control,” Drew countered. He knew it was a horrible excuse, but he felt his heart skip a beat. He'd noticed the signs, hadn't he? He really should have. God, and everyone around Erika had been getting the damn baby fever. He really should have---

“I think it's a boy,” Erika said. She looked up at him. “You're not mad are you? Because--”

Drew cut her off by kissing. They spent the day in bed, with him showing just how very not mad he happened to be.”

---

So you say "Go, it isn't working"
And I say "No, it isn't perfect"
So I stay instead
I'm never gonna leave this bed


It isn't working. Elsa knew that. She knew it as she stared at the person laying on the bed across from her. It hadn't ever worked, has it? It definitely wasn't perfect, it never had been. But things had been better once upon a time, hadn't they? So much better. She kept recreating the past; she knew it. But she didn't want to leave, didn't want to think about it.

Instead she reached for him again. Her lips moved against his, a familiar dance coming to them, even in the early hours of the morning when she knew he didn't want to move. They danced a dance and it felt empty, but it was still dancing. It still felt the same, filled some void within her, right where she knew a matching womb had already been filled.

“We're not leaving today,” she rasped, moving her hands to run through his hair. “I refuse. We're going to stay here and just be ourselves, do you hear me Felix? We're going to just do this. All day and--”

“You know my name's not Felix, right?” the man reminded her, shifting.

Elsa gave him a dark look. “Your name is what I say it is,” she said flatly. “That's what I pay you for.”

And she drove him back into the bed, moving, pretending like it was all okay.

---

Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
I'd give it all away just to get you back

And fake it, fake it all
Take what I can get

Knockin' so loud
Can you hear me yet
Try to stay awake but you can't forget

Lux could feel his hand running across her stomach. It felt so strange, even now. Some part of her still flushed whenever anyone even mentioned sex. Onnie had teased that it must have been miraculous conception, because Lux was clearly still a virgin. But the swollen stomach certainly said otherwise, didn't it? The life born out of the two of them, all because of the guy laying next to her in bed.

“You know,” Tim said, looking up at her, “some times I still expect to wake up and find I'm alone in my room in the dorms. I'll fall out of my bed and Karsen will be knocking on the door and shouting or something.” He smiled, looking down at the belly.

“Yeah,” Lux admitted, looking down and letting out a breath, “I know what you mean. Though, uh, not,' she flushed, “not that I think about life without you or anything. Not now. But, like, this,” she said. “It's all a bit weird, isn't it?”

“You mean the whole going to be parents thing?” Tim asked, pulling a face. “It's all kinds of weird.”

“Sometimes...” Lux said, before chewing her lip. Tim looked at her, and he did it with that expression on his face that let her know she'd be talking soon whether she wanted to or not. She couldn't fake it, never could, not period, and definitely not with Tim. “I'm... I'm worried that my power is--”

Tim raised a hand to her lips. “Don't think about that, Lux,” he insisted. “We've got it under control.”

“But--” and the hand came back up.

“It'll be fine. We've got the serum, right? And Dr. Laramie said the baby is perfectly healthy.”

“I just can't help but worry though!” Lux said. She sighed. “I know it's insane, but--”

“It's all kinds of insane,” Tim agreed. He sighed, looking at Lux's stomach. She wanted to cover it up, especially since she looked all bloated and ugly an--- “But we can do this, Lux. Like, we deserve this, don't we? For all the crap we had to live through? Hell, we should be able to have this simply for putting up with Jack for all these years.”

Lux had to laugh at that. She could feel tears brimming.

“And we're gonna be awesome parents,” Tim pointed out, “and she's going to have an awesome group of kids to grow up with. Like, everyone's pregnant at once. So she'll totally be covered.”

“Gah, she's going to be the awkward one.”

“and she'll be as hot as her mom, so she'll end up getting, like, a Conner to fall for her or something.”

They both laughed at that. Tim scooted up, and Lux put her head against his. Eyes closed, deep breath. After all these years, she still felt so... so complete with him. Their relationship had always been like that. Rocksteady. Solid. Complete. She'd found the person who filled the parts of her that needed filling, and he somehow kept insisting that she was the best thing that ever happened to him.

The real best thing that ever happened to them kicked in her stomach. And her parents cooed.

---

Wake you up
In the middle of the night to say
I will never walk away again
I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh

You say "Go, it isn't working"
And I say "No, it isn't perfect"
So I stay instead
I'm never gonna leave this bed, ooh

A heavy bouncing on the bed woke Onnie from her sleep. She groaned and shifted, her eyes fighting to open. She saw the adorable face looking up at her with the saddest of eyes. Then she looked down and saw their child.

“Jack, why is Emilia here?” she asked, looking up at her husband. He smiled unsteadily, shifting and pushing the young girl in front of him like some kind of shield. Onnie fought the urge to sigh. How was it that he was a father now? Adopted, yes, but very much a father, and still he acted like a teenager who didn't quite understand himself.

“She had a bad dream,” Jack pointed out. He tapped Emilia's shoulders. The girl smiled unsteadily at Onnie, raising a few fingers to wiggle. “It was all about that stupid dinosaur. I told you that Jurassic Park was too scary of a movie, but you were all like 'it's just dinosaurs, Jack, don't be silly.'”

And after all these years, he still got her accent wrong.

“So now she's gonna sleep with us. Which will totally put a damper on all the kissing we were--” Emilia of course let out a squeal at this. Onnie laughed and sat up. Emilia scooted further, sliding into the embrace of her adopted mother. Onnie leaned down to kiss the girl's forehead, pretending like she didn't see their old friends in those bright green eyes or the dark rings of hair.

“Why don't we make a day of it?” she asked, smiling at her daughter. “Daddy can make breakfast in bed.”

“I hope you like cereal,” Jack cut in.

“And we can just sit here in our pajamas and watch movies all day.”

“But not the ones with dinosaurs,” Jack insisted.

“I like Land Before Time,” Emilia insisted, looking from one parent to the other. “Cera's my favorite.”

“Because you've got good taste,” Jack said. Without warning, he jumped down and began tickling her. Emilia let out a screech and began wiggling. Onnie had to jerk away to get out of the attack range. Eventually Emilia squirmed away, still laughing as she ducked around her mother.

“Oh, so I have to tickle mommy too?” Jack asked grinning.

“Not if you want to kiss mommy later,” Onnie replied. Her threat didn't hold as her daughter began attacking her back. She let out a squeal, and soon the entire McCarthy family was collapsed in a fit of tickles and giggles, one that would leave them utterly paralyzed, panting and laying on the bed, smiling at each other and the early morning sun.

---

"Never Gonna Leave This Bed"
You push me
I don't have the strength to
Resist or control you
Take me down, take me down

You hurt me
But do I deserve this?
You make me so nervous
Calm me down, calm me down

Wake you up
In the middle of the night to say
I will never walk away again
I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh

So come here
And never leave this place
Perfection of your face
Slows me down, slows me down

So fall down
I need you to trust me
Go easy, don't rush me
Help me out, why don't you help me out?

Wake you up
In the middle of the night to say
I will never walk away again
I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh

So you say "Go, it isn't working"
And I say "No, it isn't perfect"
So I stay instead
I'm never gonna leave this bed

Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
I'd give it all away just to get you back

And fake it, fake it all
Take what I can get

Knockin' so loud
Can you hear me yet
Try to stay awake but you can't forget

Wake you up
In the middle of the night to say
I will never walk away again
I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh

You say "Go, it isn't working"
And I say "No, it isn't perfect"
So I stay instead
I'm never gonna leave this bed, ooh

Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
Take it, take it all
Take all that I have

Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
Take it, take it all
Take all that I have
Take it, take it all
Take all that I have