Evolutionary Changes

New York City, New York.

“Let’s go, Hawks! Let’s go! Let’s go, Hawks! Let’s go!”

The cheers from the crowd under the stadium roof of the basketball court were filled with excitement and suspense, something Evan Daniels craved like an adrenaline junkie. He and the rest of the team were up against the Tigers, a rival school and long-time challenger of the Hawks.

“Daniels! Pass it over!” an obnoxiously loud voice called from across the court, silvery white hair standing out against the other players.

Pietro Maximoff, better known as Evan’s long-time frenemie and rival for almost everything.

Evan didn’t hesitate to pass the ball as he dodged the competing players of the opposing team, swiftly bouncing the basketball over to Pietro who expertly weaved in and out of the oncoming players trying to steal from him. The cocky teen was fast, Evan would give him that, but that cocksure attitude wouldn’t win them any favors on the court.

“Keep it away from ‘em, keep it away! That’s it, Maximoff, let’s go!” their coach called out from the sidelines, like the rest of the crowd he was on the edge of his seat with suspense. They were neck and neck on the scoreboard.

Evan watched as Pietro evasively moved through the opposing players to the basket, only to show off at the final second and misjudge his aim. Rather than slip through the hoop, the ball swirled around the rim before dropping back to the court floor where the Tigers were waiting.

“Come on!” Evan grumbled, snapping back into gear to try and steal the ball back. They were down by only 1 freaking point, man!

“Ten seconds, boys! Let’s go!” Coach cried, clapping along with the other Hawks to encourage them. “Steal it back!”

“Pietro grab it!” Evan yelled, seeing an opening for them to snatch the ball. “18! Don’t let him pass!”

The Tigers moved to do just that but Pietro saw the opening too, moving quickly between the two players and grabbing the ball back. The crowd went insane with cheers, standing and whooping for the Hawks to score and win the game.

“Get it down the court! Daniels is open!” Coach pointed out, following Pietro and Evan from the sidelines. “Get it to ‘em, Maximoff!”

Evan swiftly rushed to their basket and locked eyes with Pietro, noting the annoyance in the white-haired boy’s pale eyes, nodding while holding his hands up for the pass. He could score easily from his position and win them the game.

Pietro clearly wasn’t thrilled about handing off the winning shot, but he didn’t argue and expertly passed Evan the ball. In a matter of seconds, with only 3 left on the countdown, Evan dribbled the final distance and turned to avoid the sole Tiger player blocking his way.

“Shoot!” Pietro demanded, following closely.

And he did, carefully lining up the ball right as the other opposing player turned on his heel to try and catch the ball mid-air. The ball went flying towards the hoop, the crowd on their feet in tense suspense, the Hawks and Tigers both biting their nails to see who would win the game, and Evan…well, he stopped paying attention when he felt the other player collide with him mid-air.

‘Crap!’ he thought, already feeling the tell-tell sensation of bone trying to push its way through his skin. ‘No no no! Not now!’

The second his back slammed to the floor, he felt it.

Massive, unnatural bone spikes burst through his arms, digging into the court floor as he slid backwards. From his peripheral, he noticed only two sets of eyes were locked onto him instead of the game. Everyone else was too focused on the basketball sliding perfectly through the net, with a mere second to spare, the sound of the buzzer going off echoing through the stadium just as loudly as the cheering crowd.

“Hawks win! Hawks win!” the game announcer cried extatically, amping up the crowd even more. “What a game, folks! Let’s hear it for Player 21, Evan Daniels!”

Evan, however, was not paying attention. No, he was too busy looking down at his arms that were thankfully now bare of anything but smooth skin, but that had been too close. He was also trying to ignore the eyes on him that he knew had witnessed his slip-up.

This was not how he had imagined his night going…

Fuck.

In the locker room after the big game, Evan tried to finish up packing away his uniform and gear to hopefully escape any confrontations with a certain someone. The other players had already cleared out, including their coach who congratulated them all on a fantastic game.

‘Not a fantastic ending though,’ he thought blandly, zipping up his gym bag.

The sound of the door shutting left Evan feeling like a bug under a microscope, sighing under his breath while turning to meet the eyes glaring at him from across the bench. “Alright, what is it this time?”

Pietro stood leaned up against the other lockers, arms crossed with a look of consternation, “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“Tch. You just had to go and hog all the glory for yourself tonight, didn’t you?” Pietro glowered. 

Evan felt some of the wind leave his sails when he realized why the other boy was so annoyed with him. Yeah, he’d won the game, but he wouldn’t have if Pietro hadn’t given him the opportunity to do so, and no one had given the other teen the credit he deserved.

“I didn’t mean to, man,” he stressed, feeling a little guilty. “That was a great pass. We wouldn’t have won without you either, Pietro. You know that.”

“Well, it’s nice to be appreciated!” Pietro snapped sarcastically, shoving himself away from the lockers.

This was a constant routine for the two of them. Having grown up in the same neighborhood - literally only a few homes down the same street - as well as attending the same school together, for some reason Pietro always felt the need to try and one-up everyone else, including Evan.

Hell, it was now mostly just Evan.

Pietro had always been competitive, but sometimes the winter-haired teen took it too far. He would try and out-run, out-match or out-perform anyone who challenged him at anything. His speed and agility were incredible. The teen’s athletic standing was second to none, but any loss seemed to grate on Pietro as if he’d come in last place, even if it was second. 

And as they got older, every time Evan outdid Pietro at anything, the animosity between them grew as well.

“Come on, man—” Evan tried, holding out his hand.

“Save it,” Pietro muttered. “You won, take the win.”

“I believe you both did very well tonight,” a woman’s voice came from the doorway, startling the two teenagers. From the open door, Ororo Monroe walked in looking as beautiful and graceful as always.

“Autie O!” Evan grinned. “You made it!”

“Of course,” she said, walking over to both boys. “I wouldn’t have missed it. It was lovely seeing you both play. Your agility is quite remarkable, Pietro.”

Said teen just looked away, shrugging while trying to maintain a careless façade. Unfortunately, Storm was rather attuned to young Pietro’s personality and she knew the boy did not always know how to handle praise from people he did not want it from.

…and she knew there was only one person the boy truly wanted adulation from.

Though Evan did not know of Pietro’s family history, Storm knew it well. She’d watched the boy grow into the young man he was now. It was by sheer coincidence that Pietro lived in a household that was on the same street as the Daniels, but Storm took advantage and kept an eye on young Pietro throughout his childhood. His rivalry with her nephew aside, Pietro did have a good heart underneath all that supercilious and mischievous nature. He was merely prideful.

Some would say as prideful as his Father…

“Evan is right, you know. Your team would not have won tonight if it weren’t for your incredible skill. Sometimes, others overlook the fact that there is not an I in Team, choosing to focus their attention solely on the victor instead. But that does not invalidate your own achievements,” Storm stated gently, knowing that even if Pietro did not want to hear it, he needed to. She had never turned down the opportunity to praise Pietro throughout his childhood whenever she could, trying to encourage the boy as much as she did Evan.

All it seemed to gain her was a dash of more respect than the white-haired teen gave to others, but it was better than nothing.

Pietro was quiet for a moment before scoffing under his breath, “Whatever. Later, Storm. Daniels.”

With that, the young man stalked out of the locker room without a second glance behind him, leaving the other two to watch him go with equal amounts of pity.

“It seems like you two have been competing with each other since you were youngsters,” Storm sighed.

“Yeah. Guess so…” Evan smirked ruefully. “Where’s Dad and Mom?”

“Waiting for us outside. I think the boys’ locker room makes your mother nervous,” she said, her playful demeanor shifting slightly as she worried her lower lip. “Evan. I wanted to talk to you about the game, specifically what happened when you hit the floor.”

“Oh—uhh…saw that did you?” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“You know I did,” she said blandly, hiding her smirk. “And we were lucky that no one else did either.”

Evan sighed heavily and dropped his arm, unwilling to tell her that he was almost certain Pietro had seen it happen too, but since the other boy hadn’t said anything…he was really hoping he was wrong.

That would be just what he’d need; Pietro telling everyone he was a freak.

Storm took a seat on the bench and watched her nephew silently, wondering if it was time she pushed the subject of him moving from the city. They had discussed it before, briefly, but only the two of them. Evan had refused to talk to his parents about his budding manifestation and Storm had conceded to let him do so on his own.

But now, it seemed as though the clock was ticking, and not in their favor.

“I’ve been worried about you lately,” she said. “About the things we discussed?”

“Come on, Auntie, I’m fine!” Evan waved her concern off. “Everything’s cool.”

“Evan,” she scolded. “What happened tonight was a close call. Too close. It is not a matter of if it will happen again, but when.”

Rolling his eyes, Evan turned to grab his gym bag. He’d heard the whole spiel before about mutation and control - and blah blah blah! – but he didn’t want to upend his entire life over some freaky DNA bullshit. It wasn’t his fault, so why should he be punished for it? He had everything under control.

“Look, it’s no big deal, okay?” he argued. “I’ve got it under contro—o—ah-achoo!”

Before either of them could blink, Evan’s resounding sneeze coupled with his own growing frustration had instantly caused bone spikes to burst from his body, flying in every direction…including Storm. By the time he opened his eyes, fear rushing through him at the sight of the damage he’d just caused, he winced when he saw a single bond spear imbedded in the locker mere inches from his Aunt’s head.

…holy—

“Under control, you say?” Storm teased him, raising one elegant eyebrow.

Rubbing his nose, he winced and lowered his eyes, “Busted, huh?”

“Big time.”

Shit.

Back at the X-Mansion.

“Ah’m just sayin’, we could try doin’ the clay pigeon exercise again to help you work on your TK,” Rogue said, walking down the long hallway towards the Professor’s study with a tray of cups and cookies while Jean and Logan followed. They’d just finished a evening training session together with Jean to work on her telekinesis.

It had only been a week since the showdown with Dukes and the whole thing had scared Jean more than she let on. The redhead had confided in both Charles and Rogue that she was worried about her powers as of late.

For whatever reason, her TK had been off.

A year ago, she knew she would have had almost no trouble working out how to free herself from the metal bonds Fred had wrapped around her, but now it was like some days she could barely levitate a book while others ended with her causing her whole bedroom to shake. Her telekinesis was tied to her emotions, which is the only reason she knew she had been able to attack Fred with the cabinet in the first place. He’d angered her enough that her power could be focused on a larger object, but she’d been too stressed to work the bonds restraining her without harming herself.

The whole situation just felt like she was losing control, but Rogue was determined to help her figure out the source of whatever was blocking her progress.

“The last time we tried that I hit Scott right in the face,” Jean remined them.

“Yeah, but ya’ didn’t hurt ‘im,” Logan said, his lips twitching at the memory of Cyclops breaking almost every clay pigeon Jean had hurled at him, except one that smacked the kid right between the eyes.

They laughed for days.

“He needed stitches!” Jean cried.

“He wears eye protection!”

“Quick bickerin’ and get the door,” Rogue said as they reached the study.

“It’s open, dear,” Charles called out from inside, all three of them noting how the door was cracked open rather than closed completely.

Logan led the way and opened it for Rogue to enter with the tray, following Jean inside as they made their way over to the couch.

“How’s things goin’ with Storm’s nephew?” Rogue asked.

They were all hoping the weather witch could convince her nephew, Evan, to join her at the mansion, already having confirmed his mutant abilities. The boy had the X-Gene, no doubt, but so far Storm’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

Charles, who was seated at Cerebro, opened his eyes to give them all a weary smile. “It would seem young Mr. Daniels is reluctant to heed Storm’s caution of his powers. The boy, unfortunately, poses both a threat to himself as well as others due to the unique attributes of his bone spikes. Storm mentioned there was an incident during the game as well as in the locker room afterwards, but no one was injured, thank goodness.”

“Bone spikes?” Jean wondered aloud.

“Yes,” Charles nodded. “Evan’s mutation allows his body to rapidly form and produce multiple fragments of bone to use as projectiles. It is a rather fascinating physical mutation, though I’m concerned that the boy does not fully grasp the severity of wielding such a gift unchecked. I know Storm’s concern for his safety as grown exponentially in the last year.”

“Sounds deadly,” Logan remarked while sitting on the sofa. He knew a thing or two about having dangerous bones bursting from the body on accident. The thought of a young kid going through the same thing was enough to make his gut clench uncomfortably.

“Immensely,” Charles agreed.

Rogue handed the Professor his teacup, offering him the cream. “Ah’m guessin’ the kid’s ignorance hasn’t caught up t’ him yet.”

“No, but I hope it doesn’t come to that,” the Professor sighed, stirring his tea. “His mutation is unpredictable, as Storm noted earlier this evening.”

“So, what’s the plan exactly?” Logan asked, snatching a cookie from the tray. “Not like we can force the kid.”

“No, but we can speak to him and try to reach him through logic. I know most youngsters believe they know everything,” Charles chuckled softly. “But Evan needs to understand that he is not like other children his age. Unlike his classmates, they don’t have to worry about impaling someone if they sneeze.”

“That’s what happened?” Jean gaped, nearly dropping her own cup.

“Storm apparently had quite the mess to clean up tonight,” he smirked. “The school won’t be pleased to find new holes in their boys’ locker room.”

“Like I said; deadly,” Logan muttered around a mouthful.

“And like any mutation that has such lethal repercussions if left unchecked, I’m afraid we may need to push the issue more than Storm has been willing to. If Evan accidently…” Charles trailed off, looking at his cup with commiseration. He did not need to speak the truth for the others to understand his fears.

If Evan accidently killed someone, there would be nothing they could do to help him and the reprecusions that could have against mutants could be unfathomable.

“Then Ah guess it’s time we introduce ourselves to Storm’s family,” Rogue surmised. “We ride at dawn!”

The following morning, Rogue found herself in the backseat of Charles’ car with Jean while Logan drove, heading to NYC so they could offer Storm their assistance, but rather than enjoy the peaceful ride, she’d been on the phone for the last five minutes with their Boy Scout who just found out he’d been downgraded to babysitter. 

“You left without me!?”

Rogue rolled her eyes and held her cellphone away from her ear, “Ya’ actin’ like it’s the end a’ the world. We don’t wanna overwhelm ‘em, sugah.”

From the other end of the phone, she could hear Scott groan in boredom before he sighed heavily, “Maybe I wanted to go to get some New York pizza. Ever think of that? Hmm? A new teammate would just be a bonus.”

“You’d choose pizza over a mission?”

“You may well judge me.”

“Ah’ll bring ya’ a slice when we head home,” she smirked. “But don’t count on us comin’ back tonight. Ah have a feelin’ this kid is gonna dig his heels in like a Alabama tick.”

“…did you just quote Predator?”

“You may well judge meh.”

Scott huffed out a laugh over the line, muffling the speaker as he called out to get Kurt’s attention before returning, “Just promise me you’ll be careful. If the Professor is really worried about Evan’s powers then I don’t want you running in to be the hero. This is next level stuff.”

Rogue knew that Scott was concerned, especially after the whole thing with Dukes, and she and Jean had had to deal with him being a smidgen overprotective. Being the three oldest, they had a different bond than just friendship and all three of them were still getting used to having other new students around the manor full time, but Scott had always gone above and beyond to watch out for them since he was the “oldest” - …as far as he knew, anyway – and often played the protector role to a fault.

This was one such example.

“Ya’ worry too much. Ain’t you got a bus to catch?” she snarked.

“More like drive the bus,” he sighed. “Trying to corral Kurt and Kitty into the car is like trying to herd squirrels!”

“May the force be with you, Young Summers.”

“You’re all over the map with movie quotes today.”

“What can Ah say? Ah’m a connoisseur of great cinema. Hurry up and get the squirrels to school before y’all are late.”

“Bring me pizza!”

“Mah choice on toppings!”

Hanging up, Rogue shook her head while Jean giggled beside her. They’d taken off in the car before anyone else was even awake back at the manor. There was little point in taking the Blackbird considering they were not traveling far. It was kinda nice to get to enjoy the scenery of the state from the ground for once.

“I take it Scott’s having a blast with Kitty and Kurt,” Jean snickered.

Charles chuckled from the front seat, “I’m sure Scott will handle things at home in our absence. I agree, dear, that we do not want to overwhelm Mr. Daniels or his parents. Taking everyone on this excursion would have been excessive.”

“Think Scott’ll have an aneurism by the time we get home?” Jean asked teasingly. “Kurt’s been driving him crazy lately with how slow he is in the morning. I think he’s been late like four times in the past month.”

“Boy Scout will be fine,” Logan smirked from the driver seat. “He’ll get his ducks in a row.”

“He doesn’t have ducks. Or a row. He has squirrels. And they’re everywhere,” Rogue deadpanned.

New York City, New York

Evan was not looking forward to having any kind of talk with his parents or Auntie O when he got home after school. After the game the previous night, Ororo had tried to talk to him about his weird mutation and even attempted to get him to tell his parents, but he wasn’t ready.

Was that so hard to understand?

It was his mutant ability right? So, he should have the final say in everything! Neither his mom nor his dad were mutants, only Auntie Ororo.

How would they even react to knowing their son was a freak?

A part of him knew he wasn’t being fair, not only to himself but to others, but everything seemed to be spiraling out of control for him. He’d been careful not to trigger his ability – or whatever you wanted to call it – but lately he’d been slipping more and more, and there were only so many holes he could cover on his bedroom walls with posters. 

“Man,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against his locker. “This blows…”

“What blows?”

Jumping at the sudden appearance of a voice behind him, Evan whipped around to find Pietro standing there with his arms crossed and raised eyebrows, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips.

“Dude, don’t scare me like that!” Evan complained, slamming his locker shut.

“Got troubles, Daniels?” Pietro snickered. “What is it? Grades? Not enough lunch money? Girl turn you down for homecoming! Am I in the ballpark?”

“Family troubles,” he muttered.

Pietro scoffed and narrowed his eyes, casting a look to the side rather than the other boy. His playful banter suddenly shifting. “Tch. You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Evan looked surprised at the sheer contempt in his rival’s tone. As far as he knew, Pietro grew up in a semi-normal household, so why did he sound so pissed? His mom always seemed awesome and kind, a lot like his own in fact, and the other teen had everything given to him on a silver platter.

What family trouble could Maximoff possibly have?

“Look man, I don’t wanna fight. My aunt’s trying to butt in on my life and now she’s trying to get my parents involved,” he murmured, shrugging helplessly.

“And what is Auntie Storm trying to do?” Pietro taunted childishly, smirking at Evan’s plight. “Convert another stray to that private school of hers?”

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Evan backtracked and took a step away, wondering where the other teen was going with this. As far as he knew, no one was aware of where his aunt lived and worked unless they knew the true inner workings of the institute and its inhabitants. “What do you know about that?”

Pietro grinned mischievously, “More than you do, Daniels. That, I can guarantee.”

It took a moment for Evan to connect the dots, blinking dumbly, but it suddenly hit him why Pietro was trying to rile him up. As though a thousand puzzle pieces locked into place, he seemingly had an epiphany about his so-called rival.

Holy sh—

“You’re a mu--!” he cried, only to be cut off by a hand covering his mouth while fierce blue eyes glared at him.

“You wanna keep your voice down!” Pietro sneered, glancing around them to make sure they were completely alone in the hallway. “First rule? Don’t go around telling everybody what you are, idiot!”

Smacking the taller teen’s hand away, Evan could hardly believe what was happening. He thought he was the only one at their school. He’d never even met another…person…like him besides his aunt Ororo.

“This is crazy,” he breathed, still stunned by the revelation. “But—b-but how--?”

“My old man,” Pietro shrugged, losing some of his own fire. His eyes went hard for a split second and Evan remembered that Pietro had never had a stellar relationship with his dad. The few times Evan had even seen the older man were few and far between. They'd never even formally met before and all Evan could say for certain was that Pietro looked almost exactly like his father. Same stark white hair and skin-tone, and he was certain if he'd looked hard enough he would probably find that their eyes were similar as well. 

Now that he really thought about it, it had been a long time since he’d even seen Pietro’s father around. 

Okay, maybe the guy did have a few family drama issues…so what.  

“You know how lucky you are that no one saw what happened yesterday?” Pietro continued, poking Evan’s chest harshly. “That little stunt on the basketball court could have been a nightmare if anyone else saw it, and it wouldn’t just be you people would come after, Daniels! Are you really so weak that you can’t even take one little hit without spiking out?”

Reeling back, somewhat annoyed at the other boy’s call-out, Evan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms defensively. “It wasn’t a big deal, man! I have it under control.”

“Do you?” Pietro hissed in disbelief. “Because the locker room’s new make-over says otherwise, and you're lucky no one was in there to see it happen.”

Wincing, Evan tried to brush it off like he had with his aunt. It wasn’t a big deal. So, he messed up a little, so what? It wasn’t as if anyone got hurt. The school had insurance, or whatever, and the only one who saw him was Auntie O.

“Just as I guessed,” Pietro rolled his eyes. “You don’t know anything, do you.”

“And you do?” Evan barked, feeling ridiculed like he’d been made the butt of an inside joke. What did this jerk know anyway? It wasn’t like there was a freakin’ manual for this shit!

“Unlike you, I know how to have fun,” the white-haired boy grinned, suddenly disappearing in the blink of an eye. His immediate vanishing act caused Evan to jump and look around wildly.

“Pietro?” he sputtered, searching the hall for any sign of the other teen. “Wha--? Pietro!”

But the other boy was long gone…

The moment Evan stepped foot into his home after basketball practice that evening, he was met by the sight of his whole family as well as a handful of new faces.

An older man in a wheelchair greeted him first, rolling forward to introduce himself with Storm at his side. “Good evening, Evan. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Charles Xavier, the Professor your Aunt Ororo works with in Bayville. She’s had nothing but good things to say about her favorite nephew.”

Already knowing where this was going, Evan held back the urge to turn on his heel and leave or run upstairs and hide in his room like a little kid, but he held it together because he knew his parents would kill him if he was rude to any guest in their home.

“Hey,” he offered half-heartedly.

“Evan,” Storm coaxed, walking around him to place her hands on his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s alright. You’re not in trouble, child.”

“Sweetheart,” Evan’s mother, Vivian, spoke up. “I know this is a lot, but it’s not as shocking as you seem to think it is for us. We always knew this was a possibility, honey.”

“Your mother is correct, Evan,” Storm continued. “While she did not receive the X-Gene as I did, she still carried it in her DNA and we always knew it could show up in future generations. It is no different than eye color or any other genetic anomaly.”

“Yeah, sure,” Evan rolled his eyes. “So, you knew this could happen and decided to have me anyway. Got it.”

“Evan!” His dad scolded, catching the flash of sadness from both his wife and sister-in-law. “Son, I know you’re frustrated but lashing out at us isn’t going to help solve anything, it’s only going to hurt all of us. We love you no matter what, understand? You having the X-Gene doesn’t change that.”

Evan at least had the decency to look ashamed for his uncalled-for comment. He was frustrated, yes, but he was also annoyed that other people were trying to make decisions for him. Whether they wanted to say it or not, they were trying to push him into leaving New York, his home, his school and his parents.

How was that fair?

“Sorry,” he muttered, still feeling too riled up to give anything more sincere. “But you aren’t the one who has to deal with it.”

“You’re right, kid,” Logan stated from behind the loveseat while leveling the teen with a hard stare. “But you aren’t the only mutant in the world either. Everyone who manifests a mutation goes through a hard adjustment and givin’ yer folks Hell over it ain’t gonna help you. Like yer old man said, it’s just gonna cause you to say somethin’ you don’t mean. Words hurt, kid. Remember that and remember it well.”

Still unable to see passed his own nose, Evan merely scoffed under his breath and crossed his arms, “And what do you know about it? Do you have bones just randomly pop out of you?”

It was meant to be rhetorical, a subtle poke to get the dude to back off, but Evan was shocked when Logan lifted his hand and three long shining blades burst from his knuckles.

“Yeah…I do,” Logan rumbled. “Only mine got upgraded with metal. Still think you’re the only one with problems here?”

The feral’s words weren’t spoken in anger, but there was enough of a reprimand in his tone to make Evan re-think his words.

Charles took the opportunity to step in and motioned towards the others gathered around the living room, “Evan, I’d like to introduce you to my students and colleagues. This is Logan, Jean Gray and Rogue. Logan, as you’ve seen, has three identical bone claws in each arm. His entire skeleton was grafted in metal earlier in his life which is why his claws are more similar to blades. His code name is Wolverine.”

“Don’t get too excited, kid,” Logan interrupted, seeing the sudden look of awe cross over Evan’s face at the mention of his skeleton. “It wasn’t by choice.”

“Wolverine is another instructor at the Institute,” Storm followed up. “He and Rogue are in charge of teaching our students self-defense. Rogue is still a student, but she already had prior martial arts training before joining us.”

“I’m Jean, and this is Rogue,” the redhead waved from the couch, pointing to the other girl beside her.

“And what do you do?” Evan asked skeptically, still holding his ground that all this was for naught.

“Well, I actually have more than one ability,” Jean smiled. She focused on the coffee table in front of her and levitated a magazine up and into her hands. 

“You move stuff?” Evan gaped, having to admit that it was kind of cool. Why couldn’t his own thing be that awesome? Being able to move anything he wanted? He’d never leave the couch again!

‘Telekinesis. I’m also a telepath, like Professor Xavier’ a female voice suddenly said inside of Evan’s mind, making him jump and look around in confusion. It took him a second to realize it had been Jean, seeing the sly grin on her lips as she met his surprised gaze.

Freaky.

“Jean and Rogue are only two out of the five students currently residing at the manor full time,” Storm said. “It is where they can safely learn to control their gifts—"

“You seriously don’t give up, do you, Auntie?” Evan wailed, throwing his hands up. “I get it, okay! Weirdo central is where you wanna ship me off to but I don’t need help, alright!”

“Evan,” Storm’s voice hardened in a way Evan was unaccustomed to, silencing him instantly. “I understand that you disagree, and you have every right to feel upset, but I will not stand by and allow you to disparage all that I believe in and stand for, child. Xavier has dedicated his life to helping mutants – children – learn to live with their mutations. You are young, hardly more than a boy now, and so you have not come to understand the cruelty of the world and those who would do great evil against us simply for being who we are. I pray that it will never happen, but I know that is a farce as I have both seen and experienced it myself.”

“Roe,” Vivian whispered, visibly upset at the insinuation that her sister had been maligned by others. She knew it had happened, of course, but to hear Ororo speak of it out loud was difficult to hear. Being subjected to hate over the color of their skin was horrible enough, but Ororo also faced the bigotry of anti-mutant humans that knew of their existence.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, as everyone held their breath to see who would speak next, what would be said, and how it would be received. Charles and the others knew that this was most likely their last chance to convince Evan that he did, in fact, need help learning to control his power, and it was forcing Ororo to set aside her benevolence in a battle of wills to try and get through to the intransigent boy. If Evan continued to dig his heels in and refused to see reason, then there was a strong possibility that they would not be able to help aid him before an accident occurred.

By then, depending on the severity, it may be too late…

Rogue, who had remained silent and observing the entire time, took the tense silence as a cue to jump in and possibly be the bad guy. That was fine, though, because the alternative was worse in her opinion.

“Look here, Porcupine. Ah’m not ya’ Aunt or ya’ Mama n’ Daddy, so Ah got no qualms about givin’ it to you straight, kid. You’re a mutant. Accept it, move forward and learn t’ live with your mutation or keep squallin’ like an obdurate tween who thinks he knows betta’ than everyone else,” she contended, standing up to walk over to the teen. “You think you have it all figured out, huh? Ya’ little show a’ power last night says otherwise, kiddo. What would you have done if you’d hit your Auntie? One lil’ sneeze and ya’ blowin’ darts in every direction, sugah…that ain’t control. That tells meh you don’t have a lick a’ true control over that mutation a’ yours.”

“Is that true, Evan?” Mr. Daniels demanded, eyes widening at the idea of his son harming – or worse – his own aunt on accident. The thought alone made him and his wife sick to their stomachs with worry.

Evan floundered for a moment, “I-It was an accident! I swear!”

“And that is precisely what we are concerned with, Evan,” Charles stated gently. “We know what happened both on the basketball court as well as the locker room yesterday were both accidents and I know you did not intend to do any harm, but without learning proper control over your power…I’m afraid more accidents will occur in your future. That is why we are here, my boy.”

“We only want to help you,” Storm said resolutely. “But we can’t if you refuse to let us, Evan.”

For Evan, it felt like the room was closing in on him and he could feel himself getting angrier. This was all spiraling out of his control and he hated it.

Why did this have to happen to him? 

“Look, I know you’re trying to help me or whatever, but I’m not upheaving my whole life here to go live in some home for freaks!” he growled.

“If mutants are ‘freaks’, you wanna be the pot or the kettle?” Rogue asked blandly, unimpressed. “Normally Ah don’t take kindly to bein’ insulted, but Ah also see when someone’s projectin’ their own feelings onto others, so Ah’ll let it slide. That said, Ah ain’t gonna speak for the other mutants in this room you just insulted, including your Aunt.”

“It’s alright, Rogue,” Ororo breathed out, though she was offended herself and felt stung by her nephew’s blunt insult. She was, however, beginning to waiver.

Perhaps this endeavor was not to be.

Rogue glanced at Ororo and could see the growing anxiety and turmoil slowly overtaking the weather goddess. She knew the others were trying to be kind, to try and get through to Evan without coming across as controlling, but clearly that wasn’t working. If it weren’t for the kid’s mutation, she would have gone along with it and left the situation as it was, but this boy wasn’t going to learn the truth about deadly consequences by having others tiptoe around him.

And frankly, she was done listening to the boy hurt his family’s feelings.

Stepping closer, she hardened her eyes and made it so Evan’s focus was solely on her. It was time for the kid to get a wake-up call, and if she had to be the villain, so be it.

“Alright. Ah’m givin’ one last dose a reality to ya’ an’ Ah’ve said mah peace. You wanna see the outcome of losin’ control? This is what happens when you don’t have control,” she stormed with unwavering firmness, reaching down to jerk her shirt upwards to reveal three identical scars marring the pale skin of her stomach. “This is what happens when you lose control, Evan. You wanna know what did this? Wolverine’s claws did this, kid.”

“Rogue—” Logan murmured, wanting to step forward but was stopped by Charles’ hand.

‘Let her finish, Logan’ Charles projected calmly. ‘I know it seems harsh, but I fear the boy needs to hear it, my friend.’

Rogue continued on even after Evan’s face paled, his eyes zeroed in on her scars. “A grown man, who has had years of experience, can still slip up and when you let your emotions take hold, this is the result. An’ the only reason Ah’m alive is because of mah own mutation. You’re just a kid, one who thinks he has total control over his gift, an’ Ah got news for ya’…you don’t. So tell meh, what’s gonna happen the next time someone is in your line a’ fire and you can’t keep those bones at bay?”

Evan took a trembling step backwards, looking over at his parents to see that they were just as scared as he was now.

It wasn’t…it couldn’t happen--

“What’ll happen the next time you falter, an’ those spikes a’ yours don’t miss?” Rogue continued without sympathy. “Newsflash; we won’t be able to help you then. So, either grow the Hell up and accept the fact that you need help or keep up this fantasy you have and live with the consequences when shit goes south. It’s your choice. But you betta’ make damn sure you understand that you’re the one who has to live with the consequences of those choices.”

Now deathly quiet and off-put, Evan took a few more steps backwards while Rogue kept eye-contact with him. He didn’t know how to deal with any of this nor did he know what to say.

This wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair.

Turning on his heel, he silently bolted up the stairs to seek refuge in his bedroom. He just needed to get away from all of this. Forming a plan inside his head, he rushed to his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Back in the living room, everyone sat quiet for a few moments, listening to the petulant teen’s door close violently.

“Well,” Jean said, pursing her lips. “That went well.”

“You can say that again,” Logan mumbled, fixing the hood of Rogue’s overshirt that was rumpled. He was still a little unnerved over her showing Evan her scars, the ones he still had a hard time looking at.

That was a horrific memory he could do without…

“I’m sorry about that,” Mr. Daniels conveyed apologetically. “I apologize for my son, Mr. Xavier. I know he’s going through a lot right now but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Daniels,” Charles said easily. “Your son is not the first to oppose our overture, nor will he be the last, I’m afraid. That said, I don’t want either of you to think we’re giving up on your boy.”

“Do you think he’ll come around?” Vivian asked, looking over at Storm for comfort. In hard times, she’d always looked to her sister to act as her pillar.

“We can only hope, Vi,” Ororo said, her tone subdued due to the concern she held for her nephew.

“Uhh, guys? I hate to break any more bad news, but Evan just snuck out of his bedroom window…” Jean sighed.

Pinching her brow, Rogue took a deep breath and blew it out, “Awesome.”

“We really need to work on our sales pitch,” Logan deadpanned.

“What do they know? Nothing. I’m not like those losers and I’ll prove it!” Evan chanted over and over to the empty streets as he skated down the sidewalk at warp speed. His anger fueled him, forcing him to go faster and faster as he flew down the street.

He just needed to get out of the house.

He was overwhelmed and pissed off.

A horrible combination, really…

He wasn’t even sure where he was even headed until the school suddenly appeared in the distance. The stadium grew closer and Evan wondered if he could spend a few hours relaxing in the gym or something. It couldn’t be that hard to sneak in, right?

As he sped closer to the school entrance, he could have sworn he felt a weird gust of wind fly passed him in the same direction, causing him to look around. However, when it happened again, he also heard someone laughing.

“What the--?” he wondered.

“Sup, Daniels!”

“AHHH!”

Evan cried out in shock when a silvery-haired blur suddenly appeared in front of him, causing him to lose his balance and careen off his board, skidding onto the sidewalk painfully. Cursing out a groan, he rubbed his sore muscles while looking up to see none other than Pietro Maximoff standing akimbo, smirking down at him.

“Rough night?” Pietro taunted, grinning down at Evan’s fallen form on the concrete.

“How’d you—dude,” Evan gaped, still trying to understand what it actually was Pietro was capable of. He knew the guy was fast, but was he some kind of super runner or something? “What are you wearing?”

Rather than his usual ensemble of designer denim and high-priced shoes, Pietro was dressed in a teal and silver uniform of some kind. His white shoes – or would you call them boots? – looked to be reinforced somehow, because they definitely didn’t look like anything you could buy at shop. The only parts of him that were visible were his face and upper neck, even his hands were decked out in fancy gloves.

“Like it? Gift from my Pops,” Pietro boasted, holding his arms out. “Gotta be good for somethin’, huh?”

Once again, Evan found himself wondering just what it was exactly that Pietro’s father did for a living…

“Cool, man,” he offered sincerely, because the other teen did look pretty awesome. He briefly wondered what his Auntie O looked like in her uniform.

“So, what brings ya’ out here so late?” Pietro asked, talking as fast as usual. “Evening stroll? Chinese take-out craving? Girl troubles? Boy troubles? So what’s the scoop!? Or is it actually scoops, because I am so down for ice cream!”

“No,” Evan waved his hand, standing up and retrieving his skateboard. “Nothing like that. I just needed some air, man. I thought I could maybe get into the school and just hang for a few hours.”

Pietro’s eyes lit up and he grinned brightly, “Break into the school, you say? Now you’re talkin’ my language, Daniels! Come on!”

Before Evan to disagree or blink, he felt something touch the back of his head and it suddenly felt like he was being pulled through a wind tunnel! In less than a split second, he found himself standing outside the back doors of the school, a good block and half from where he’d just been.

What the fuck—

Bile rose in his throat and he covered his mouth, willing himself not to vomit. His whole body felt like he’d been on the world’s fastest roller-coaster.

“You’re good, don’t freak out, it happens to everybody,” Pietro snickered, roughly patting the other boy’s back as he tried to hold down his dinner. “It’ll pass.”

“What just happened?” Evan gasped breathlessly, taking a few deep breaths.

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Pietro threw his head back with a groan of annoyance. “Speedster, dude! You wanted to know what I was capable of? I’m the fastest person alive, Daniels. My body, my brain, everything about me moves at a pace you can’t even comprehend. It’s like watching the rest of you move like sloths running a marathon!”

That…did sound pretty lame, honestly.

“Now hurry up and use your power to get us inside!” Pietro cajoled, pushing Evan towards the locked doors. “Come on! Come on! Move it!”

“Don’t rush me, man!” Evan scowled, looking at the locks with hesitation. He’d never done anything like this before. What could it hurt, though? It was just a lock. The school was empty and they’d probably have it replaced by tomorrow.

Smirking, he created a small bone fragment and used it like a pick. He’d show them that he did have control. If he could willingly create his spikes, then he had control.

Isn’t that what his Auntie O kept hounding him about?

Sliding the bone into the keyhole, he twisted it around until he felt it give way. The door clicked open and he let out a cheerful whoop! Piece of cake.

“Come on!” he urged, rushing inside with Pietro on his heels. “Dude, that was freakin’ sweet!”

Pietro stood looking around with gleaming eyes, rubbing his hands together thoughtfully, “Sweet indeed.”

“What do you wanna do, man? The gym should be unlocked—”

“You do you, Daniels! Me? I already got my eye on another prize,” the speedster grinned, disappearing in a flash.

“Wha—Pietro!” Evan took off down the hallway, searching every corner for the white-haired teen. The sound of lockers flying open and slamming against themselves sent him careening down the hall to where the student lockers were. As he turned the corner, he was shocked at the state of the hallway.

Papers, pens and pencils, notebooks and binders lay scattered across the school floor. Every locker lining the hallway was open and it looked as if each one had been ransacked.

“Score!” Pietro’s voice came from behind him, making Evan jump.

Swirling around, Evan found the other teen standing with an armload of items, ranging from snacks to cash to – was that a silver jacket? – quarter rolls from the locker room dispensers.

“What are you doing, dude!? We can’t steal anything!” Evan scrambled nervously.

“Correction. You can’t. I happen to do it all the time,” Pietro claimed around a mouthful of chips he’d stolen from the vending machine.

“Buy why?” Evan questioned skeptically, trying to wrap his head around what he’d gotten himself into. He knew now that this was a mistake.

“I have the time and the ability,” Pietro shrugged. “When you move as fast as me you gotta get your kicks somehow! Thanks for giving me a key, Daniels. Ya’ been a big help!”

“But I didn’t—”

Their conversation was cut off by the sound of sirens approaching outside and the tell-tell screeching of police cars arriving. In that moment, it occurred to Evan that the school must have had a silent alarm that he hadn’t considered.

Dammit.

“Uh-ohhh, looks like the party’s over,” Pietro jested, wiggling his eyebrows. “Better make your escape before the fuzz finds ya’, dude.”

“What?” Evan gasped, looking around frantically for an exit. “How are we supposed to get out of here?”

“I have a way,” the speedster stated, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth while grinning cheekily. “Run!”

And he was gone, just like that.

‘That sneaky no-good son of a—’ Evan growled in his head, turning to try and find a way out before he was caught. Luck was certainly not on his side though, as lights hit him the moment he turned the corner of the messy hallway.

“Stop right there!” an armed officer called out, bathing Evan in the light of his flashlight as others appeared beside him.

Evan held his breath and closed his eyes, holding his hands up as he was slowly surrounded by policemen. He never should have left the freakin’ house, man…

‘Mom’s gonna kill me’

The following morning, around an hour before noon, Evan was brought out of his brooding by the sound of the door opening at the other end of the holding cell he’d been in all night. After his arrest, he’d been taken to the juvenile holding facility. They’d taken his information and called his parents, but no one had been allowed to see him after hours. He’d been forced to wait to see what would happen.

It had been an incredibly lonely night…

“Evan!” his mom’s voice came from the other side of the cell, making him look up in hope of seeing his parents. Sure enough, his mom and dad were there, along with his aunt and her friends.

“Evan, what happened?” Mr. Daniels asked helplessly, never thinking he’d be speaking to his son through the bars of a jail cell.

“It wasn’t me!” Evan denied vehemently. “Dad, I swear--!”

“I believe we both know that is not entirely true, my boy,” Charles interrupted with a disapproving look.

From behind the others, Logan stood with his arms crossed while he leaned against the brick wall, “Welcome to the downside, kid. Misuse your powers, go to jail.”

“I didn’t mean—I didn’t steal anything!” Evan stressed, gripping the bars of the cell while willing himself to not spike out. “That wasn’t me, man!”

“I know you were not responsible for the theft, Evan,” Charles placated, but his formal tone did not waver. “However, you were responsible for the forced entry. Breaking and entering is still a crime all its own.”

As if the wind had been struck from his sails, Evan collapsed against the bars and tried to hold back tears of frustration.

This was all spiraling out of control.

Why was he being punished for everything when Maximoff held more blame than him!

“Evan, please, child,” Storm begged, laying her hand atop her nephews. “Let us help you.”

“Please be smart about this, son,” Mr. Daniels pleaded. “Let them try.”

Logan, Rogue and Jean all shared a look of apprehension, shrugging minutely as though to portray their feelings on the matter. At that point, they’d all said their peace. The decision had to be Evans, not theirs.

“I will make you a deal, Evan,” Charles said diplomatically, folding his fingers together. “I will use my influence to have you released into your aunt’s official custody, to serve out the allotted timeframe of whatever disciplinary probation the judge here deems, in Bayville. In return, you let us help you learn to use your gifts accordingly by giving the Institute a chance. If you wish to stay after your probation is complete, then you are more than welcome to.”

Evan looked at the bars where his hands rested, once again feeling trapped in every sense of the word.

“Do I even have a choice?” he asked snappishly.

“Are we really gonna have this conversation again?” Rogue asked, raising her brow at his snark.  

He looked down, feeling a little foolish for his continued attitude. There was no reason for it, and he couldn’t blame anyone else for his actions. He knew they were trying to help him…he was just—having trouble accepting it.

A gloved hand gently touched his chin to tilt his head up, soft grey eyes meeting his own while Rogue gave him a appraising look.

“You always have a choice, sugah. Ya’ family just want to help you make it a good one. Or would ya’ rather stay here, with nothin’ but ya’ thoughts and the occasional pigeon for company?” she deadpanned.

Swallowing his pride, Evan looked at the Professor ruefully, “Deal.”

Holding out his hand, Charles offered the boy a sincere smile, “Welcome to the X-Men, Mr. Daniels.”

Later on that same night...

The windows of a large bedroom rattled as Pietro skidded to a stop inside with his fresh haul of sweets and goodies, laughing at the sound of sirens echoing off in the distance knowing those goons would never be able to catch him. Even if they knew it was him, no one could prove it.

Besides, it was snack cakes! Who was gonna prosecute a kid over chocolate snack cakes!?

Rushing over to his bed with his last armful of sugary goodness, Pietro felt his windswept locks fall across his forehead in a messy tangle, blowing his bangs up out of his eyes. He’d gone out for late night snack, knocking over a pizza joint, two hotdog carts and a fudge shoppe before breaking into a minimart a few blocks over to re-stock his snack stash. With an ever-gnawing appetite like his, he needed all the calories he could get. Mom always kept the pantry and fridge stocked for his bottomless stomach, but why not use his speed to his advantage and fill his time by filling his belly?

Now, it was time for--

“Pietro,” a deep, molten voice reverberated through the room.

The teen stopped short and glanced over at the unexpected guest for a moment, wondering how he hadn’t sensed him before then.

The speedster snatched a cake to occupy himself before looking away in indifference, “…Pops.”

The larger-than-life mutant entered the room gracefully, his wide cape billowing across his shoulders like a curtain of maroon, the ever-present helmet gleaming under the light as he walked over.

The powerful Magneto in the flesh.

The Master of Magnetism.

The one and only Erik Lehnsherr.

…though Pietro mostly just called him Dad.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you. You’ve grown, son,” Erik remarked calmly, slowly reaching out a gloved hand to tame the boy’s mused wintery locks.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you’d bothered to drop by more often than once a freakin’ year,” Pietro muttered under his breath without missing a beat, letting his old man fix his wild hair. He had half a mind to reach up and mess it up again out of spite. It may have been a slight exageration, but over the last few years his old man had spent less and less time coming around and it had been nearly a full year since they'd done more than spoken over the phone. 

He wasn’t bitter, or anything…not at all.

Erik remained impassive to the underhanded prod and looked down into the eyes that were an exact reflection of his own. It had been almost a full year since he’d last visited in-person, but it was an endeavor that required his full attention and he could not risk his son being involved. Brief phone-calls were hardly enough to compensate his long absence, and as pressing as it may have been, he knew Pietro felt overlooked and, perhaps, second-best.

His tumultuous, ever-restless child.

“You needn’t worry,” he hushed the agitated teen. “My absence has nearly reached its end.”

“You said that last time,” the boy grumbled.

Erik felt his mouth twitch upwards as he looked down at his brooding son, always so impatient. “I heard about your recent escapade with the Daniels boy. Your frequent bouts of ennui have impelled you to cure your restlessness with erratic high jinks.”

“Englishhh!” Pietro groaned dramatically.

“You’re bored,” Erik said with a mixture of exasperation and fondness, something he felt quite often when dealing with his unruly child. He knew Pietro struggled with occupying his time in an orderly fashion.

Given his mutation and his incredible quickness, it was a wonder the boy could sit still at all.

“So what, you’re spying on me now?” the teen demanded petulantly.

“I’ve always kept a watchful eye over both of my children, Sohn,” he chastised, his own blue orbs hardening to a degree.

Pietro knew better than to argue, shifting his gaze to the floor while biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted to disagree with his old man, but he knew that Magneto was a man of his word when it was given, and though his life wasn’t perfect, he’d lived a very spoiled one. It didn’t surprise him to imagine his Pops keeping constant tabs on his twins.

“So what’s with the sudden visit?” he questioned, practically vibrating with the urge to move and run. “Just come to tell me that I’m bored? Old news.”

Erik could see the subtle vibrations coursing through his son and knew that Pietro loathed remaining stationery for too long. It was somewhat astounding that the boy’s antics hadn’t caused hysteria for the local police. Then again, he was also well aware that Pietro moved too fast for any camera to catch.

His boy was nothing if not talented.

“I came to extend an invitation,” he explained mildly. “I know you are growing restless here, Pietro. Your powers are improving at a remarkable rate, but it is not only your physical body that is in constant motion. All that pent-up energy is making you restive, son.”

Pietro shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but internally he was relieved his dad seemed to be able to read him so well, to admit he truly had an interest in the speedster’s day-to-day struggles. His old man wasn’t wrong either. It had been getting harder and harder to get through school and pass without driving himself totally batty. It wasn't the courses that were the problem, as he could read through any book and retain the knowledge in a matter of seconds, it was the stillness that got to him. He strived to stay in motion, so being forced to sit at a desk for hours on end was the epitome of torture for someone like him. 

About the only person besides himself that knew the exact details of his mutation was his dad.

The word invitation rang through his head and he found himself stuck on it. He wasn’t sure of the exact venture his old man had been cooking up over the last decade, as he’d never been allowed to know, but he did know that it had something to do with mutant sanctuary.

“I want you to come to Bayville,” Erik said. “An – associate - of mine has established a safe-house of sorts for young mutants, like yourself. Our goal is to keep our ranks together until my haven is complete.”

“Move to Bayville?” Pietro bemoaned, like the very thought disgusted him. It kinda did, to be honest. Bayville was a dump compared to New York City!

Where was he gonna get good pizza!?

“Think about the freedom you would have, Pietro,” his old man continued. “Your schooling would be of no consequence. You would be with others like yourself.”

Glancing at the door, Pietro wondered where his foster mom fit in to all this. She’d known from the start who and what he was, but that never seemed to bother her. She was a mutant as well, but her powers were so minor that Pietro never really thought of her as a mutant. She could make flowers bloom, something about artificial auxin or something, but whatever it was that she possessed would result in beautiful gardens each year. Even Storm and Mrs. Daniels would come around to chat with his mom in the back garden, one of the reasons he and Evan had always spent so much time together when they were younger. He’d been with her for so long that she was the closest thing he had to a mother, though he’d always considered her more to be like a cool Aunt that happened to have custody of him, unable to ever fully accept anyone else to fill the void of a parent except his dad. Before he’d been moved to live with her, it had only ever been him and his sister with their father, but those days were so far in the past he wasn’t even sure what it would be like anymore. He’d locked away so many of those early memories.

…not that Wanda would ever really come back.

“I’ve already made arrangements with your mother,” Erik revealed. “She agrees that a change would be helpful for you as well.”

Rolling his eyes, Pietro grumbled and crossed his arms, “So there wasn’t ever a choice. You’re still making decisions for me.”

“Pietro,” Erik enjoined, resting his large hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s time to look to the future.”

Pietro shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away, lowering his eyes, “Whatever…”

Not like he had choice anyway...