The Old Church
Xavier Institute, Westchester County, New York

The many students of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning moved across the snow covered grounds of the grand estate in a state of silent reverence. It was a sight that would warm even the coldest of hearts, a show of undying commitment to the faith and magic of Christmas. There were those unhappy to participate and those who had no interest in observing a Christian holiday when they had their own faith to follow but the Mutant Christian Union, as led by the detestable Idie Okonkwo, had organised a midnight mass to emphasise on the prayer and celebration of the festive time. Laurie Collins had always loved Christmas, and she’d loved attending masses with her mother but she struggled to feel anything but anger and bitterness as of late. Her boyfriend had been taken in the months prior and her every waking thought reverted back to him when she found a moment of silence. She’d tried keeping busy but nothing could snap her out of the funk she’d so easily descended into. Still, Laurie had to keep her emotions in check – they had a habit of spreading to those around her when uncontrolled.

“Am I late?”

The pheromone-manipulating mutant looked up, much of her lower face was hidden amidst the swaths of blue cotton that made up her scarf but the dazzling sapphire eyes, so much like those of her mother, were clear to see. “Mom?”

“I got a phone call from Doctor McCoy this morning and he thought that since I lived so close I might like to come and join in with your midnight service, sweetie,” Gail Collins smiled brightly at her daughter. Her vision danced as she took in the entirety of the grounds, which had a beauty mostly taken for granted by the students and staff that surrounded her. “It really is beautiful with all the snow and the lights.”

She noticed Laurie hadn’t replied. Things had changed in recent months since the abduction of Joshua Guthrie. Laurie had lost both of the men in her life and a distinct lack of a father had regrettably left her needy. Gail had always pampered her in an attempt to overcompensate for the mistakes of her youth and the secrets she’d kept hidden but Laurie wasn’t the girl she had been back in Connecticut. Distant and colder, Gail barely recognised the only person in the world she’d ever been able to truly love. She reached her hand out, drawing the light blue scarf drew her gloved fingers.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Laurie nodded. “It’s getting cold.”

“I’ve been speaking with Mister Guthrie, honey, and–”

“Don’t,” Laurie pleaded.

“Maybe if we just stepped to the side for a minute,” reasoned her mother. “We could join up with the procession again after.”

Laurie frowned. “I don’t want to talk. I’m all talked out. I want to do something, to help, to save him, but I can’t. I couldn’t then and I won’t get the chance too. I need time and space for that and I don’t want McCoy or Guthrie or you or anyone else sticking their noses into my business. I’m fine.”

It was clear that Gail had so much she’d wanted to say, so much she’d wanted to protect her from, but in her haze of frustration, Laurie wasn’t ready to hear it. She’d once been pleasant and happy, popular and unafraid, but things had changed since she’d become a mutant and found herself in an entirely unfamiliar world. It was a world Gail hadn’t experienced and for the first time in her life, the Connecticut-born mutant was entirely on her own without a guiding hand to catch her should she fall. It was terrifying. Still, the added pressure of being an outcast was nothing compared to the trauma’s she’d faced since arriving at the school. Death and destruction seemed to be an annual occurrence and mourning a part of the curriculum. Laurie, who had only known her mother for the majority of her life, had never known grief and now, she felt it all too harshly.

Still, as she looked in the strong features of her mother she noticed them become taut and stretched. Gail held back the emotions she felt, and Laurie seen she had wounded her. Brushing her blonde hair from her face, Laurie looped her arm in through her mother’s and pulled her forward.

“Look, let’s just leave it,” she forced a smile on her fragile face. “You can sit with me and it’ll be just like Saint Bernadette’s back home. We can ring in Christmas together.”

“I’d like that.”

“Hey, man.”

Dallas Gibson slipped past the mother and daughter duo and slapped his hand on the green-toned shoulders of Victor Borkowski. The blond haired Adonis was a vision, even wrapped up in his old high school letterman jacket and fitted white shirt. His hair was casually messy, the senior constantly sported a serious case of bedhead. He was the epitome of health and masculinity. Victor, in comparison, had been sneezing for the entire procession in the throes of a serious winter cold. For some reason, he’d gotten the same cold every year at the change of the seasons. It actually made him nervous to be seen by the co-chair of the Mutant Christian Union since his growing attraction to the boy had come to the forefront of his mind. In their brief conversation earlier in the week, which Victor had been avoiding as of late, the reptilian mutant wasn’t sure whether or not he’d attend. Yet, in the course of sickness he’d needed a reminder of home.

“I’m glad you came in the end.”

Victor smiled as he blew his nose into a handkerchief. “I was going to stay in bed but it’s Christmas and when my parent’s rang they were on their way to chapel so I guess I . . .”

“Missed your family?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry,” Dallas smiled. “Daddy was talking me through his sermon this morning and it brought back some memories. It was worse since Austen was back from college and I’m stuck here.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “Wait,” he wondered aloud. “You’re from Texas and you and your brother are named after cities in the state?”

He laughed.

“Yeah,” Dallas rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he replied. “Sister actually but still. Daddy has a lot of Texan pride.”

“So I see. I never knew you had a sister.”

Dallas smiled coyly. “Well, if you’d stay long enough to have a conversation rather than running off when you see me, you might’ve.”

“I–“

Victor’s stumbling was interrupted.

“Dallas?”

“Oh look. Even queers celebrate the Lord’s birth.”

Dallas’ features darkened as he turned towards the Nigerian mutant and his co-chair. His lips were taut and firm as he faced her. “Idie.”

“What? Have I hurt your sensibilities, Dallas?” Her dark braids were drawn into a form of chignon atop her head. She wore less clothing than those who accompanied her. Her ability to manipulate ice and fire kept her body at a consistently moderate temperature. “I suppose Doctor McCoy did say everyone was welcome.”

Melody Guthrie, girlfriend of Dallas, moved forward and wrapped her arms around his waist as she gave Idie a reproachful glance. “Don’t be cruel,” she murmured in her sultry southern drawl. “I’m glad you could make it. It’s always nice to meet Dallas’ friends.”

“Even if they are questionable.”

“Idie.”

She exhaled heavily.

Victor, uneasy, backed away. “I should be going.” He disappeared into the quickly moving procession.

“Idie,” snarled her co-chair. “Who do you think you are to treat anyone like that? Don’t think I didn’t hear about what you said to the fairy girl or that girl with the mouths on her neck either. I’ve know exactly what your brand of faith is.”

Idie crossed her arms. “Sometimes, Dallas. The truth is painful to hear.”

Doctor Henry McCoy, the heroic mutant known as Beast, boomed over the dull monotonic whispers of the students and staff gathered for the Christmas celebrations. “If everyone can make their way inside. We’ll begin shortly.”

His attention caught the shuffling Englishman who had recently returned to the folds of the school staff, after a stint with a group of terrorists masquerading as X-Men. Hank was a learned man and forgiveness came easier to him than to his colleagues, he saw the path to redemption that Jonothon Starsmore could take if given the chance and the descent he would take if abandoned by everyone who he had once held dear. Jono was stoic and aloof, he’d distanced himself from the group of students he had once considered his friends, and he’d largely relegated himself to the confines of his room. To date, he hadn’t even taught any of the lessons he’d been enlisted to teach.

Still, Hank saw promise in the youth.

“Jono,” his whiskered face smiled as his eyes looked over his spectacles at the guitar case the trainee teacher carried. “I’m glad you came around. I’m assuming you and Paige–”

Jono glared. His lower face and chest had been heavily disfigured in the explosion of his powers at adolescence, thus rendering him incapable of speech, but beyond the furnace that raged in this emptied cavity, he had also gained telepathic abilities. “Paige is . . . co-operating.”

He let out a jolly laugh. “I knew she’d come around eventually.”

“I wouldn’t say she came around. Paige just loves Christmas.”

“She does.”

Both of the men turned to see the young woman in question. Paige Guthrie, the All-American bombshell from the Deep South, stood with her hands on her hips. She was dressed in black skinny jeans and a pink turtleneck, her glove and scarf a light grey. Paige was reminiscent of the woman he had known in his youth, she looked identical to that girl from the Massachusetts Academy, but Jono had learned the harsh reality that that girl was no longer present in the Kentuckian’s brain. War had made her colder, icier, and Jono’s betrayal – of not only her but also the entire institution of the X-Men that she had built her life around – had only assisted in her ever growing disillusionment.

“Now, are we going to get this started? Everyone’s almost inside already.”

“Sure.”

Jono moved closer to the door as Paige took an uneasy place beside him. Hank McCoy stood just aside from them, his wide smile infectious to those who walked past him into the chapel. His fingers strummed at the guitar as his former girlfriend began to sing.

♪ “God rest ye, merry gentlemen. Let nothing ye dismay. Remember, Christ, our Saviour was born on Christmas Day . . .”♪

GOD REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN

By Gavin McMahon

The Lounge

Kitty Pryde bit into the powerful, spiced flavours of the carrot and coriander fritters that had been left on display. As the sole member of Jewish staff, she had taken the opportunity to explore her belief system with that of her students by arranging a get-together. Brown hair was drawn into a messy chignon that rested upon her right shoulder, the Star of David swung from her neck as she looked around the small but enthusiastic gathering of students. There was something fulfilling about witnessing the closeness of the small community within the Institute that had been her home since the age of thirteen. Kitty was under no allusions that her life had been anything less than traumatic but amidst the horrors, she had found the strength to carry on and she thanked her faith for that, in part.

“Hope.”

She smiled brightly as she finished the fritter and walked towards the wheelchair bound mutant. Kitty wasn’t as active amongst the student body as she had once been, there were other former students in those positions of power. However, the news of Hope Abbott and her injury at the hands of Harpoon had spread rapidly across the campus. It echoed Kitty’s own youth, a time when Harpoon had caused her to lose all control over her intangibility based powers and almost forced her to disperse into the aether. Unlike everyone else who had approached Hope, Kitty believed she held the home field advantage. Harpoon had very almost taken everything from her but she had survived.

“I’m glad you could make it. Doctor Reyes had said you mightn’t?”

She shrugged. “Wasn’t sure I was feeling up to it.”

“It’s good to get out and about,” replied the senior X-Man. “I hear you’re doing well with your rehabilitation, but that you seem half hearted–“

Hope furrowed her brows. “With all due respect, Miss Pryde. We’ve never spoken. How I deal with this has nothing to do with you.”

Kitty’s smile faded.

“With all due respect, Hope. This has everything to do with all of us. We’re here to protect you and we failed in that. We can’t atone for that. However, we can do our best to get you back on your feet. It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be very hard but it’s a long term process. I was attacked by Harpoon, he froze me in an intangible state with his weapon and I’m still here to tell my tale,” she stated. “You have every opportunity to recover from this if you just try. X-Men never give up.”

Hope paused for a moment.

“I’m not an X-Man though, am I?”

Kitty said. “The X-Men isn’t about being a superhero. It’s about having someone, a family, to call your own and loves you exactly for who you are. Flaws and all. The X-Men is like this school. It’s a safe haven. Countless traumatised, frightened youths have come through this place and it’s allowed them to live. Not every mutant becomes an X-Man. In fact, a lot just go on with their lives.” Her face softened, removing the frustrations she felt and leaving only compassion. “This may not be for you as a calling but as a family? You shouldn’t put your nose up at it. It’s all a lot of people have.”

“I’m only like this because I came here,” tears immediately filled her hazel eyes. “I had a life and I had a future. I had powers I could hide. Sometimes they just the better of me and I was overwhelmed but these fits only ever had to be fits. I could be at Juilliard right now. I’m a wonderful concert pianist.” Hope dried her eyes, the now familiar coldness reclaiming control. “I lost everything for this . . . family.”

“No, Hope. You gained something new,” Kitty replied. “We may not be Juilliard but have you made an attempt to reach out? We have a lot of cross-community and cross-institution classes in place. I don’t think we have Juilliard but some enquiries could be made.” Kitty backed away. “You can sit in silence and let this define you or you can fight back and make sure Harpoon doesn’t have the power to control your life.”

Kitty moved to socialise with some of the other students as Hope pushed the wheels of her wheelchair back into the hallway. She was ready to go back to the medical bay.

The Basketball Courts

“What do you want?”

Noriko lifted her eyes from the shimmering silver gauntlets that clasped around her hands to contain her ability of electrokinesis. The youthful lycanthrope bore an expression of bemusement that wasn’t unfamiliar to her. It had started as an overzealous fumble in the common room and escalated into an intimate session in his dormitory. It had been five months since Noriko and Nicholas had even a semblance of what could be considered a meaningful conversation. The Japanese mutant couldn’t even remember the last time they’d even exchanged pleasantries.

She turned her nose up. “Charming.”

“I don’t need this shit,” he growled. He turned away for her. “I need to pack. Some of us have homes to go to for Christmas.”

“Why are you so cruel?” Her question made him stop. “You used to be so nice. You told me I was pretty and you empathised with everything I’d been through.” She remembered the talks they’d had about the time they’d spent living on the streets, abandoned and unwanted. Both had come to the Institute and found a home but then Nicholas’ grandparents had found him and he’d changed.

Noriko’s time on the streets had been a darker experience in some ways. Her powers had been deadly and uncontrollable but intravenous drug use allowed her mellowed state to contain the affects. Nicholas’ parents had beaten him within an inch of his life and left him for dead – his lupine mutation had been obvious from birth – and he’d been shuffled around orphanages until he was fifteen. The battered students had made good but those lives hung heavily in the air, restraining them from ever truly accepting the bounties offered to them. An education wouldn’t save them from the horrors they’d endured.

It could be said that all students at the Institute had suffered, the world was dark and unforgiving but there were those who shone bright in their perseverance and those who crumbled under the weight of tragedy. Noriko was certainly the latter and she had believed he had been too but, for the first time since they’d connected, she saw him for his survival instinct – his ability to overcome hardship, whatever the cost.

He shrugged. “Honestly, you remind me of everything I want to forget. When I met you, you were still this fragile, broken thing. A doll that needed to be played with. Strange really, you had David. You’ve always been on a path to self-destruction and I was another pawn. We used each other as needed and now it’s done. I have a family again, I have a life to return to when this is all over. I’m not being cruel, Noriko. We’re just two strangers who shouldn’t care.”

“Except,” she stumbled as the words out of her mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

Without hesitation, he said. “Abort.”

Breakstone Lake

“Thought we’d find you here.”

Megan stood with her back to the Institute, allowing the frosty winds from over the lapping waves of the lake to wash over her. Unlike the others, wrapped up and warm, Megan embraced the cold of a reminder of Wales and the Christmas she would be missing this year. Megan couldn’t understand how she had come to this point at only sixteen but after her stay in Limbo and return to Aberygylid, she wasn’t the same girl she had been. Megan had attempted to remain upbeat but she found it easier to be alone. Kevin and Alani had been friends of hers since she’d started at the school last year but she couldn’t say she was overly glad to see them.

Alani extended her arm, and the sprite noticed the pink jacket she’d been carrying with her. Megan shrugged it away. It was odd to see the Hawai’ian mutant so covered, her beautifully distinct tattoos hidden beneath layers of clothes. “We thought you might want the company.”

“Nobody should spend Christmas alone,” reasoned Kevin, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Alani smiled. “And we weren’t feeling the whole Chapel-fest.”

“Glad you thought of me.”

The Hawaiian frowned. “Don’t be like that.”

“Meg–“

She held up a hand. “No. I’m sorry.”

“We can leave?”

It would be a lie to say that she didn’t briefly consider Alani’s offer but the nagging voice in her own head – very much her own on this occasion – warned her against alienating her friends. “No. Stay. ‘Tis is the season.”

Alani, used to considerably warmer climates even in the dead of winter, took the coat she’d offered to Megan and draped it over her shoulders as she moved in towards the puckish mutant. She’d never had much need for the holidays, her parents hadn’t been Christian or seen the need to indulge in the materialism of Christmas, but Alani had to admit that there was an enjoyable air of tranquillity over the sleepy school. Students had already gone home and more where yet to go. It would be so large and empty. It seemed like only yesterday she’d arrived alongside Megan and Victor, and now so much had already changed that she wasn’t sure they could ever go back to the jovial natures they’d had. Megan certainly wasn’t a Hello Kitty fan anymore and Victor was self-conscious and unsure of himself as of late. It was frustrating to see what had become of them.

Kevin hung back slightly.

He didn’t do so out of disinterest but fear. His mutant ability was to decay and destroy organic matter on a cellular level, nothing could survive his touch. Even a graze of his cheek was enough to kill. After what had happened with his father in Atlanta, Kevin had lived every moment on the outskirts of every scene. However, as Alani’s head draped onto Megan’s shoulder, the pixie reached out and hand – taking his gloved hands in her own – and drew him near. Her arm slipped into the nook of his arm, shielded by the heavy leather coat he wore, and pulled him to her side. Kevin’s head was awkwardly pointed away from them but the three students stood together looking over the cold, icy Breakstone Lake.

Finally, she said. “Merry Christmas.”

They chorused their replies.

The Old Church

“Mellie.”

The Kentuckian turned to the sound of her brother’s stern tone, slipping from the arms of her boyfriend and reluctantly allowing him to walk ahead. Her brows were furrowed as she approached him. He grabbed Paige as she attempted to stroll past. The Guthrie were a large clan, a family of mutants which wasn’t uncommon – the Summers and Grey families seemed to have a similar trait – but it was still rare. Nine children had been born to Thomas and Lucinda Guthrie and so far five of those children had shown active mutations – with Jebediah’s powers spurting to life last weekend and Elizabeth and Joelle seemingly skipping the “curse”. Lewis and Cissie were too young to known. By now, it wasn’t even an amazing sight. A Guthrie gained powers and was shipped off to the school to be trained with his or her siblings. It had been a system that had worked for so long but now the three of them felt the sting of reality. Joshua’s abduction would never have happened if he’d been allowed to follow his wishes and remain on the Farm.

“Ah know y’ girls are goin’ home tomorrow and ah want y’ to keep in touch,” spoke the eldest of the Guthrie clan. “Y’ know momma has been copin’ badly and this thing with Jeb sure as hell ain’t helpin’.”

Paige folded her arms. “I assume we’re bringing him with us.”

“If he wants,” Sam nodded.

Melody tutted. “Ye know he will. He’s the only one more mutant hungry than Paige. Then whose gonna look after momma? Liz isn’t even comin’ home from Berkeley. Apparently she’s too good for Kentucky now.” There was malice in Melody’s voice that he’d never noticed before. She’d always been close to Elizabeth. “That leaves Joelle and the kids. And we all know, Joelle’s a prat.”

“Mellie.”

“It’s true, Sam,” replied the omnimorph. “Lest we forget her anti-mutant campaign two summers ago. Momma can’t just be left there.”

Sam frowned. “Neither can Jeb. If he wants to come, he has to come. Cumberland is a small town an’ his power is destructive. One wrong foot and the Cabot boys will see him lynched an’ then what?”

“We could two dead brothers.”

“Paige!” her cold attitude was grating on the young teacher. “Ah won’t have y’ speakin’ like that. We’re gonna find Josh and we’re gonna bring him home.”

“What are you doing to search?” her point was heated but valid. “It looks to me that he’s just another forgotten cause on a long list for the X-Men. I spoke to Scott about it but apparently there’s too much going on, and Jean’s been scanning with Cerebro but can’t find him. Explain to me how exactly we’re gonna find him when no-one else can.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, attempting to be the strong one.

“Stop it,” Melody whispered. “Neither momma or Josh would want us to make a show of ourselves in front of the entire school. We to have hope and faith–”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. Momma didn’t raise us to be religious and daddy was an atheist. Doing this to impress some boy will get you nowhere, Mellie.”

She laughed. “Well, you would know. The only time you’ve ever got a man is when you changed your entire personality and forgot where you came from.”

“Girls,” Sam refereed. “This ain’t helpin’. Yer not even angry at each other, this is jus’ stress. We needa to stick together. We can’t solve everythin’ from here. Paige when yer home, assess the situation an’ let me know so we can act. Mellie, speak to Joelle. She’s not a prat. She doesn’t everythin’ that’s goin’ on but she loves momma jus’ like we all do an’ she’ll play her part in all of this. Ah promise.”

There was silence.

“Ah’m gonna miss y’.”

Sam had volunteered to stay as a chaperone for the students with no homes to go to. He’d spent Christmas away from home before but never when there was such an immense feeling of desperation clouding over the family. His heartfelt words seemed to stop them in their tracks. He could almost swear, if even for a moment, he could see a thawing in Paige’s eyes. Before they could respond he pulled them into his arms, squeezing tightly. He hadn’t expected a return, animosity was tearing them apart, but as their arms snaked across his back, Sam smiled.

Paige said. “We’ll miss you too, Sammy.”

The East Wing

“Noriko.”

Her hand quivered before she had managed to grab the door handle of her dormitory. Slowly, unsteadily, the blue-haired Asian youth turned to face the hyper-intelligent student she’d committed her life to for the previous year and a half. Since they’d both served as the reigning supreme students – the so-called Hellions – and romance had grown from a mutual sense of discontent with their social stations. Noriko had been a runaway, a vagrant living on the cold New York streets when the X-Men had found her. David had been the son of a governor in Chicago. They were worlds apart but somehow they had managed to make a connection through their differences. Still, Noriko had once again found herself running in the aftermath of a rogue sexual encounter with Nicholas. Her relationship had been preserved in stasis but it was clear that her ability to run was over, she had to face the problems she’d been escaping.

“Can we talk?”

She grimaced. “Do we have to?”

David’s hurt was clear on his face and the gut-wrenching guilt seemed to be cluster in her already occupied stomach.

“I thought you’d be at the chapel.”

He shrugged. “It’s over.”

“Oh.”

David, who had spent the better part of a month trying to catch her attention, wasn’t sure what he needed to say. He was reserved, his very ability meant that he was always thinking four steps ahead but somehow, as he looked at her shattered form in the hallway, his mind was groggy. David had pushed even those closest to him away in the pursuit of Noriko. She had been his entire world, the only thing he’d been able to love as much as academia. He’d always envisioned that he would mature and live the life that his father had before him. David had no desire to be an X-Man. He had no will to become a hero. Yet now that he’d experienced a life beyond his father’s politics, David wasn’t sure he could return to that dull monotony either. His eyes looked her up and down for a moment longer.

He found words. “What’s happened to us?”

Noriko exhaled. Fear had no place in this situation, she dropped her hand from the door and turned to face him. For the first time in months, he had her unwavering attention. She took the plunge.

“I’m pregnant.”

It felt like the entire building had collapsed around him.

“Nori, I–“

She interjected. “You don’t need to. I–“

“Let me speak,” the authority in his tone surprised and silenced her. “You’ve ignored me for months, so let me speak. I . . . this is a lot to process, that’s true but . . . this isn’t the end of the world. We can do this.” She noted that David sounded like he was attempting to convince herself, and she felt much worse. “I’m still here, surely that means something.”

“It’s not yours.”

His jaw dropped.

“I know you’ve a lot to say, and you deserve to say it,” she began her plea. “But please, let me go in. I can’t. Someday I’ll let you call me everything you need to but for now, I need to go.”

“Nori, you can’t just drop that bomb and leave me standing in the hallway,” he muttered, appalled. “I’m not just some collateral damage you can run away from.”

She began to cry. “I’m sorry.”

Noriko disappeared into the room before David could say another word. She pressed her back against it as she exhaled heavily. His face etched into her mind, horrified and betrayed. Fragile and scattered, Noriko didn’t allow her thoughts to linger on the wrongs of her past. Instead, she accepted the darkness that lay ahead – in her future. Noriko removed the gauntlets that covered her hands. At first it presented a challenge, they were clunky and firmly screwed, but she soon mastered it. They echoed as they hit the wooden floor with a distinct thud. Noriko stretched her fingers, unsure how long it had been since she’d properly removed her gauntlets. Seconds past and the electrical currents housed within her body danced at her fingertips. Beginning as something beautiful but arcing in the destructive manner of which Noriko was more accustomed.

Quickly, the Japanese mutant rushed into the bathroom and turned the tap as cold water gushed into the basin. Without a second thought, she shot her hands under the running water and let go of all the barriers she’d built. Electricity sparked, bursting from every orifice, as they lights of the Institute flickered and then died.

As lights flickered back to life, Noriko Ashida lay convulsing on the cold tile flooring.

The Student Kitchen

“Cess?”

The mercurial bodied mutant turned to face him, the light of the fridge illuminating every crevice and bump of her bored facial expression. Santo had never been incredibly close to her, even when Julian Keller had still be around to boss them about and ‘rule the school’. The Hellions – as they had been casually known – had faded into obscurity but still the memories of the good times they’d had lingered in the rocky giant’s mind. Santo was commonly misunderstood as having little to no depth. Many would have presumed that emotional responses such as nostalgia and longing where beyond his capabilities. In a way, they would have been correct. The Bostonian displayed only this side of his personality to the work. He’d once reserved any softness for conversations with Julian or even Brian but now, with one gone and the other friendship having fallen apart, he was re-evaluating what he’d stood for. His conversation with Laurie had made him see a different world.

She didn’t reply.

“How are you?” His response was somewhat awkward and fell heavy on the girl, her features visibly registered the oddity she felt.

“Oh.”

Cessily paused.

“I’m good, Santo. Um. You?”

It would be a lie to say her disinterest didn’t sting. “I’m okay. I was just thinkin’ about the old days, y’know. Everyone is kinda doin’ their own thing.”

Silence.

“It was only last year we were all hangin’ out and bein’ awesome.”

Cessily nodded. “I know. People change.” Her words were blunt. “Last year we were mainly new to this, we were afraid to stand on our own feet and Julian gave us a shadow to stand under and a crowd that we could belong in. That was all well and good at the time but the more I look back on it, the more I realise that him disappearing like that was good for us.” She seemed to realise the harhsness of her words. “Not because he disappeared with Josh but just because he’s gone. It allowed us to find out who we are, without him guiding us.”

Santo didn’t seemed convinced.

“We needed that.”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

The redhead let the fridge door swing shut as she waltzed past the youth she had once considered a friend. Lightly, Cessily’s hand grazed his rocky skin but she wasn’t sure he’d felt it. “I wouldn’t lose any sleep. The past should stay in the past.”

She exited the kitchen and Santo felt just as lonely and isolated as he had before.

Southeast Asia

“No!”

Joshua Guthrie, beaten and battered, roused himself suddenly from an already uneasy sleep amidst the cold, damp walls of his prison cell. The last inmate other than him, the last company he’d had to rely on, was dragged forcefully from a cell – kicking and screaming as two indistinguishable Marauders beat him senseless. Joshua should have been relieved that it wasn’t him or when the screaming finally came to a stop but he wasn’t. It left only him and it meant that time was running out. Mister Sinister had experimented on them all endlessly, tirelessly, and drained what little strength they’d managed to retain over the months of captivity. Joshua was the newest addition and the last to remain alive. No-one knew what happened on that final experiment, no-one had lived to tell the tale, but Joshua had less than one day to live before the end came. Sinfully but unashamed, he found a quiet peace in that thought. His torment would soon be at its end.

He’d spent so much of the last two months – that stretched behind him like an eternity – in the shadows with only the memories to guide his mind back from the frightening landscape of fear that lay around him. He remembered the hot Kentucky summers and the harshest of winters in the old wooden farm house. He remembered bickering with Sam and Jebediah over the stupidest of things. He remembered the women he had loved as clearly as he remembered the sun in the sky. Joshua pictured Julia on her old porch swing, and Laurie with her nose in her diary on the embankment of Breakstone Lake. The smell of a fry on a Sunday morning when Lucinda gathered them together as a family. Joshua had lived a life of poverty but it had been a full life surrounded by people he knew loved him. It was hardest to know that whatever happened him, the tragedy would fall over them like a fresh winter snow – blanketing everything in sight.

The angelic mutant had been taken to the God-forsaken Xavier Institute of Higher Learning in what seemed like mere moments after his dignified crimson wings had sprouted from his backbones. There, Joshua had been named Icarus after the Greek that “flew too close to the sun”, a reference more so relating to his rebellious attitude than to his ability of flight. Joshua, unlike his siblings, had hated being a mutant especially with such an obvious physicality. His dreams had been to sing, to perform to a world that would love him, and to move on from the rural upbringing he’d had.

Joshua would have given anything to smell the fresh winds blowing down from the mountains, the heartiness of coal and the scents of the earth.

The boy – Ji – screamed. It wasn’t bloodcurdling like some of the others. Instead, it was more akin to the gargle of a drowning man – or a man overcome buy his own blood. Shivers ran along the winged mutant’s spine. Machines whirred in the cold darkness and Joshua rolled over. He didn’t attempt to mask the sounds, he’d long ago learned that that was an impossible task, but he did try to sleep. He pushed his mind far from where now was. Joshua focused on all of his memories that shone with a golden, he took a moment to indulge in the happiness they’d once afforded him, and with a smile on his face . . . he cried.