Siren Song

Part One

“Back to School”

 

By Helen J. Lake

 

          I killed a man. Maybe two. I think.

          My thoughts have been coming clearer as I walked. The cold rain as it ran down my hair and into my face made me notice the weather for the first time in days. Stumbling as I made my way along the side of the ditch, I eyed the area I found myself. I was almost in a densely wooded area, following a stream (made by the intense rain) that flowed alongside a small road.

          Where am I going? I asked myself.

          The answer appeared to me easily: to a refuge.

Suddenly, I was remembering things as they’d been. Just like that, I was there again, seeing and feeling it all anew.

         

          “Miss Cirsei,” Steffi called, her hand in the air. “I don’t understand why we have to know any of this.”

          I smiled at her, seeing the way her clique of girls nodded in sudden agreement. Rubbing the chalk dust from my hands, I took a seat on my stool. I heard a few groans from the students who knew what was coming.

          “Steffi, did you know that at one time, you would not have been allowed to use the same water fountain as Gregory?”

          She looked at the dark-skinned boy two seats away from her and shrugged. It was her usual “don’t know-don’t care” attitude. Sighing internally, I began to explain the history of racial prejudice in our country. Steffi seemed bored, as usual, but a few kids perked up.

          “You’re probably wondering what any of that has to do with today’s current events,” I continued. “With the incidents surrounding the attack on the president, and the suspicions that mutants were involved, there has been a rehashing of prejudice. No longer do people look at the color of skin in order to make unfair judgments and declarations, but now mutants have become the catch-all for anything that goes wrong in the world.”

          Steffi groaned dramatically and her cohorts chortled.

          “You disagree, Steffi?” I asked, crossing my legs.

          “I’m so tired of hearing about the mutants. They’re just freaks with nothing better to do than cause trouble.”

          I nodded and leaned forward. “Sounds to me like the makings of a debate.”

          There were more groans as I split the high school class up into sides. Every so often, in order to get them to participate, I would throw impromptu debates together. I always made sure to evenly distribute the ones who already had their minds made up on both sides.

          “You have ten minutes to get some points together and…”

          Pain. Panic. “ANNIE!!!”

          “Brad?” I whispered. It was as if I’d heard him screaming down a tunnel. Tommy was looking at me with a confused look. Shaking my head, I smiled and turned to write on the chalkboard.

          “Run! Get out! No!”

          My knees went weak as I saw Brad in the alley behind our apartment. It was as if I was floating over his head, or in his head. Two men approached him and I saw/felt us fall. My arm ached with a sharp pain and I knew it was broken. The taller man began to kick us in the stomach.

          A very distant part of myself knew I had collapsed onto the linoleum of my classroom.

          “Please…don’t…” Brad begged for our life.

          There was a movement from the other man. He yanked our head back and I felt something cold against our temple.

          “NO!” I cried as the shot rang out. I felt Brad die instantaneously. The students were staring at me, screaming in terror as I reached out and…

          I looked down at Brad’s body, then turned my attention to the two men. The taller one was searching Brad’s pockets as the other one wiped the gun clean of his prints. My anger and pain grew until I had collected enough and then I lashed out.

          I stared down at their lifeless bodies.

          I was back in my own body, seeing the students in a panic. Not knowing what had just happened, I remained silent. Desks were scattered, books and papers whirling as the open windows allowed snow to blow through the room. Knowing that somehow I had caused all of this, I folded in on myself and closed off.

 

          Lightening flashed out of a clear sky and I looked up. There was a figure moving in the sky. Ducking, I flattened myself to the nearest tree. She—for I could tell it was a women and somehow familiar—moved on without seeing me. I wasn’t surprised. Fog rolled past me and I felt it caress my skin lightly.

          Wiping my arm across my face, I wondered when the rain had stopped. My mind was taking stock of my surroundings as I came back to myself. Wincing as the figure made another pass, I started running. Trees were a blur as I rushed towards the only sanctuary I could remember…

          “Charles,” I breathed, gasping.

          Stopping as my hand encountered a wall, I gazed up at the plaque I touched.

          “Xavier’s School for the Gifted,” I read, sighing in relief. I’d made it.

          The gate opened.

          “Come in, Annie.”

          I went inside, following the hints his mind sent to mine. The few people I did see, did not pay attention to me.

          “They cannot see you, Annie. Your mind shields have hidden you.”

          I didn’t understand what he said, but I knew he was the only who could help me.

          “I will help you, Annie…”

          A door opened and I went inside. Charles sat in his wheelchair, facing me with a patient expression on his face.

          “Come, Annie,” he greeted. “Lie down, and I will help you relax.”

          I dropped, soggy, onto the couch he pointed towards. My head was near him and I watched as he came close enough to place his hands on either side.

          “Be calm…sleep.”

 

          “I didn’t think I’d ever seen her again,” a voice was saying.

          “Yes,” Charles agreed wryly. “She made it quite clear she didn’t wish to return.”

          There was a pause and his companion sighed. “What happened to her?”

          “Trauma,” Charles said. “Unforeseen and tragic enough to cause her powers to try to reassert themselves once more.”

          I opened my eyes, staring at the wooden ceilings above me. I felt surprisingly calm as I blinked and listened to them.

          “But why was she unable to turn them off?”

          “For the same reason, Scott,” I said, sitting up slowly. My head ached dully, but I ignored it. I knew where I was, and who these men were—something I was grateful for. Lately, I’d lost track of everything.

          “Annie,” Scott said in surprise, whirling to face me. The red lenses of his standard sunglasses glinted in the morning light. “It’s…been so long.”

          “I know,” I agreed. “Not as long as we expected, though.”

          He stiffened, and his brow furrowed. Before he could remark, Charles rolled to a position between us. “Annie,” he said quietly. “Tell us what happened.”

          “I…I’m not completely sure.” I rubbed my temple. “It’s broken up into shards of partial memories and feelings.”

          He nodded. “Perhaps I can fill in the gaps.”

          I tried to focus on the recent past, but found that nothing held still long enough in my mind. Concentrating, I was distracted as the door flew open and a large man barged inside.

          “Alright, One-Eye, where is it?” he bellowed.

          I blinked and vanished.

          “Easy, Logan,” Charles said. “You’ve frightened our guest.”

          His dark eyes shifted and he sniffed the air. I gazed in amazement as he flexed his fists, causing metal blades to slide out from between his knuckles.

          “Where are they?” he growled. “I can smell ‘em, but I can’t see ‘em.”

          Charles rolled closer to this Logan. “Put those away,” he exclaimed firmly. The sudden outburst made the claws disappear. I stared as the small gashes healed over within seconds. “Annie is an old friend and she is injured.” He looked towards me. “It’s okay, Annie.”

          Relaxing, I sighed and felt myself appear again. Logan jumped back a good three feet, snarling fearsomely. But Charles held a hand up, making me unable to react—other than my heart leaping.

          “Holy hell!” Logan cried.

          Logan,” Charles said in an almost amused tone. “This is Annie.”

          We eyed each other uncertainly. I was positive I hadn’t met him before, but at the same time, I knew my mind could have hidden the memory.

          “Hi,” he said with a bit of annoyance. I took it that he didn’t like not being able to tell where someone was at all times. I felt the same about not having any control over being seen.

          “Hello,” I replied.

          “Now then,” Charles said. “What did you need, Logan?”

          His eyes snapped away from mine. “Actually, I had a beef with Ol’ One-Eye, here.”

          Scott, who had been silent until now, bristled. “What do you want?”

          “Where’s the bike?”

          Scott crossed his arms, smirking. “You mean, my bike?”

          Logan growled under his breath. “Fine; your bike. I wanted to use it and I can’t find it.”

          “Where are you going?” Charles asked.

          “We’re out of beer.”

          Logan,” Charles admonished. “You know that we are not supposed to have alcohol on the premises.”

          Logan sighed. “Then I could at least go somewhere that is allowed to have it. I just want a beer, Professor.” He glared at Scott. “And the bike.”

          Scott shook his head. “Nope.”

          As Scott and Logan began to argue—which seemed to be the usual for them, since Charles didn’t flinch—I took a look around the room. Charles remained silent, listening to the men, fingers steepled in thought. My clothes were dry and the sun shown through the windows. I rose and went to peer outside. With a faint smile, I saw the training area where Jean and I had honed our skills. I turned towards the three men.

          “Where’s Jean?” I asked quietly.

          The arguing stopped immediately. Scott looked at the floor while Logan shook his head and refused to look at anyone. Charles moved towards me, but I had already heard the truth from Scott’s reaction.

          “Oh…Scott, I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

          I saw his jaw clench. “Yeah,” he replied evenly.

          “Charles,” I said, feeling tired again. “Is there somewhere…?”

          “Yes, of course,” he replied. “I’ll show you to a room.”

          Ten minutes later I was stretched out on a bed, on my stomach. Charles remained behind, easing me into a dreamless sleep. As soon as he left, I was wide awake again. My body argued, crying out for sleep, but my mind refused to give in.

          She’s gone…I thought to myself. Jean, my best friend…the only family I’d known for so long.

          Jean Grey had been my cousin, and fellow mutant. I had known about her powers, and that she was at a special school for people like her, but I hadn’t truly understood. I was a “normal”, the pride of my parents. We’d gone on a skiing weekend trip when I was fifteen and when I’d come back—I’d changed.

          Most mutants found out what they were in puberty, during heightened emotions. Well, my own puberty was well underway, and nothing had happened.

          Then there was the accident.

          My mother had been killed when the drunk driver hit us. Daddy was in a coma. And I…I was quarantined. I couldn’t understand why; I was barely injured and wore only a small cast on my wrist, and had a minor concussion. Then a nurse let me look into a hand-held mirror.

          I looked like a cat. Well, sorta. There was a fine layer of gray fur covering my body, even my face. There was enough of it to give me a darker appearance, but not so much that you couldn’t see my normal features. My ears were slightly cupped, and pointed, and as I stared in shock, they swiveled back and flattened to the side of my head. In slow motion, I saw a thin tail snake it’s way up to my shoulder and I grasped it, feeling how it was attached to my lower back, right before my buttocks.

          The windows on the ICU shattered as I cried out my anguish.

          I was a mutant, and a late-bloomer to boot. The kind nurse took pity on me and promised to get a friend of hers to come see me.

          Charles showed up the next day. There was something calming about him and I’d found myself opening up to him. He, in return, showed me that I was not a late-bloomer. In fact, I had developed my powers at a very young age. He told me that I was a projecting telepath. He promised to help me in whatever ways he could.

          Daddy awoke long enough to meet Charles. After hours of talking, he signed the paperwork to make Charles Xavier my legal guardian. And then he died.

          I went to live at the Xavier’s school, where mutants were taught the usual classroom topics, plus how to control their powers. It was there that I found out that all this time, I had been putting out a psi-image of a normal girl; hiding my real self from the world. What others had seen did not exist—it was my own image from within.

          I didn’t have to worry about making friends, since Jean was there. We’d never been close, but finding myself lost and an orphan made me glad for her company. She was also a telepath, it seemed, though not as strong as I was. She was better at her telekinesis, but she was very shy about using either power. It was because she was unsure that I discovered that I too could move things with my mind.

          We were mirror images and we longed for what the other had. She looked perfectly normal and could easily get by in the rest of the world without worry. I, on the other hand, had to hide behind a mirage. I had strong control over my powers from day one, but she was hesitant and uncertain. Where she was shy, I flaunted my powers whenever I could. I never used them against anyone maliciously, nor cheated on a test, but boy did I play tricks on people.

          We also disagreed on how mutants were treated. She thought it wasn’t fair to be sequestered from the rest of the world, just because we were different. At the same time, she was very uncertain about ever leaving the safety of the school. I thought it was unfair that we couldn’t live among the “normals”, even if that meant hiding in plain sight. We used to stage debates between ourselves, taking either side and arguing until we reached an impasse.

          Most importantly, she was the only one I could receive messages telepathically from—other than the Professor. I could receive easily, and even eavesdrop on mental conversations people had with themselves. Hearing these thoughts made me want to help solve their problems. But it had to be projected outwards somehow, for me to pick up on it.

          When it was time to choose a profession, it seemed natural for me to become a teacher. But I couldn’t handle having students with so many different powers; it was too distracting to them, and me. I decided I wanted to go back out into the “real world”. Charles worked with me until we had perfected an image for me to project—one that would never waver, no matter what—then he put a psionic-lock on my powers. I couldn’t access them, change them, or anything…and to the rest of the world, I looked normal. I left the school, and Jean, and was happy.

          “You are not resting, Annie,” Charles said from the doorway.

          I wiped the tears that had run down my cheek to the quilt beneath me.

          “I see the old memories come to you easily,” he commented.

          “Yes,” I sighed, stretching before sitting up. “They are as real as they were as I lived them. But it gets fuzzy after that.” I picked at the small claws I had on my toes, instead of nails. “Was Jean happy with Scott?”

          He smiled, I knew, even though I didn’t look up. “Yes, she was. She loved him very much. And he still loves her.”

          I grunted. That was another thing Jean and I had had in common: our taste in men. I had even dated Scott for a short time, but soon found that he was too…disapproving of my tricks. I’d hoped they would get together, but I left before I saw them become a couple.

          “Are you ready to try reconstructing your memories?” Charles asked.

          I tensed. For the first time, I was afraid of my own powers and what I had been able to do with them.

          “Can’t you just…make me like I was? Redo the locks and let me go?” I asked, flinching at the weakness in my voice.

          “No, I cannot,” he admitted, moving to the side of the bed. “Annie, your memories and the psi-locks are intertwined at this point. The traumatic events that caused the reemergence of your powers triggered a kind of meltdown. I believe that if we can rebuild your memories, the psi-locks will become separate enough for me to remove them completely. And, if you wish, replace them.”

          I shivered. “I’m not sure if I want to know what happened.”

          “You already know what happened.”

          “Brad! No!”  The memory echoed between us and I flinched.

          “Please…” I whispered.

          “It’s alright, Annie,” Charles allowed, leaving the room. “When you are ready, we will find a way.”

 

          Two days later, I found myself wandering around the campus. It was even more pristine than I remembered. Of course, my memory couldn’t be fully trusted these days. I’d begun to find that things weren’t as clear to me as I had thought. More of my past was muddled and uncertain.

          A soccer ball came flying towards me and instinctively, I deflected it and winked out of sight.

          “Hey, sorry about…hey?” a young boy exclaimed. He was a teenager, around the same age of the classes I taught. Used to teach. I eyed him, seeing no malice in his confused face. As soon as I relaxed, I popped into existence where I’d been the entire time. He gaped at me. “Wha? Huh?”

          “Sorry,” I said, smiling foolishly. “I’m not very good at controlling that.”

          He shrugged and smiled, holding out a hand. “I’m Bobby.”

          “Annie,” I replied, smiling without showing my sharp teeth. I paused, then placed my hand into his.

          “Wow, that’s soft!” he said in surprise, blushing suddenly. “Sorry, I mean…uh…”

          I extricated my hand and looked at the field of grass where he’d been playing a moment before. His friends were waiting impatiently.

          “Come on, Iceman!” someone called. “Stop trying to delay your defeat!”

          He grinned at me and ran back onto the grass. I gazed after him in silence, poring over the moment. He hadn’t shied away from my strange appearance.

          “It’s nice to see children feeling more at ease with their mutant abilities,” a soft accented voice said to my left. I turned to look at the brown-skinned woman. Her silvery hair fluttered in the slight breeze as she smiled at me.

“You and I had it much rougher,” I agreed. “How have you been, Ororo?”

“Busy,” she admitted, eyeing me. “I heard you were back.”

We began to walk to sit on a nearby bench. I tried to figure out what to say to her. She’d intimidated me when we were teens. She’d been such an imposing figure, sounding so grown up and regal. But her kindness and sense of right had won me over in the end.

“You are not projecting,” she said, almost in surprise.

“I…can’t seem to control it.” I pulled my legs up under myself and sighed.

“The Professor says that you will be able to again, though, right?”

She was trying to be encouraging, I knew, but I was uncomfortable opening up to her. “So, you still call him Professor, huh?”

She half-smiled in response. “Not all of us can get away with calling him by his first name.”

“It was either Charles or Dad, and I already had a dad.”

          We were silent for a moment, watching the kids play. I was amazed at their fearlessness as they created their own game, using powers and not. I felt Ororo’s eyes on me and knew what she was thinking, without telepathy being needed.

          “Do you still climb trees?” she asked, grinning.

          I found myself baring my teeth in a grin of my own. “It’s been years,” I admitted.

          “Want to show these kids how it’s done?” she offered.

          That got a laugh out of me, the first sound of happiness I’d made in a long time. She stood, gesturing at the large tree nearest to us.

          “Hope I’m not too old for this,” I joked.

          “You are not old, you are my age!”

          “Like I said…” I replied; jumping at the sudden bolt of lightening that zapped the sky above. That caught the attention of the kids and they stopped to see what was going on.

          “Stay back, children,” Ororo called to them.

          I looked up at the branches above my head. I hadn’t climbed a tree since I left for the city all those years ago. My mind automatically picked out the best branches and with a bouncing start, I grabbed onto a branch. Moving quickly, I got about halfway up before looking down. The kids had gathered in a circle, and I saw some adults with them, including Scott and Logan.

          “What’s going on?” I heard Logan ask.

          “It’s an old game these two used to play,” Scott replied. “It’s kind of like tag.”

          “Only more complicated,” I yelled down to them.

          “Ready?” Ororo—now becoming Storm—called. Her eyes were glazing over already.

          “Hit me with your best shot!” I cried.

          She wasted no time. Within seconds, I felt the tingling in the air as a small cloud formed nearby. I swatted it with my hand, and swung to another branch. Another one was waiting as I dropped and somersaulted through it. The fur along my neck stood on end and I felt the charge just before it struck me in the back. I yowled.

          “Gotcha!” Storm exclaimed.

          “Give me a break,” I hollered, rubbing the spot on my back where I’d been hit. “I’m not used to this anymore!”

          “Don’t be a wimp!” she replied, laughing.

          “Wimp!” I yelled back in indignation.

          I took a running leap and managed to snag a higher branch. It was thinner than the ones I’d been on, perfect for what I was planning. As soon as I felt another mini-cloud forming, I whirled and kicked it out of existence, falling away from the trunk of the tree. I heard the gasps below, but ignored them. Instead, I caught the end of the branch and allowed it to sag, barely reducing my falling rate. I swung into the thicker branches and scrambled around, still holding the thin branch. A series of clouds followed me, and I released the branch. It smashed through the remaining clouds.

          “That’s ten!” I exclaimed.

          “Game!” Ororo agreed. Her eyes returned to normal and she grinned up at me. “And you tried to say you were out of shape!”

          “That’s out of shape?!” I heard Logan mutter.

          I blushed, grateful for the fur that hid it. Moving almost lazily, I climbed down the trunk of the tree until I could drop directly in front of the man. He didn’t budge or react, except for a flash in his eyes.

          “Careful what you say in front of children,” I chastised softly, knowing he could hear as well as I could. He grunted.

          “How did you learn to do that?” a young girl asked. She bounced from one foot to the other in her excitement, gesturing with glove-clad hands. A streak of white hair in the front of her brown coif caught my eye.

          “Gymnastics, partly,” I said. “The rest was just a game out of boredom.”

          “It was originally a training scenario for the Danger Room,” Charles said, coming closer. “But Ororo and Annie modified it for their own enjoyment.”

          “I’ll beat you next time,” Ororo promised, smiling.

          “You always said that!” I smirked at her.

          With a final glance over her shoulder, Ororo laughed and walked away. I rubbed my hands together, wincing at the splinters left behind.

          Logan, I need you to come with me,” Charles was saying.

          I looked up to watch as the brusque man nodded to my old friend. There was something unspoken there; something that piqued my curiosity. They left, with Logan deferentially walking slightly behind Charles’ wheelchair. The kids had wandered off, to their own activities again.

          “Ya know,” Scott said suddenly, drawing my attention. “I don’t think I remember you beating Storm so easily before.”

          I looked at him. He leaned against the tree casually, arms crossed. I picked at a splinter with the tip of my claws.

          “Well,” I admitted slowly. “She was going easy on me.”

          “How can you tell?”

          Something in his tone made me pause and consider that. “Trust me. I’m out of practice for combat, though I have tried to stay in shape. I teach beginner’s gymnastics…or, I did teach it…”

          “Hold me up, Miss Annie!”

          “I will, Talia…”

          “Hello? Earth to Annie?” Scott was in front of me, waving a hand close to my face.

          “Oh!” I exclaimed, stepping back. “I…I’m sorry. I got lost in memories…”

          His jaw-line moved tensely. “I seem to be doing that a lot lately, too.”

          I forgot about the splinters in my palms, wiping at the sudden tears that appeared on my cheeks.

          “I miss her too, Scott.”

          For a brief moment, we shared a bond. Then it was lost to the old bitterness between us. He’d never forgiven me for leaving. There was so much I wanted to say to him in that instant, but it was too late. He half-shrugged and walked away; leaving me alone.

          “Excuse me,” a new voice said softly.

          I turned to see a puff of blue-black smoke fading. In it stood a young man, taller than me, with blue skin and a pointed tail. His brilliant skin was covered in delicate lines that were somehow familiar to me. The overall effect was otherworldly…

          “Beautiful,” I murmured.

          His eyes were downcast, but they flew up to my face when I spoke. He smiled shyly, white teeth flashing.

          “I’m Annie,” I said.

          “Kurt,” he replied. “Or Nightcrawler, if you prefer.”

          I smiled at him. His shyness reminded me of some of my less-outspoken students. I thought I identified his accent as German.

          “Kurt,” I agreed. “Your angelic markings are phenomenal.”

          He bowed dramatically. “Danke,” he said. “Not many know what they are.”

          “In this world, it’s nice to know who is safe to trust. One covered in such heavenly affects must be honest and true.”

          I knew then that I had won his affection. “I was going to ask you…”

          “Yes?”

          He looked down, away. “They said that when you arrived here, you were hidden from view. Somehow, you can hide yourself, and your appearance…”

          I nodded. “That’s right. I’m a projecting telepath. I can project an image of myself, or the nonexistence image to appear invisible.”

          He wilted slightly. “Then it is not something you could share?”

          His pain was so apparent on his face, and I knew it was reflected in my own. Here was another creature that could not pass as “normal” in the outside world. One who wanted to, but unlike me, he didn’t have a way to.

          “I’m sorry, Kurt,” I said finally. “I really am. I can’t control it at all right now, but even when I can, I could only project an image for you when I’m within visual range.”

          His tail had lost it’s earlier movement, and lay lifeless on the ground. He started to turn away.

          “Kurt?”

          He stopped and looked back, waiting. Taking a chance, I reached out to touch the textured skin on his bare arm.

          “It would be a shame to hide such artwork from the world,” I said, seeing him glance up at me. “Why do these things, only to hide them?”

          “Why do we have to hide anything?” he asked rhetorically. “Why do you have to hide your tail, your fur, your ears?”

          I grinned, not caring if my teeth appeared scary. “I always thought it was to keep the rest of the world from being jealous.”

          He chuckled. “In your case, I would agree. In mine…” He shook his head.

          This time when he walked away, I didn’t try to stop him. I had no answers for him. I had no answers for myself.

 

          For lack of real motivation to try sleeping, I was exploring the buildings where I’d spent so much time before. I encountered a young preteen in front of a television, staring in fascination as he changed the channels with his blinks.

          “Nothing good is on at night!” he complained.

          “Why don’t you watch a movie?” I suggested.

          He grunted and suddenly a movie was showing. He settled into the cushions on the couch and seemed content. I was not.

          I walked silently down each hall, hearing the children moving about and talking. The younger ones were already in bed, but most of the teenagers were still up, listening to music quietly. My bare feet made no noise on the hardwood floors as I passed closed door.

          “Coming through!” a girl’s voice called. Unsure where she was coming from, I pressed myself against the wall and waited. Within seconds, a girl bounded out of her room, going through the door. She paused, seeing me. “Sorry!”

          “No problem,” I mumbled as she went past.

          “Don’t mind Shadowcat,” the girl from that afternoon said. She brushed some of the white hair behind her ear. “She does that every night.”

          I smiled at her. “We didn’t get a proper introduction today. I’m Annie.”

          “Rogue,” she replied. With an afterthought, she shrugged. “Marie.”

          “Ah,” I said. “When I was your age, my codename was Siren.”

          “How come?” She tugged at the gloves she still wore, though these were a different pair.

          “You know the myth of the sirens?” I asked.

          She nodded. “They were able to draw sailors to their deaths with their song.”

          “Right,” I agreed. “I thought I was being clever. A Siren was an ugly creature, who looked and sounded like a beautiful woman until it was too late…and with my projections, I could do the same thing.”

          She gave me one of those piercing looks that only a teenage girl can. “But you’re not an ugly creature.”

          “Tell that to the poor boys who wanted to date me,” I said with a wicked grin.

          “Do you really think you’re ugly?” she asked, ignoring my witty comment.

          “I…I’m not horrendous,” I said, embarrassed at the stammer in my voice.

          She grinned mysteriously. “Kurt thinks you’re adorable.”

          Before I could comment, she bounced away and into a room. The door swung shut and I was alone once more. Lost in thought, I continued on my prowl.

 

          Charles seemed to understand my need for a refuge. He left me alone, mostly, except once a day when he would approach me and ask if I was ready. I would say no, he’d give me one of those intense looks, then leave. I found that I was working out more and building up an endurance I’d lost over the years…I also found that the physical exhaustion made me sleep sounder, and I would not dream then.

          When a dream did occur, I would wake up crying and drenched in sweat. Instead of bothering Charles, I would patrol the school. Occasionally, I would encounter other people—mostly nocturnals, night-owls or someone out for a late-night snack.

          One pristine night, marred only by nightmares, I found myself outside, heading for the gym. It was the only building I hadn’t been in yet, and I just couldn’t bring myself to go back to bed. The prospect of dreams scared me and I shuddered. Entering the facility, I glanced around. It was so familiar; I half-expected Jean to come around a corner and ask me to join her in the pool.

          I went through the doors to the main room. In the center of the moonlit general room, I spotted the mats. I wasn’t dressed for it, but I was overcome with the desire to do some tumbling. Shrugging, I went to the main mat and stepped onto it. The springboards beneath gave just right when I bounced.

          “Why not?” I mumbled.

          With a deep breath, I ran several feet and launched myself into a series of flips. The movements came back to me so easily; I slipped into an old routine. It was another one of Jean’s favorite things to do. We used to spar on the mats, using flips and tumbling moves in combination to the hand to hand combat we were learning.

          Within minutes, I was sweating and grunting with every move. I panted, not used to such exertions, and pushed myself harder. Even the feeling of my tail as I moved through the air was exhilarating. Then I landed wrong, slid in my own sweat, and went down hard on my side. I slapped the mat and rolled to lessen the impact, but the wind was knocked out of me.

          “Y’okay?” Logan asked, his face appearing over mine.

          “AGH!” I cried as I was able to inhale again. I disappeared.

          Logan blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Cut that out, lady.”

          “Stop sneaking up on me!” I countered, unsure if I could be heard.

          He grunted. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

          I sighed and felt myself pop back into view. Still out of breath, I lay on my back, staring up at him. He offered his hand and I allowed him to pull me up. Then I noticed that he was wearing only some sweatpants and was covered in the sheen of his own sweat.

          “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “So I thought I’d run a few rounds with the punching bag.”

          I tore my eyes from his impressive physique. “I had similar thoughts.”

          He eyed me. “You aren’t dressed properly. That’s why you slipped up.”

          Putting my hands on my hips, I glared up at him. But there was no attitude in his face. He was trying to make conversation, I realized.

          “So, how do you do that?” he asked. “That blink out thing?”

          I sighed. “I feel as if I’ve been explaining myself all day.” He was silent and just stared at me. Rolling my eyes, I continued, “I’m a projecting telepath. I can make you see me however I want, or not see me at all.”

          His face clouded over. “So you can look like anyone. I know someone who can do that.”

          I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Whoever this other person was, he wasn’t fond of them.

          “I’m also slightly telekinetic,” I added. “Like Jean, only not as good.”

          My words hit me hard enough that I almost missed the look on his face. It was a lot like the one on Scott’s when I’d mentioned her before.

          “Did you know her?” I asked, wanting to know what he’d been to my cousin.

          “Yeah,” he said softly. “She was something.”

          I had to agree. “Jean was my cousin, ya know,” I said. “But she was stronger than I was. Just ask Scott.”

          His eyes flashed and he gave me a penetrating look. I had seen the tension between them before, easily recognizing it.

          “He’s bitter because I left,” I said. Part of me wondered why I was telling Logan this, of all people. “Jean and I were very close, like sisters. But I wasn’t satisfied being here. I wanted to go out and teach in the real world. And to tell you the truth, the kids here scared the hell out of me.”

          He nodded. “Yeah, some of them are rather…odd.”

          “I don’t know if it was some innate need to go out into the world,” I continued. “Maybe I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. I’m so stubborn; once I made up my mind, there was nothing Jean or Scott could say to make me change it. No matter what…”

          I went silent, finally. It felt strange to talk about these things, especially with a stranger, but at the same time, it was like I was reviewing my life and seeing if it had been worth it.

          “So were you around when One-Eye and Jean started dating?” he asked carefully.

          Aha, you gave yourself away, Logan. You had a thing for her.

          Out loud, I laughed. “You could say that I brought them together. At first, it was just to get Scott to leave me alone…besides, Jean had such a crush on him. And he was more her type than mine.”

          He scoffed in disgust. “What is it with women liking such goody-goodies?”

          “For Jean, it was the safety,” I said. “He was a mutant too, so he understood that. And he’s about as loyal as you can get. No worries about him straying, ya know?”

          I stretched, feeling Logan’s eyes on me. He found me attractive, I knew, and I felt the same way. I made sure to include every muscle I could to prolong the little show.

          “You stretch just like a cat,” he said suddenly.

          I burst out laughing in surprise and felt my tail swaying behind me. “It can’t be helped, I suppose.”

          “Do you purr too?” he asked coyly, grinning sloppily.

          I blushed and stepped closer to him. “Got any catnip?”

          We were interrupted by the lights coming on. We both blinked in the brightness and I fought the need to disappear. Logan’s claws remained sheathed.

          “Exercising in the dark is never a good idea,” Scott said.

          I stepped onto the regular floor and held one hand up over my eyes to see him. “What is with everyone sneaking around here?” I demanded.

          “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Logan growled at the intruder.

          Scott didn’t seem impressed. He sighed and I tried to ignore the way the tank-top stretched across his chest.

          “I came to talk to you, Annie, but you weren’t in your room. Somehow, I knew you’d be here.”

          “Here I am,” I replied, wondering how long he’d been there in the shadows. I watched how he looked over at Logan first, then at me. “What did you want to talk about?”

          He shook his head. “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Good night.”

          And he was gone. The lights were still on and I turned to look at Logan. He stared after Scott.

          “What the hell was that about?” he asked.

          I shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”

 

          It didn’t take long for Scott to show up. I was in my room, dressing after a luxurious hot shower, when the knock came.

          “Just a second!” I called, struggling to get my tail to cooperate with my jeans. I sighed and pulled them off again, grabbing some soft cotton leggings out instead. “If anyone asks, I’m going to work out,” I mumbled.

Covered and decent, I went to the door and opened it. Scott stood outside, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up at me for a beat.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Suddenly uncomfortable with the thought of him in my room, I nodded. “Shall we take a stroll?”

I slipped past him, shutting the door. He shrugged and we began to walk down the stairs.

“I was thinking of talking over some brunch,” he suggested.

My stomach cramped at the thought. “I’m not hungry.”

He stared at me until I frowned back at him. “That’s part of the problem,” he said finally.

“Hmm?” I asked, nodding to Rogue and Bobby as they walked past.

“Annie,” Scott said urgently. I looked at him. “You haven’t been eating, and you’re pushing yourself too hard in the gym.”

My jaw clenched and I felt the fur along my shoulders raise. “So, what? You think I have some kind of eating disorder?” I rushed on before he could answer. “I eat! I had some crackers for breakfast and a cup of tea!”

“What did you eat yesterday?” he demanded.

I hesitated, thinking. “Some soup…a cookie…lemonade…”

He nodded. “Annie, we’re worried about you.” He looked unsettled. “The Professor is afraid you’re trying to hurt yourself. You might not even know you’re doing it!”

His fear was real. The intense emotions on his face and in his voice made even more fur stand on end—this time for different reasons. Despite being out in the warm sun, I was chilled.

“You’ve been here for two weeks,” he continued. “And you’ve lost weight. Okay, grief does that to a person, I know, but you aren’t dealing with the grief.”

I crossed my arms tightly, feeling the ribs beneath my hands as if for the first time.

“I know that you can’t really deal with the grief,” Scott was saying. “But the sooner you and the Professor can get those memories back, the sooner you can deal with it. Does that make sense?”

I nodded meekly. “It does…it really does.” I turned away, fighting the tears that threatened to overflow. “I…can’t. It hurts too much. I hardly remember Brad anymore—the little bit I did remember is fading. I can just pretend it never happened, we never met and fell in love…”

“Do you love Jean any less because she’s gone?” The pain in his voice made me wince and sob. “Do you think I do?”

“No!” I exclaimed hoarsely, dropping onto a nearby bench. “God, no…Scott. I’m sorry…”

He held me as I wept out in the open. I didn’t care who saw or what anyone thought as I cried. His arm was comforting around my shoulders and I felt even worse.

“Scott,” I said after a long while. “Do you know why I left the school?”

He tensed beside me. “You were ashamed to be a mutant.”

I straightened and stared at him. “Is that what you…all this time, you thought I was ashamed…” I stopped, knowing that he was right, somewhat. “Okay, I had issues with being different than the rest of the world. My gawky teenage years were spent trying to understand my powers, and control them. But that’s not why I left.”

“Okay then, why did you leave?”

I sighed. “Jean…we had become too codependent, Scott. Where my telekinesis wavered, hers was strong. Where my telepathy withstood intense scrutiny, hers was haphazard and sloppy. Instead of working with each other and building each other up, we just let the other cover for us.” I gestured with my hands. “When you and I dated, I realized that I wasn’t supporting her enough. You pushed me to reach for my potential, Scott. She needed someone who would do that, and love her.”

I waited, watching the emotions that played across his face. A few tears streamed out from behind the red-lenses. In a sudden movement, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“When you pushed me away,” he began slowly, his voice deep. “I thought it was because you saw me as flawed. I wondered how you could love Jean like it seemed you did, when you had such disregard for mutants. Then you left us behind, as if we were something you wanted to forget.” He tilted his head to look at me. “The worst was that you refused to be yourself around us. You were always projecting that damn perfectly normal image. It hurt Jean to think you were embarrassed by your own uniqueness.”

It was my turn to stare in amazement and shock. “I was embarrassed, that’s true. But not because I hated being a mutant…though there were times I did. I…” For a moment, my thoughts were going faster than I could speak. I remembered what I’d said to Rogue. “Do you know why I chose the name Siren?”

He smirked. “I thought it was to be cute. Another mythological name to match mine…”

I laughed. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, Scott!” I declared. I sighed and sobered. “Sirens were hideous. Nasty, vulgar things that drew men to their deaths by projecting a lie…Jean could at least admit that she was scared of her powers. I had to hide behind mine.”

“You have been many things, Annie,” he said after along silence. “But you were never hideous or nasty.” He paused and gave me a cocky grin. “Vulgar, maybe, though.”

“Watch it, buddy,” I replied, punching him in the arm.

“Seriously, Annie,” he said, rubbing his bicep. “Your natural form isn’t bad.” I raised my eyebrows at him and he blushed. “As long as you don’t start catching mice or anything.”

I pretended to mull it over. “Deal.”

“Now, about that meal…”

 

On to Part Two…