Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ah, school. The bane of every teenager's existence. Especially when you're now a junior in high school when you were only a sophomore before. Classes are just getting started.

And I hated it.

Especially at Mission Creek High.

I tried my best to appear happy as I walked into the lobby of the high school. Unfortunately, I was never as good of an actress as my mom. She went to acting school and I just got by in theater class. It didn't surprise me that Chase Davenport rushed up to me all happy and then his face fell once he saw the look in my eyes.

"Didn't sleep well?" he asked me.

I laughed halfheartedly. "You have no idea."

I don't know what to call what Chase and I have now. It's not really a situationship and it's definitely not a relationship. But after Marcus died he'd always been there for me. And it wasn't like it was because he was thinking "ohhh now that Marcus is dead I have a foot in the door with Abby". He just knew I needed someone and so . . . he was there.

We had gotten closer over the past year and it felt like I could talk to him easier and I was definitely more comfortable around him than originally. But I don't think I liked him. Not yet anyways. He still liked me but we didn't talk about it much, so things wouldn't be awkward.

And it was already awkward enough because I hadn't told any of them that Strickland wasn't my last name.

"Well, luckily today isn't a test day," Chase remarked.

"That's true," I admitted.

Chase snapped his fingers as if he was remembering something. "By the way, Mr. Davenport says he wants you over at our house after school."

I looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Said he wants to get a better look at what's going on with your powers. After all, in all of our years being the way we are, he's never seen anything like you."

Surprisingly, I wasn't angry or upset at this like I would have been a year ago. A year ago, I would have shouted right then and there, protesting that I wasn't a science experiment or something to dissect. I would have insisted that there was nothing wrong with me, maybe even lied about having bionics just so I could avoid it.

But since finding out about my dad, I was okay with discovering what was really going on with me. After all, my dad supposedly had a similar thing that no one else could explain. It might make finding him easier.

"Alright," I agreed. "What are we looking like test-wise?"

"Not sure," he admitted. "Mr. Davenport said he would have more of an idea once you got to the lab."

Great. More uncertainty. Exactly what I needed.

Leo was bounding toward us, seemingly out of breath. He was fixing his shirt, which was slightly twisted from his running. Sweat was glistening on his forehead.

"Woah, Leo," Chase interjected. "What's going on?"

"Trent's coming!" Leo cried. "You've got to hide me!"

"What?"

"DOOLEY!"

I jerked my head up to see the school's star football player strut his way into the lobby. He was wearing his football jersey---as always---and his black hair was plastered to his forehead, glistening with sweat. I wanted to hurl. He had obviously just been chasing Leo.

I hated Trent. Still do.

Leo worked his way behind me and Chase, using our bodies as human shields. I never understood why Trent found it so amusing to chase after Leo and make his day miserable. I guessed it was because Leo was the skinny, smart kid. Those guys always seem to be the targets for bullying anywhere and it's super stupid.

And of course the school system does nothing about it when told it's an issue.

"Trent, what's got your panties in a twist today?" I spat at him, glaring.

Trent laughed heartily. Mockingly. I wanted to punch his lights out.

"Someone trying to play hero today?" he taunted.

"Why? You trying to play the villain?"

The expressions that washed over Trent's face were so funny I almost burst out laughing, but I managed to keep my composure. Laughing would take away the seriousness.

Trent regained his composure quickly, rolling his shoulders. We had gathered a crowd, people watching from all across the lobby. No one dared to stand up to Trent. Ever. People did occasionally. I just wasn't in the mood to deal with his crap. Especially not on Monday.

He sauntered up to me, and I could smell his sweat from five feet away. It took all I had not to gag. The man had no sense of hygiene. Yes, he was a man. He had been in high school for five years at that point. No one knew if he would graduate or not.

At this point it's grasping at straws to hope that he does.

"You trying to get under my skin, Blondie?" Trent sneered, his eyes boring in mine. "'Cause I won't let you."

I sighed, pushing my glasses further up my nose. "It seems I already have." I brushed past him. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get to class."

Leo was tailing right behind me, and Chase was trying to slip off as well but Trent was quicker. A football whizzed by our heads and slammed into the nearest locker, leaving a small dent. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The ball had come inches from hitting Leo's head.

I turned slowly around, anger starting to cloud every other emotion. Nobody threw anything at my friends on my watch. Especially Leo. Yes, he and I had a bit of a problem last year, but we made up. He's still one of my best friends, even if we fight sometimes. And if someone came close to hurting him?

Oh, it's claws out, buddy.

Trent's taunting sneer vanished when he saw the look in my eyes. He wasn't exactly terrified, but he was scared. I liked seeing him scared. It was satisfying.

It made me hungry . . .

. . . for a fight.

The feeling of a hand on my shoulder jolted me out of my thoughts. Chase was tugging at me gently, trying to guide me away, his eyes worried.

"Abby," he cautioned, "walk away. You can't shift here. No one's hurt. Please don't make people hurt just because you're angry." He leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Trent's an idiot, let him be an idiot without starting a fight."

I gripped the strap of my backpack, trying to keep myself from punching someone. I knew Chase was right, but I just wanted to hit someone. And that somebody was definitely Trent.

I sighed. "Alright," I resigned. "You're right, let's go."

All three of us started to walk off just as the bell rang, startling both Chase and I and making our ears hurt. I hated having sensitive hearing sometimes.

But despite the overwhelming noise and pain in my ears, I could still hear Trent laugh at us and taunt us. I could hear it and it sounded so familiar.

I could see him and his spiky brown hair, flaunting his creation, his power over us . . . I could see him stare at me with that fear in his eyes . . . A blasting shot . . . fire in my side . . . rocks falling---

I shook myself. This was shaping up to be the worst Monday ever.

Chapter Text

I was in the Davenports' lab, which was fine. I'd been in there before, after all. It was why I was in there that made me nervous.

Mr. Davenport was rummaging in his stuff across the room at one of the many desks and I was sitting on one of the swivel stools next to the holo-desk where they went over their missions. Chase was sitting in the one to my right, his arm propped on it as he leaned back. He was drumming his fingertips on the surface impatiently.

Adam, Bree and Leo were standing off to the side, waiting expectantly. They had all come down for a show. I know they did. It was just supposed to be me, Chase and Mr. Davenport down there, but when they heard that I was going to get tested for stuff they came barreling in after us, almost tripping over each other twice.

Bree was chewing her thumb nail and Leo was swaying back and forth a bit. Adam was . . . I don't know what Adam was doing. He had his head bopping like he was listening to music, but at the same time his eyes were darting around and he was beat boxing too. I don't think I'll ever understand what's going on in his head.

Mr. Davenport came trudging over to me, holding up some sort of scanning device.

"When I say 'go', I want you to transform," he explained. "I'll scan you with this while you transform to try to figure out where the source is coming from."

I nodded. "How does it work?"

"It tracks the electrical currents outputted from the bionic chip," Chase explained, tapping the back of his neck.

"I don't have bionics."

"You think you don't," Mr. Davenport continued. "But there is a possibility you do. A different type of chip that doesn't require a capsule like Adam, Bree and Chase's. I'm not sure how that would work, but we need to rule out every single possibility."

I pursed my lips, biting back my response. I knew for a fact I didn't have bionics. I knew because my dad was just like me, according to my mom. He could do things too. Things like me. If I inherited it from my dad, there was no possible way I could have a bionic chip.

But I didn't want to tell them that. It felt too personal.

Instead, I waited for Mr. Davenport to give me the okay and I shifted into my tiger form. My heart was pounding at my nerves. While it was true I didn't have a chip, I wasn't sure what else the scanner would find when I shifted.

Mr. Davenport's brow scrunched. "Odd."

"What's odd?" Bree asked, her voice rising in volume. She was nervous too.

Chase jumped up and walked over to his dad, peering at the screen. He drew his eyebrows together and looked up at everyone.

"There wasn't a single reading."

Adam, Bree and Leo all looked at each other in confusion and Chase and I held each other's gazes. No bionics. Of course I knew that. But something about them finding out carried more weight than I thought it would. I got more scared.

Mr. Davenport sighed and put the scanner back where he found it. He turned back around to face me and placed his hands on his hips.

"Are you okay with a blood test?" he asked.

I recoiled slightly. A blood test? I hate needles! The thought of something sticking into me always messed with me. And that was one of the reasons I didn't want to tell them in the first place. I had half a mind to run out of there right then.

Chase smiled slightly. "Not a big fan of needles?"

I shook my head, looking at my fur-covered hands and picking at my claws, embarrassed. I didn't want to look like a baby to them.

Chase returned to his spot beside me and took my hand reassuringly. "I'll be right here, okay? Squeeze my hand as hard as you want to."

I smiled slightly. "Let me shift back first. I don't want to break your hand."

I returned to my normal form and gripped his hand tightly as Mr. Davenport approached with the needle. Bree rushed up to me and put her hand on my shoulder as well. Having them there made me feel so much better, even if it was just a small gesture they were giving me.

I inhaled sharpy and so did Chase, as I was squeezing his hand harder. Bree started rubbing my back and I felt a sharp pain in my left arm.

Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it . . .

"Done."

I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Davenport holding up a full syringe of my own blood as he dabbed the spot where he stuck me with a cotton ball. A small dot of red came away with the material when he pulled it off and threw it in the trash.

"It will take a while for the results to come back," Chase explained. "But, at least we have something to go off of right now."

I nodded, letting go of Chase's hand and rubbing my forearm where I was stuck. "When will they be available?"

"About a week or two, depending on how the DNA responds to the individual tests Mr. Davenport puts it through."

"Alright sounds good."

"Can we arm wrestle?"

Everyone turned to look at the source of the question: Adam. He had his arms crossed and was grinning.

"What?" Leo asked. "Why do you want to arm wrestle Abby?"

"I want to see who's really stronger out of the two of us," Adam explained. "I've seen you use super strength, so I'm curious. How good is it?"

I looked around at everyone, unsure of what to do. I knew Adam would beat me, my super strength wasn't nearly as strong as his. Surely he knew that . . . right?

Nevertheless, I shrugged and walked over to the other side of the table. Adam followed and stood across from me, bending down and propping his elbow on the surface. Now or never, I guess.

I copied him and grabbed his hand. Everyone else gathered around to watch, Mr. Davenport taking out his notepad to write his observations. I blushed slightly when Chase stood right behind me, peering over my shoulder. He really didn't have to stand that close.

Leo stood between us, his hand up. "One . . . two . . . three!"

Adam and I both flexed our muscles at the same time, straining against each other. I could feel his super strength instantly and fought against it, my forehead immediately breaking out into a sweat. He didn't look too bothered by it. He actually looked kinda surprised. I started gaining ground, his arm beginning to move down toward the table. Confidence started to swell within me and I started to push harder.

And that was when he started trying.

My arm slammed against the table, fire shooting up it as the pain kicked in. I sucked in through my teeth, yanking my arm away from him and massaging my forearm. It ached so badly.

"Well, Adam won," Chase observed. "I'm not really shocked, though, to be honest."

"Yeah, me neither," I admitted. I knew he would win all along.

"Really?" Adam asked, glancing back and forth between us. "Because I was shocked."

We all gaped at him. He was surprised he won? How on earth did that make sense? Adam beat everyone in an arm wrestle.

"What the heck are you talking about, Adam?" Bree wondered aloud.

Adam shrugged. "Well, I'm not surprised I won, but I am surprised at how much I had to try."

"What?" I asked.

"You actually made me try a lot harder than usual. I mean, I wasn't straining or anything, but I was definitely getting a workout."

Everyone was staring at me. Mr. Davenport was calmly writing away on his notepad, pen scratching on the paper steadily. I was just standing there in shock.

I had actually made the strongest man in the world try to beat someone in an arm wrestle. I didn't know whether to be proud . . .

. . . or absolutely scared of myself.

Chapter Text

I kept rubbing my forearm, which was still sore from arm wrestling Adam. To be fair, anyone's arm would be sore from arm wrestling him. It would actually most likely be broken. The fact that mine was only sore was an accomplishment.

I entered my house, shutting the door behind me. Mom looked up at me from the sink where she was washing dishes.

"Welcome home, kiddo," she greeted. "How was school?"

It still felt really weird to hear my mom talk to me normally. I was so used to having her yell at me. But, to be honest, I liked the change. Who wouldn't? Landon was more willing to come out of his room, Mom was happier and more lenient, everything was supposedly normal.

But we still didn't know where Dad was.

"School was meh," I replied. I slung my backpack off of my shoulder and winced as it came in contact with my right arm.

Mom stopped washing dishes for a moment when she saw my pain and narrowed her eyes. She wiped her hands on a towel and then placed them on her hips. "Why are you hurt?"

I sighed. "Arm wrestled with Adam," I explained.

"You were at the Davenports' after school?"

"Yes Ma'am."

She moved to the table and sat down, gesturing for me to do the same. I complied, pulling a chair out from the table and taking a seat. I sighed and propped my arms up on the table, telling her what happened in the lab. Her eyes grew wide as I told her about the arm wrestle and what I was doing. I had never seen her that impressed before.

"Okay, so refresh me," she said. "Adam's the one with the insane super strength. Right?"

"Right."

She started listing them off on her fingers. "Adam can also burn things with his eyes and cause a massive shockwave. Bree . . ."

". . . has super speed and the ability to mimic anyone's voice," I finished for her.

"Right. And Chase is the one with the shield, super smarts and molecular kinesis."

"You got it all right."

"Okay, cool." She folded her hands on the table in front of her. She smirked. "And you made Adam try to beat you in an arm wrestle. I'm impressed."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

I looked down at my hands as I remembered what exactly I was supposed to be doing. I met my mom's eyes.

"Do you have those papers I asked for?"

She nodded and stood, disappearing into her room for a moment. When she was out of sight, I heard a door open and was bombarded with a massive hug from my little brother, Landon Strickland. He squeezed me tightly around the neck, almost making me choke.

"Hey, kiddo! How was school today?" I asked him.

"It was super super great!" he cheered, looking up at me and smiling. "I got a star on my math homework!"

"That's awesome!" I high-fived him.

"Did you go see the superheroes after school?"

"I did, yeah."

"What did they say?"

I sighed. "They don't know anything yet," I admitted. "But, I did get to arm wrestle Adam."

Landon's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Did you win?"

"No. But I made him actually try harder."

"Cool!"

The sound of shuffling footsteps stopped our conversation and we both looked up to see Mom walking back into the dining room. A stack of papers were in her hands, clutched tightly like she were holding a Bible. Landon's mouth opened in a big O and he left me and took his own seat at the table, leaning in to get a better look at what Mom had.

She placed the papers down on the table and spread them out. My interest piqued, I leaned in too. The papers were mostly pictures, but there were some cutouts of newsletters and screenshots from social media. They were gathered from what seemed like years and years of searching online. How long, exactly, I didn't know.

Mom pulled her chair back out and sat down, gesturing to the pictures and articles. "These are all of my attempts on finding your father over the years," she stated, "just like you asked."

I inhaled sharply as I scanned every single detail. Some were social media posts of kids on vacation in New York with a circle drawn around my dad's head in the background. Apparently he hadn't anticipated potentially photo bombing selfie-takers and tourists. So much for "keeping a low profile" and "not wanting to be found."

"When did you stop looking?" I inquired.

"Right after you went into middle school," she replied. "Right after you discovered your own powers."

Right, I thought. That makes sense.

And in all actuality, it did make sense. Mom was searching for answers as to why my dad left us, trying to find some genuine reason as to why he wouldn't want to see us anymore. And after discovering that her own daughter had the same sort of freakish powers her husband did, Mom assumed she had found the reason and thus began to hate me. Because she thought I was the reason he left her.

I picked up a cutout of a newspaper, reading it carefully. It was an article about an abandoned school building in Westchester. By the looks of the picture attached to the article, the building definitely had to have popped up around the '20s or '30s, around the time World War 2 started. It looked super old. It also looked like it used to be some sort of mansion before it turned into a school. It was way too fancy for any random private school.

It looked like it belonged to a prince.

There was a sign in front of the school and it read "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters". I groaned. What on earth did this have to do with my dad?

I flipped the paper around for my mom to see it. "Why is this in the stack?" I sighed. "There's nothing about Dad on it."

Mom gave me a cheeky grin. "Look again."

I raised an eyebrow and turned the page back over, scanning it carefully. My eyes landed on something my rain refused to comprehend. There was no way. There couldn't be a way for this to be true.

But yet there it was.

Circled in light pencil with an hand-drawn arrow pointing to it.

"Can I see?" Landon asked eagerly, rushing behind me and peering over my shoulder.

I barely even registered he was there beside me. My brain was too focused on what was right in front of me; the doubt, the fear, the overwhelming joy and relief. Why relief, you may ask? Because the date of the article was recent. Only a few months ago.

"You started looking again," I realized aloud, gaining a nod from my mom.

And I will never forget why I looked at that newspaper in such a way. It was because I saw clearly what was circled in pencil. There, standing behind the wall trying to conceal himself but failing miserably, was a tall man with brown hair and glasses.

Dad.

"He's still in New York."

But now the question was, would he continue to stay in New York?

Chapter Text

Searching for someone in the middle of the night on your laptop is not as fun as it sounds. Especially if that someone is your father.

Why, you may ask? Because you might find something you don't want to find.

Which is exactly what happened with me.

I had used the pictures and newspaper articles my mom had to search specific things on the internet. A bunch of different articles pulled up when I had punched in the words "Hank McCoy scientist" into the search bar. I clicked on one that was the most recent out of all of them, despite the fact that it was from twelve years ago.

The first thing that popped up was a picture of my dad standing next to a bald man in a wheelchair, holding up a random certificate I knew nothing about, so there was that. I took a long look at the picture. Standing behind my dad in the background was a group of people with big smiles plastered on their faces. I couldn't tell what they were happy about, but I guessed it had something to do with the certificate in my Dad's hand.

I squinted to try to read what was on the certificate, but it looked like it had been intentionally blurred out by someone. All the article said about the photo was "Henry McCoy and Charles Xavier make a huge step for their school for gifted youngsters". That was it. Nothing else.

What even was the school for gifted youngsters? What qualified as a "gifted youngster" anyways? Someone who was really good at sports? Someone who won the school talent show twice in a row? The term made no sense.

I continued to scroll the article to find whatever it is they were happy about but came up with nothing yet again. I opened a new tab and instead searched for Charles Xavier, the bald guy in the wheelchair that was in the picture with my dad. Hundreds more results came up than before. Apparently Charles Xavier was a professor, a scientist, a technician, a mathematician, basically the smartest man in the world besides Chase Davenport.

And maybe Marcus, since he had Chase's abilities too, I thought sadly, my spirits falling.

Sometimes I wondered what could have happened differently with Marcus, if there was a chance he could have changed and been saved. Maybe we could still be together if things had turned out differently. Could he be helping me search for my dad right now?

I refused to let my mind travel farther down that road and forced myself to focus on the matter at hand.

I clicked on a random article and that was when I found it.

I found the thing I didn't know existed but didn't want to find.

It was a picture of a crashed plane. At least I thought it was a plane. I had no clue what the heck happened because of the state of the crash---near disintegration---but I already knew I didn't like it. Something about it felt off.

The plane had crashed outside of LA, miraculously not near any buildings. Debris and whatever was inside the plane was strewn about the landscape, people bending down to examine the state of the wreckage, the hull of the plane burnt like it had exploded.

To make matters worse I saw glasses. I didn't know if they were my dad's glasses or not and that made my gut wrench with fear. If my dad was dead . . .

No.

I checked the date of the article. It was from a few days after the newspaper my mom had shown me.

My heart dropped.

No, no no no no . . .

My breathing became shallow, my eyes started to water with fresh tears. My brain refused to accept what was right in front of me. Is my dad really dead?

With shaking hands, I continued to scroll to find answers, wiping my tears to see the screen more clearly. I needed confirmation of some sort, even if it was news I didn't like.

The words kept scrolling by in a blur and I was barely reading them at all. My mind was barely engaged. The only thing that was registering at all was the reality that my dad was---possibly--- dead. And it made me want to puke.

Please don't be dead, I prayed. Please, please, please, please . . .

My eyes landed on something else. It was something someone else would have looked at and been heartbroken. It was something someone would have seen and assumed the worst. But I didn't. I don't know why I didn't, but I somehow knew that this was what I needed to see.

"Forensics picked up a sample of blood," the article said. "Upon further testing it appears to be the blood of none other than esteemed scientists Henry McCoy."

My heart was racing but it was no longer racing out of fear and disbelief. I wasn't afraid anymore, I wasn't speechless anymore. Instead, I was hopeful. One would wonder such a thing, but there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my reaction. And this was the reaction that kept me thinking all night long, keeping me from any sort of sleep.

I closed the laptop and climbed into bed, slipping my glasses off and staring at the ceiling. My mind was racing with everything I saw. But it was also calculating, working out my next move.

The blood. The blood made me hopeful because that plane had blown up. If there was blood, someone was alive.

If my dad's blood was found, that meant he was alive too.

Chapter Text

Did I sleep at all after that realization? Absolutely not. I went to school the next day an absolute zombie. What else do you expect?

After yawning when walking through the door, I scarcely remember walking into the first classroom. The lesson for the day couldn't have been that important, because I don't remember any of it. To say I was one of the walkers from the Walking Dead would be an understatement. Especially since I would respond to people with grunts and groans because I didn't have the energy to talk to anyone.

It was around lunchtime when my body finally decided it wanted to wake up. Leo plopped down next to me and leaned back, his eyes wide with shock.

"Abby," he began slowly, "you look like you're about to eat something raw."

I blinked out of my trance. "What?"

"I have never seen you look so feral before," Leo explained. "What on earth did you do last night?"

I shrugged. "Was on my computer too long," I said simply.

"Oh. So you're currently running on energy drinks. Got it."

That wasn't technically true, but I went with it. My body sometimes did this. It was like it was running on reserves and the reserves were super potent, or something.

It was true that I had stayed up too late on my computer, but I didn't say why. I didn't say why because I hadn't told them about my name yet, or about my father and who he was. And it wasn't like they had time to help anyways. Missions were super taxing and took up a lot of time. And if they weren't on a mission then they were doing schoolwork and/or training. And if not that? Sleeping.

Something I currently need to do, I thought bitterly.

I turned to Leo. "You don't look like you got too much sleep either, smart butt."

He stuck his tongue out at me. "That's my business."

"Why? What were you doing that you shouldn't have been doing?"

"I---"

"He was watching a PG-13 movie at midnight," Chase broke in. I hadn't seen him come into the cafeteria.

Leo glared at him. "How do you know that?"

Chase sighed and looked at him with his eyebrows raised. "You seem to forget that I have super hearing and that you like to watch your movies right above where I'm sleeping."

Leo flushed and crossed his arms, pouting. I looked at Chase and we both giggled. The comedy show you got to experience when being around this crazy family made all of the near-death experiences worth it. I know that sounds stupidly morbid. Don't worry about it, it's fine.

Something kept nagging at me and it took me a second to figure out what it was. I realized eventually that I needed to tell someone about my little endeavor but I had no idea who that someone would be. Who would be willing to help me with something as crazy as searching for a long lost dad?

I decided not to dwell on it and went to finish the school day. I would worry about it after school.

Mom was working on the laptop in the living room when I got home. She looked up at me and smiled when I walked in the door.

"How was school?" she asked.

"It was okay," I said. "Just the usual."

I slung my backpack off my shoulder and slumped into the chair across from her, sighing loudly. She gave me a curious look and I prayed that she wouldn't ask about.

But, of course, like how my luck is with everything, she did.

"Something you want to tell me?"

I chuckled dryly. "I hate how you know."

She closed her laptop and put away her reading glasses, setting both to the side and crossing her arms. "Alright," she said, "what's up?"

"Should I ask someone to help me look for Dad?"

The silence that followed was one of the most painful things in the world. Awkward silences were never fun, but they especially weren't when you had a topic as deep as this one. It sucked. And Mom wasn't one to let a serious conversation slide.

"Is there anyone you trust enough to help?" she asked.

"I mean, Adam, Bree and Chase are always an option," I reasoned. "But I'm not sure how they'll react to the 'hey, I'm actually not a Strickland, I'm a McCoy' conversation. They could look at me weird."

She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at me. The look on her face sent a chill down my spine. Every time I saw someone look at me with a raised eyebrow, I thought about him. Marcus Davenport. The dead android. It was like his face haunted me wherever I went, taunting me about how I failed to save his life even though I knew there was nothing that could be done.

It still killed me on the inside.

"How did they react when you told them about your powers?" Mom asked.

"They reacted well," I replied.

"So . . . what's making you so hesitant to share news about your dad?"

I thought about that for a moment. She made a good point. What reason was there for me not to talk about family stuff with my friends? Of course, I shouldn't share anything too personal with my friends, but Mom seemed to be okay with something like this, which was almost unheard of in my family. I guess finally coming out with the truth about my dad really changed her for the better. I couldn't imagine having so much pent-up rage over someone who left her all those years ago.

I thanked Mom for her time and walked out of the living room, taking my bag with me. I tossed my bag onto my bed and whipped out my phone, dialing Bree's number.

"Howdy, girl!" she greeted cheerfully. "What's up?"

"Bree, I need to see you at your house after school tomorrow," I said.

"Why?"

"I've got some news to share and help to enlist. Prep your siblings, okay?"

"Understood."

Chapter Text

To say the Davenports were excited about what I had to say was an understatement. When I walked into the lab from the elevator, Adam immediately jumped up from his chair and rushed over to me, bombarding me with dozens of questions. I told him he would have to wait until the others got there for me to explain everything, and at that response he acted like a toddler and pouted. It was both kind of amusing but also kind of sad.

Then the others walked in.

Chase was ecstatic, while Bree was just pretending not to excited, but she was. At any mention of a possible mission, the Davenport siblings always acted like they were going to jump out of their pants at any given moment.

"Bree told me you had something you needed help with," Chase said after regaining his composure. "What was it?"

"If you'll breathe for a second, I will," I sighed, rolling my eyes.

I explained to them the situation about my dad and what I was doing to search for him. They took it better than I thought they would; yet another display of how I can overthink way too much. You guys overthink, too, right? It can't just be me. If it is, I'm gonna have another talk with my therapist for lying to me.

Anyways.

Chase began to go over a few ways he could help look, and Bree offered to super-speed to New York and look for him, but I told her that was probably not a good idea, since New York was very populated and a lot of people would see her. She then began to pout like Adam and sit down with her arms crossed. I swear those people are like children sometimes.

"So, you saw him in the newspaper and then you saw the article about the plane crash?" Chase recapped. "Are you sure he's not . . . you know . . ."

"Chase, I saw blood," I reminded him. "That plane exploded."

"Okay, fair."

We looked over the files one more time, Chase deep in thought. It was so interesting to watch him work, like his mind was a computer. I sometimes wished I could open it up and see how each little part worked like you could with real life computers. I figured I could probably learn more from him in a day than I could with an entire lifetime of school.

That honestly probably has more to do with me not paying attention in class than anything else. Whatever, Chase is still really cool. You have to admit that.

It only took two seconds for Bree to surprise me. "When do you want to go looking for him in New York?"

I stared at her. "Are you serious?"

She crossed her arms and smirked. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

Chase sighed and addressed both of us. "You can't go while school is in session," he reasoned. "But, I think we can make a weekend trip of it and just do that for a few weeks until we find at least something."

"So, is your dad, like, super strong, too?" Adam asked from out of nowhere. He had a goofy smile plastered onto his face. "Can he transform into a cat? Or a dog? Ooo, what about a bear! Bears are awesome!"

It was always super fun when Adam got this excited. Either because he was about to break something or he was going to do a happy dance. He loved to surprise you like that. And what made it fun was watching Chase go through the five stages of grief every time.

Right now, he was going through denial.

I leaned into Bree to whisper in her ear. "How much you willing to bet that Chase is going to go into the anger stage in five minutes?"

She looked at me with a mischievous look in her eye. "Ten."

"You're on."

"Adam, I don't think that's how it works," Chase said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We don't even have anything to go off of for Abby's powers."

Adam didn't appear to hear him and just stood up, prancing over to the bowl of chips he had left on the holo-table and started munching on them. I hadn't even noticed they were there. Did he always have snacks hidden somewhere? It was kind of impressive, I'm not going to lie.

Unfortunately, it looked like Bree was going to get her money.

"Adam!" Chase shouted. "Can we please focus! Abby asked for our help and we need to take it seriously!"

"You owe me ten bucks," Bree murmured.

"Fine," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "You win this one."

The elevator door opened and we turned around to see Mr. Davenport walking in with a tablet in one hand and a coffee in the other. His brow was furrowed with deep thought as if something was bothering him. My heart began to pound as I remembered the blood test he had taken two days before. Could it be that he had already gotten a result?

Oh, I don't think I'm ready for this.

Mr. Davenport looked up at us and grinned, giving a little single-finger wave with his coffee hand. "Hey, guys," he greeted. "What are you up to?"

"We're helping Abby look for her dad!" Adam blurted. "I wonder if it's a situation like ours. You know, finds her dad but he's not actually her dad and then her real dad was the other dad's brother---"

"Adam!" the rest of us shouted at once. Chase looked as if he was about to turn into Spike and none of us wanted that to happen. Spike was a psychopath.

Mr. Davenport looked at us with his mouth hanging open slightly, his eyebrows raised in surprise. I had never seen that man so speechless in his entire life. He usually always had something to talk about---that something almost always being himself. Seeing Mr. Davenport speechless was like seeing a unicorn in the wild. Never happened.

But there we were, witnessing Adam Davenport make history.

He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again, shaking his head as if it wasn't worth it. He put his coffee down next to Adam's snack and waved me over to him. I complied, my heart pounding with fear and anticipation. This could be the answer about my powers. This could also help me find my dad.

If I could just get a sample of my dad's blood from the crash, somehow. . . .

The thought was absurd. There was no way in the world I would be able to do that. That was in a lab somewhere, completely unreachable. And why had I had that thought anyways?

Mr. Davenport showed me the tablet. There was an image of a double-helix, that much I knew. But the stuff down below that was just gibberish. I didn't speak science or math that well.

I cleared my throat. "What does it mean?"

Mr. Davenport looked up at me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You have a genetic mutation," he answered simply. "Take a look at this protein here. You see how it's shaped differently? It's not supposed to be there at all. When I put this through some tests, I tried to put the blood sample through some situations that would be stressful---or at least simulate them in some way."

There was a bit of silence, and then I realized that the others were standing behind me, Chase at my right and looking intently over my shoulder. It was kind of uncomfortable to feel them there, but at the same time it was comforting. At least I wouldn't be going through this alone.

"What did you find?" Chase asked suddenly, startling me. He noticed my reaction and apologized, smiling sweetly. I returned the smile, punching him in the arm playfully.

"The blood changed almost entirely," Mr. Davenport said excitedly. "It switched from that of a human's blood to almost entirely being a tiger's blood, with a few modifications of course. Tigers aren't that strong and aren't that fast."

I nodded, understanding. I was trying my best to mask my excitement, but I couldn't help it. I was finally getting answers, and the answer was simply that I had been born this way.

And knowing this, it would be easier to track down my dad without the extra weight on my mind.

It was time to take the search more seriously. And now this time I had help.

Chapter Text

It hadn't taken long at all for the weekend to arrive like I thought. Anticipation flooded through me. Today was the first real day I was going to go look for my dad, and I was going to make every second count.

Mom twisted the wheel to the left and the car pulled into the driveway of the Davenports' million-dollar mansion. She sighed and put the car in park, giving me a long look. She didn't look upset, but there was definitely something in her eyes that was throwing me for a loop. It was a mix of a bunch of different things.

"What is it, Mom?" I asked her. "You've got that look again."

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair and unbuckling her seatbelt. Was she getting out of the vehicle?

Before I could ask, she opened the door to the car and stepped out, walking confidently up to the front door of the Davenports'. I scrambled out of my seat and scampered after her, my backpack slung over my shoulder. What had gotten into her? She never got this spontaneous before and not too long ago she was completely against me going anywhere and was entirely disinterested in meeting any of my friends. I guess after the reconciliation we had---after I got shot, mind you---she had warmed up to more than I thought.

I approached the front door with her and she rang the doorbell. Crashes and shouting erupted from behind it and Mom looked at me in confusion and amusement.

"There's no telling what Adam has gotten into," I told her. "It could also be Adam and Chase. Or it could be all three of them. Or Leo could be in there, too . . ."

She laughed heartily. "Just how crazy are these people?"

"Depends on the day."

"What?"

The door slammed open to reveal Bree, who was looking exhausted and fighting with her newly-messed-up hair. She had that famous grin on her face that told me she "definitely didn't get into any sort of trouble right before this, don't worry about it and don't ask questions". It's a wonder to me to this day how they managed to keep their abilities a secret for so long. They were awful liars.

Bree blew a strand of hair out of her face. "So," she began with a grin, "how are you guys doing?"

Something crashed behind her and she cringed. My mom jumped and we exchanged a concerned glance while I tried my best to hold in my laughter. That was most likely Adam and Chase fighting over a video game. And Bree trying to make everything look normal made the whole situation so much more hilarious.

Bree sighed and looked at Mom apologetically. "I guess there's no point in hiding the chaos, is there?"

"No worries," Mom laughed. "I grew up with five brothers. This is normal to me."

"You had five brothers!" Bree exclaimed, her eyes growing to the size of dinner plates. "I have no idea whether I should be impressed or horrified!"

The three of us walked inside and, just as I suspected, Chase and Adam were wrestling on the floor for the last video game controller while Leo sat on the couch with his face in his right hand, his left clutching the other controller. Out of all the things Mr. Davenport couldn't afford, I would never have guessed a third controller would be one of them.

When Leo saw us, he started yelling at his brothers to get their attention, but to no avail. They kept grabbing at each other and at one point Adam even went to punch Chase, but Chase managed to duck out of the way. I could separate them, but I didn't feel like it. It was too entertaining.

Then realization struck me.

"Bree, why are you all messed up?"

Her eyes widened again and her mouth clamped shut. She folded her arms and I saw her face turn bright red behind a curtain of brunette hair. What on earth could she have gotten into?

"I play video games sometimes, too, okay?" she mumbled in response.

Angry footsteps shook the ground for a moment and that was when all the chaos stopped at once, fear being the resounding feeling radiating in the room.

That was probably . . .

"Guys!"

. . . Mr. Davenport.

And there came the middle-aged ball of fury himself, all red faced and looking like he was having his third stroke of the day. I was honestly surprised he had made it this far with his kids. I would have curled into a ball and cried my woes away years ago. And most-likely have just eaten a bunch of powdered donuts in a corner so that I could have them to myself.

Am I really starting to relate to a middle-aged man? Unbelievable.

But hey, that might mean I can relate to my dad a little more when I finally meet him.

"Guys," Mr. Davenport repeated through clenched teeth, "can't you see we have guests?"

Chase and Adam collectively looked up at him and then trained their gazes over to me and Mom. They laughed sheepishly and pushed away from each other, standing slowly. Chase looked really embarrassed while Adam just smiled from ear-to-ear. I swear, nothing can bring that man's day down in any way. He will always find the entertainment in any situation.

Unless someone took away his gummy bears as punishment, that is. Sometimes he was mature and other times he was a six-foot toddler full of muscle. It really just depended on the day.

"Hey, guys," Chase greeted sheepishly. "How are you doing?"

"We're doing well, thanks," I replied. I walked up to him and gave him a hug, which he returned cheerfully.

I exchanged hugs with Adam, Bree and Leo and I introduced everyone to my mom. She matched their warm energy and put on a nice, wide and genuine smile. I had never seen my mother so vibrant in front of other people before. It was amazing to see. I was glad she was finally warming up to new things after we had that long talk in the living room the year before. She was a totally different person.

Of course it takes me getting shot, I thought to myself. But it's good to know that she still cares about me.

But he cared about me, too.

I pushed the thought away. Why Marcus was beginning to occupy my mind again after a year of being dead, I wasn't sure, but I also didn't like the fact that I was letting it happen. It was interesting because it seemed like I couldn't help it. Like I wanted him to still be present, but I knew that it wasn't possible. He was crushed under tons of rubble, his metal endoskeleton just a pile of scraps and his hard drive filled with his memories flattened. He could possibly be fixed, but . . .

Why was I even considering that option? My dad was the priority.

Speaking of . . .

"Mom, do you know why we're here?" I asked her, turning in her direction with my arms crossed.

She shrugged. "I have a general idea, I think."

"We're here because the Davenports are going to be taking me to New York to look for Dad."

Mom stood there in stunned silence for a moment, her eyes wide with surprise. She wasn't angry but she was definitely questioning bringing me here.

I don't blame her.

She blew a raspberry with her cheeks puffed. "Well, that's not what I was thinking after all," she chuckled.

"I hope you're okay with this, Miss Strickland," Mr. Davenport soothed. "It'll only be for the weekend. She'll take the jet with the kids and be back in time for school on Monday."

"Alright," Mom sighed. "Why not? You're sixteen now and it's not like anyone is going to be able to hurt you guys." She pulled me in for a tight hug. "Stay safe, Kiddo."

Chapter Text

Watching the clouds go by as our plane began to descend was one of the craziest experiences of my entire life. I hadn't ever been on a plane before and my first flight being on a private jet was insane. Adam, Bree, Chase and Leo acted like this was just another everyday occurrence, and of course they did. Their dad was a multi-millionaire. This was probably like taking the bus to school every day for them.

The plane jostled slightly as the tires made contact with the runway, making me shake in my seat a little. The flight had been peaceful for the most part. There was only a little turbulence and the biggest annoyance of the whole thing was Adam asking a bunch of random questions like a five-year-old the whole way there. To say that I wanted to shove a box of tissue paper down his gullet just to get him to stop talking was an understatement. But, then again, I couldn't do that to Adam. He was too much of a teddy bear for me to bring myself to do something that mean.

Chase was sitting across from me, his eyes trained on the window and his body tense. I wasn't sure why he was so nervous, considering the fact that I was the one with the missing father.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, nudging his knee slightly with mine. "You look like you're about to wet yourself."

He jumped and smiled sheepishly, looking down. "I'm fine," he assured me. "It's just . . . this is my first time in a big city."

I laughed. "Same here. But I'm more excited than scared."

"That's why I'm nervous."

I gave him a questioning look and watched as his face turned red. He made brief eye contact with me and then cleared his throat, signaling Bree, who was sitting with Adam and Leo. "We need to go over a game plan," he announced. "We can't go into this blind. Especially not in New York. Crime rate is super high here."

"We won't be staying in the city for that long, Chase," Bree reminded him. "We're going to Westchester, remember?"

"Right, but---"

"Chase, we're fine," Leo repeated for Bree. "You can calm down."

We exited the plane without much issue. The issue came when we walked out of the airport and both Adam and Bree lost their minds. Bree started to jump up and down excitedly and I had to physically restrain her to keep her from super speeding around. Adam almost burned down a topiary with his heat vision, but Chase managed to redirect him and keep him calm. It was like dealing with a bunch of puppies in a room full of dog treats.

While walking the sidewalks and avoiding getting jostled by people, Chase took his position next to me as a human shield from the road. I had seen enough dating shows to know what he was doing but decided not to say anything about it, despite the growing smile that was playing at my lips. I couldn't help but appreciate his cuteness.

Leo did a little skip ahead of us, almost hitting a pedestrian. "I can't believe we're in New York City!" he exclaimed. "This is insane!"

"Like Bree said, we won't be staying long," I reminded him.

"Who cares?" Adam asked. "I'm gonna enjoy my time here while it lasts!"

"Adam," Chase warned, "don't even try."

Adam's shoulders slumped like a pouting toddler and he continued to walk with his feat clopping against the ground like a horse's hooves. Our first goal was to get to Westchester. Upon finding a map, we discovered that we needed to head toward Yonkers; North. Chase flagged down a taxi and we all climbed into it, Chase in the front so he could give directions. The rest of us had to squeeze to fit into the back, and I had to sit on Adam's lap. The fact that the driver was okay with this was completely beyond me, but I decided not to question it.

But that didn't make it any less awkward.

When we finally got out of the cab, we were at the edge of New York City and just before Yonkers. We would have to continue the rest of the way on foot. That wouldn't be much of an issue if it weren't for the amount of people. Bree could just speed us there in shifts but there were too many people around. The risk was too high.

And walking wasn't much fun either.

But we did anyway.

As we walked, Chase and the others continued to ramble on, but I tuned them out as I tried to go over possibilities of what I would say to my dad when I saw him---if I saw him. That wasn't a pleasant thought, but it was a thought that needed to be had. I needed to be realistic.

The people around me began to grow more and more sparse as we continued into the smaller city, now inside Westchester County. The sun was beginning to get lower in the sky and I was beginning to worry. Where on earth would I begin to look for my dad? Would my dad even want to see me if I found him? Would he be like Douglas and just not care about me at all? Wasn't that why he left in the first place?

I refused to believe that my dad was as bad as Douglas was. Douglas abused his son and was just willing to let him die without consequence. The thought made me sick.

Especially when I saw that bruise painting his chin when he came into school, his eyes scared and sad whenever he looked at me. His perfect little brown eyes that had seen too much for a fifteen-year-old boy to handle. In that moment, I had just wanted to envelope him in a hug and let him know that it was going to be okay, that we could run away together and then we would be safe. But little did I know he wouldn't even make it to his sixteenth birthday.

And Douglas didn't care.

I felt someone nudge my shoulder and I looked up to see Chase looking at me with worried eyes. He leaned in to whisper into my ear and I felt his breath brush my neck, giving me goosebumps.

"Are you okay?"

I inhaled a shaky breath and pursed my lips to bite back the tears. What was wrong with me? There was no way I loved Marcus enough to cry over him a year after he died. I didn't even know him that long, and that wasn't my priority during this trip. My dad was.

"I miss him," I whispered in response.

Chase didn't need clarification to know who I meant. He returned his attention to what was in front of him, his jaw set as he measured his next thought carefully.

"You know," he began, "I've been thinking about Marcus a lot lately, too."

I looked at him in shock. "Really?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I keep thinking about the potential he had as a person and what could have changed to make him live a normal life, you know? If he only had a different dad, maybe things could have turned out differently and we really could have been good friends."

I almost couldn't believe that I was hearing these words come out of Chase Davenport's mouth. After it was revealed that Marcus was evil, Adam, Bree and Chase made Marcus their sworn enemy almost immediately. But as I thought about it, it made sense. Chase and Marcus had developed a close friendship over the time we knew Marcus. I could understand why Chase was thinking about those things.

"Do you think we could fix him?" I blurted.

He gave me a look that told me I had just asked a very dumb question. "He was crushed under tons of rock, Abby," he reminded me painfully. "It would take much more advanced equipment than what we already have and possibly even a miracle to bring him back. Besides---" he looked straight ahead and sighed--- "we would have to work out how to give him a longer life."

My spirits fell. Since finding out about my dad, there was nothing I wanted more than to hear Marcus give me advice. It hurt every time I thought about him, so I pushed him aside in my mind to make room for the search for my dad. I thought it would be a good distraction, but apparently the distraction wasn't working very well.

That was fine. All I had to do was find my dad and then I could worry about Marcus later.

Chapter Text

We eventually found a hotel to check into and Mr. Davenport had apparently called ahead to get the hotel staff ready for a bunch of teenagers that were looking to spend the night. I never could have been more thankful for that self-centered, middle-aged man. If anything suspicious surrounding five teenagers happened, we could end up in a juvenile detention center.

Or, you know, we could be shipped off to a lab somewhere. That wouldn't be ideal.

We got two separate rooms; Bree and I in one and the boys in the other. The plan was to get our stuff settled into our rooms and then go out for a walk, trying to lay out locations as to where my dad would be; a game plan, in a sense.

After I threw my backpack onto my bed, Bree plopped onto hers and looked at me with her eyebrows raised. She had that look in her eyes again, and it didn't help that the lamp was on, making her brown gaze more sinister than it usually was.

I sighed. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," she giggled. "I just noticed you and Chase talking earlier."

"Bree, that's not what it is," I corrected. "Chase and I are just friends. That's all we'll ever be."

"Sure. If you say so."

"I mean it."

That seemed to be the end of that conversation. Bree didn't bring it up again as we both met up with the boys in the lobby of the hotel. Chase suggested that we all work our way from the middle of Westchester to the outside, since the mansion that was in the article appeared to be in the countryside. It wasn't quite nighttime yet and we had some time to cover ground.

I was too distracted by the thumping of my own heart to realize how far out we had gone from the center. And what drew my attention away from the anticipation of seeing my father after years of him being gone was something that sent chills down my spine.

I had the sense that I was being watched, and so I let my eyes drift to where the sensation was coming from.

I saw a tall figure, clothed in a hoodie with baggy pants. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his hoodie and his head was down to conceal his face, so all she saw was a mouth drawn into a thin line. Something about this man was more foreboding than I originally thought.

I gripped Chase's arm and when he asked what was wrong I pointed out the man. I could feel Chase tense up. He knew something was off. And it appeared that the others did as well.

"Are we being followed?" Leo whispered worriedly, his eyes landing on the hooded man.

Adam and Bree stopped in their tracks at Leo's words and turned back to face us, careful not to make eye contact with the man so as to not raise suspicion.

"What's our game plan, Chase?" Bree asked in undertones. "How do we shake this guy?"

"How do we know this guy is even a threat?" Adam asked, a little more loudly than he should have.

"LOOK OUT!"

I let out an oof when Chase collided with me, pinning me to the ground and using his own body as a shield on top of mine. Something whizzed over our heads and crashed behind us. I heard Bree speed away with her super speed.

People were screaming. Leo tried running away but stumbled and fell down next to us. I heard another metallic crash and gripped Chase's shirt, burying my face in his chest as fear radiated throughout my entire body. I didn't care what became of this. He saved my life and I didn't want to die yet.

After a moment of silence, we stood slowly. I glanced around fearfully, trying to pin down where the guy was, but I couldn't find him. Instead, I saw Bree breathing heavily and Leo on the verge of tears. Adam looked extremely angry and Chase . . .

Chase was holding my shoulders in a protective hug.

I looked behind me to see an entire car with its wheels facing skyward on the street behind us. Luckily, there was no one inside it. Upon further inspection, a metal park bench had been uprooted and thrown in the other direction, likely aimed at either Adam or Bree.

The reality of our situation was probably one of the scariest I had ever come across in my entire life.

"That guy had molecular kinesis," Chase breathed. "And really powerful molecular kinesis, too. I couldn't imagine throwing a car using my abilities."

Bree shakily walked over to us and the Adam and Leo gathered as well. She had a look in her eyes that said something that we were all thinking but none of us wanted to consider.

"You don't think . . ." She didn't finish. She didn't need to.

Marcus.

But it wasn't possible. Marcus was a child and that was a man. But again, there couldn't be anyone else bionic around, unless Douglas had begun manufacturing more soldiers in hiding. He would be the type of person to do that.

We all decided to go back to the hotel to regroup and discuss. Upon arrival, we all gathered in the girls' room, none of us wanting to say anything. None of us knew what to say.

Chase and Bree were sitting on my bed with me while Leo and Adam sat on the floor. Chase had that thinking look on his face again, and none of us wanted to disturb him. You didn't want to interrupt his thought process. The result of that was never pretty. The options were either Spike or just some really cruel and well thought out prank.

Chase could be really evil when he wanted to be.

My hands shook as he finally broke the silence.

"How did he know we were coming?" he wondered aloud. "And who was he?"

"None of us know the answer to that question," Bree told him, shaking her head. "Whoever it was had Abby as their target, not us. You had to protect her."

"Yeah, and then he threw a park bench at me," Adam reminded her. "Luckily I caught it and threw it away. You're the one who decided it was a great idea to super-speed while people were around."

"What was I supposed to do? I had to get to that guy!"

"Guys, can we all stop arguing and just discuss?" Leo jumped in, rising to his feet out of exasperation.

We all apologized and he sat back down, leaving us to think again. I rolled over the options in my mind. There was the possibility that he was bionic, but then again Douglas was without a lab so he didn't have the materials to build another superhuman. There was the possibility that it was Marcus, but Marcus was crushed beyond repair, and there was no way he could have grown into a man that quickly.

Could it be . . . ?

No. No, it couldn't. Could it?

"Was that my dad?" I asked aloud, targeting the question to no one.

Everyone gaped at me, looking as if I had grown a third head. But I could see the belief in their eyes, the gears turning and realizing that it could have been him.

"That doesn't make any sense," Chase said, shaking his head. "Why would your own dad want to kill you?"

I shrugged. "He left my mom after my brother was born. Maybe he hated me that badly."

"Doubtful."

"Well," Leo began, his shoulders rising slightly. "You do remember who your dad was, right?"

His three siblings glared at him all at once. Even Adam, and he never got angry that quickly. I figured I needed to disperse the tension before they all got into a fist fight that would result in Leo getting injured. He was the only one who didn't have abilities out of the five of us and I didn't want to see how that would turn out for him.

"That's not what we're talking about right now," I reminded them. "And I don't even know if it was my dad anyways. It was probably just another bionic guy. Or a robot like Marcus."

"Or he wasn't your dad but he was a mutant like you."

We all stared at Adam. Why did he always have the most obviously correct answers at the most random times?

"What did you call her?" Leo asked suddenly.

Adam shrugged. "A mutant."

"Uh, why?"

"Well, Mr. Davenport said something about a mutation, and I like the word 'mutant'."

"Fair enough, I guess."

"So you think he could be special like me?" I asked, leaning forward onto my knees.

Adam nodded slowly. "Well, yeah. Both you and your dad can do cool stuff. Why not other people?"

I thought about this for a moment. He could be right. He could one hundred percent be right. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up in anticipation.

Was that what the article meant by "School for Gifted Youngsters"?

Chapter Text

I couldn't get any sleep that night. I could still see the shadow falling over Chase and I as he held me close in a protective embrace on the pavement. Was that how Marcus felt in his final moments? Seeing the end coming and feeling everything slow down around him?

Why was I spared and he wasn't?

The world was a cruel place.

I woke up before Bree the next morning and had to work really hard to get her sleepy butt out of the bed. She was extra groggy because she didn't sleep in her capsule like she usually did, but one of those fancy pills Mr. Davenport sent along with them later and she was feeling like her usual self in no time. The pills did the same thing as the capsules but they were more expensive, so they were only used in moments like these; when they were on a mission where they didn't have access to a capsule.

I walked into the bathroom and started brushing my teeth, taking note of my tangled blonde mess of hair and the dark circles under my icy eyes. I had definitely had a restless sleep and it was really bad. I couldn't continue like that. I was running on reserves and felt like a zombie again.

I spat the toothpaste out of my mouth and rinsed, turning off the faucet. I pulled my brush my hair as best as I could and slipped on my glasses. I walked out of the bathroom and jerked my thumb behind me.

"Your turn," I told Bree.

She hopped up cheerfully and started her morning routine, humming to herself as she went. As I started running through options of what to do for the day in my head, her phone started going off like crazy.

I was tempted to look at it, but then decided I would just ask. Because, you know, I'm normal.

Wow. Never thought those words would escape my mouth in my lifetime.

"Bree, who's texting you?"

Her head whipped around and her face turned bright red. "No one," she said quickly, turning back around to finish brushing her teeth.

I sighed. "Girl, you've got a boyfriend, don't you?"

Her shoulders tensed and she spit out her toothpaste, rinsing her mouth out and slowly walking back into the room, sighing and plopping down on her bed. I could tell she was fighting a smile.

"Okay, yes," she admitted finally. "His name's Owen."

"The artist?"

"Yes! He's so dreamy!" She flopped onto her back and giggled. "He paints pictures of me all the time."

I cringed inwardly. That seemed a little obsessive. Why on earth would anyone want to paint someone so much that they do it all the time? I mean, I liked Marcus a lot---maybe even loved him---but you would catch me dead before you saw me doing something like that. I was starting to question the relationship Bree had with Owen. I guessed I just needed to meet the kid myself instead of just being judgmental.

After we finished getting ready, we met with the boys in the lobby, finishing our food. It wasn't too long after that before we were out on the road again.

This time, we were all alert, looking around to make sure we weren't about to be ambushed by the lone mutant again. The thought of that man throwing something that big at us again scared me. How did he know who I was? And even if he knew who I was, why was he trying to kill me? If it wasn't for Chase, I would be a pancake.

My feet smacked the pavement with each step, keeping my mind focused on the steady rhythm. It was a welcome distraction and it helped me stay on course with what we were even in New York for: My dad. I still had no idea what I would say to the man when I finally met him for the first time. Well, it wouldn't be my first time meeting him, but it felt like my first time.

I have no idea how old I was when he left my family.

Chase eventually suggested that we go into the local coffee shop and ask if people had seen him. It would take less time and would be easier to get a feel for what kind of people lived around there. We all agreed and headed into the nearest coffee shop: Stan's Café.

The inside of the shop was a lot like a bar; dark with long tables and an actual bar to sit at and drink your coffee. There were some people at tables by the windows on their laptops, getting their work done. I felt bad for them. Working on a Saturday must suck.

Our next problem was trying to figure out who to ask for my dad. We all took a place at the bar and ordered. I got a hot chocolate along with Leo and Adam while Chase skipped out and Bree got a Latte. Once our drinks got to us, we sipped them gingerly and began to discuss in lowered voices.

"So, what? Do we just ask the barista?" Bree asked, sipping her Latte. "'Hey, Mr. Barista. We're looking for a man that disappeared over a decade ago, have you seen him?'"

I almost choked on my hot chocolate, but luckily Chase jumped in to save me.

"No, Bree, we need to be a bit more strategic than that," he sighed. He drummed his fingers on the counter, deep in thought. "I could try small-talking someone."

"Chase, we all know that's not going to go well," Adam groaned. "You're terrible at small talk. No one wants to hear about your fancy numbers and weird facts."

"I wouldn't be talking about math or facts."

"Then would it hurt for me to say that you're just a terrible person to talk to because you're so boring?"

"Uh, yes."

"Okay, all of you are dumb," Leo jumped in. "Let me."

He flagged down a barista with long red hair. He gave her a charismatic grin, even though she was well over a decade older than him.

"Hey," he began. "What's your name?"

The barista raised an eyebrow at him and made a point of looking down at her nametag. "Lilly. My name is Lilly."

"So, Lilly, my name is Leo. Nice to meet you."

It took all I could not to gag or burst out laughing. It was so painful to watch.

"Anyways," he continued, picking the at the wood of the bar, "there's a really famous scientist around here named Hank McCoy. My friend Chase, here, was looking to get an internship with him. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find him, would you?"

Lilly scrunched her nose and lowered her eyebrows. "Um, no."

"Well---"

"Are you guys looking for Hank McCoy?"

All of us looked in the direction of the voice and saw a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl who looked to be about in her thirties. She wore a leather jacket over a white T-shirt and jeans, her boots being black and sleek.

I saw Lilly slip away out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't blame her. Leo was being a bit . . . strange with that interaction.

"Yes," Bree confirmed. "Do you know him?"

My heart hammered in my chest as I waited for the girl's response.

"Depends on who's asking," the lady said, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow.

I contemplated on what to say. Should I tell her about who I was? Should I tell her the truth or should I lie like Leo was doing? Something told me that I could trust her, but I didn't know what it was.

You can just tell her, you know.

I froze, trying to figure out where that thought came from, because it didn't feel like my own. But at the same time, it did feel like something I would think. Weird.

"I'm asking," I blurted. "I'm his daughter, Abby."

I wanted to slap myself. I had given too much away to a complete stranger.

The lady's mouth twisted upward slightly in a slight smile. "Then, yes, I do know him. But he never told me about him being a father, or a husband for that matter."

I couldn't believe it. Was it really that easy?

"Who are you?" Chase asked suddenly.

She pointed at him thoughtfully. "I like this kid. He's asking all the right questions." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "My name is Raven. Raven Darkholme."

Chapter Text

I kept doubting that I had actually found someone who knew my dad that easily. It seemed too simple, too convenient. No one else seemed to be questioning it.

Why was I always the only one---besides Leo---that found issue with something suspicious? Well, I hadn't really found that much of an issue with Marcus in the beginning, to be fair. But there was something about him that had drawn me in, made me feel special. Little did I know he had been lying to me the whole time.

He lied to all of us.

So why was part of me still missing him?

Raven led us to a house at the edge of town, rapping on the door three times before putting her hands on her hips. A few moments passed until the door swung inward, revealing a tall, middle-aged man. His sideburns extended down into a neatly-trimmed beard, graying slightly at the temples. His gaze was hard and he looked over us for a moment before talking to Raven in undertones. What was so serious that they couldn't tell us about?

The man grunted and nodded at the rest of us. "Come on inside," he said gruffly.

We looked at each other and cautiously followed him and Raven inside. The inside of the house was a bit messy and run-down like it hadn't been cleaned in a while. A few beer bottles on the dining room table---as well as the smell of alcohol---told me that this man had a bit of a drinking problem. But, he didn't seem to be too affected mentally by the amount he had been drinking. It was honestly impressive.

The man looked at us and gestured to the living room. "Make yourself at home. . . . I guess." He looked up at Raven. "I need to talk to you for a second."

Raven followed him out of the room and left us alone. I joined Chase and Adam on the couch while Leo and Bree took the two reclining chairs. I examined the couch and noticed a few large scratch marks, almost like claws. Did this guy have a big dog or something?

"Any guesses as to why Raven brought us here?" Chase asked me, picking at the leather of the couch.

I shook my head. But there was something about her that seemed so familiar, almost like I had seen her somewhere before. Her face seemed to haunt the back of my mind. Taunting me, somehow.

The dark house was almost like a prison. I wondered why the man wanted to keep himself shut off from the world, it made no sense. So far, I hadn't seen any sign of the dog he clearly had, but I definitely heard Raven speaking to him around the corner. The voices seemed to get louder, and that was when I noticed them returning to the living room.

Raven stepped in first, looking a bit annoyed, and the man came in behind her. He didn't look annoyed, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was permanently angry. The fact that his muscles rivaled Adam's in size didn't help. Though I knew that both me and Adam could probably beat him strength-wise, he was definitely seasoned in fighting, and by the looks of his stature it was probably either cage fighting or street fighting.

Lovely.

He waved his hand slightly, like he wanted to talk but wasn't sure what to say. He looked at me and grunted.

"So, you're Hank's kid?" he asked me. "Interesting. He never told me about you."

I leaned forward onto the edge of my seat. "You knew my dad?"

"Yeah. Hank, Raven and I used to work together. We had a big . . . work force. A lot of employees."

"My built-in lie detector is going off," Adam put in, a serious look on his face. He pointed at the man in a cartoonish way. "You're lying, sir."

I had to suppress the urge to burst out laughing. Even if Adam was being serious, he always acted in the most unserious way possible. And laughing at a time like this would probably make Mr. Angry Pants even more angry, so I decided to hold my breath for a second until the sensation left me.

I started to consider what Adam said. The man sure did seem like he was lying to some extent. Or, at least he wasn't telling us everything.

What was he hiding?

"Adam, why do you think he's lying?" Bree asked. "Why would he lie? He doesn't know us."

"He's not lying," Chase corrected. "He's just not telling us everything."

"And how would you know that?" the man spat. "You don't know a thing about me."

The silence that followed was painful. The tension was one of the most prominent things in the room. Raven had a controlled expression, but her breathing pattern and body language said otherwise. The man wasn't much better. He was actually worse at hiding how he felt with his face. He looked like he wanted to kill someone, and that was putting it lightly.

Raven elbowed him. "Logan, we might as well be honest. She's Hank's kid, after all."

"Just because she's your former lover's kid, doesn't mean we need to tell her everything," Logan growled.

Raven turned bright red and found the floor with her eyes. My face heated with embarrassment as well. Raven and my dad were a thing? But Raven didn't look that old.

Just how much did we not know about these people?

What would the odds be that these guys are also mutants? I wondered. Or would that be too outlandish?

"Okay, stop talking about her like she's not here!" Chase exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the arm of the couch. "She came all the way out to New York to find her dad and not helping her is only making things worse!"

"Okay, okay, chill out, kid," Logan scoffed, waving his hand at Chase.

That was when I noticed his blood-stained knuckles. What had he done to make only his knuckles that messed up?

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled something under his breath. I swear, it was like everything annoyed this man. What a depressing life to live. But, then again, there was probably something going on in his life that made him like this. Maybe after my dad left he changed.

Could that mean that my dad was . . .

No. I refused to go there.

"So, you want to know the truth?" Logan asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Yes." I nodded eagerly. "Please tell me."

Raven gave Logan a look. "Show them."

Logan grunted again and lifted his right hand, balling it into a fist. Slowly but surely, something sprouted out of his knuckles that would make me sick for days. Leo looked like he was about to throw up at the sight, and I didn't blame him.

Metal claws were growing out of Logan's knuckles. Three of them in total, fitting into the slot between the knuckles. They grew to about a foot long before stopping, glinting in the light coming from the lamp on the table beside the couch.

"Now you know," Logan stated simply.

My heart pounded. There was no logical way for something like that to happen and Logan be completely unharmed from it. He didn't even cry out in pain. That shouldn't have been possible.

And yet here it was.

"Something tells me you're able to do something like this, too," Logan said to me, raising a bushy eyebrow.

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Not surprised."

"Your dad was a mutant, too," Raven explained. "I guess you already know that, though. But he was a part of a team, like you are."

"But we're not mutants," Bree protested. "Adam, Chase and I are all bionic. Leo is a normal kid, though."

"Hey! I'm still awesome!" Leo corrected with a frown, crossing his arms and pouting. "You don't need bionics or weird mutant abilities to be awesome."

"So what kind of team was my dad a part of?" I asked, eager to hear more.

Logan and Raven exchanged a glance. I wondered if Raven could possibly be a mutant, or if she was just a normal human that happened to be friends with my dad. Judging by the circumstances, the odds of her being a normal human were slim to none. The only question left to ask was---if she was a mutant---were her powers more deadly than mine or Logan's?

"I guess you could call us superheroes," Raven continued. "But we called ourselves the X-Men."

"'We'?"

In an instant, Raven's body rippled and her skin changed to scaly and blue, her eyes solid yellow except for her pupils. Her hair was no longer long and blonde, but now short, sleek and bright red.

We all jumped backwards at the sight, Chase's mouth hanging open, Bree's eyes wide, Leo looking like he wanted to bolt and Adam just looking like he had found a candy shop.

"Awesome!" Adam exclaimed, jumping to his feet and pumping his fists in the air. "Abby, you've got a weird family!"

But I was too stunned to notice what he meant by that. It was a relief to know that I wasn't the only mutant in the world when I found out about my dad.

But what other world had I stepped into?

Chapter Text

The following hour was one of the strangest I had ever experienced in my life. Logan and Raven were the two most interesting people I had ever met and it was simply because I had never met another mutant personally. The thought that there were others like me was a comfort in itself, but the fact that I was not speaking to two of them felt like I had found a home somewhere.

Maybe my dad would feel the same way when I met him?

I thought about what Marcus would say about this. He would either laugh or be a little off-put. Either way, I knew he would definitely have a ton of questions to ask them and me. I could just see his perfect brown eyes light up as the conversation went on. What I would give to see that smile just one more time . . .

Man, I needed help. Badly.

We can worry about him later, I reminded myself. Right now, we're focusing on finding my dad.

Our group had grown by two members and we were now walking toward where the run-down building was in the article, since all of us couldn't fit in a taxi or Logan's car. Logan had a really nice car. Like, a super nice car. How did he manage to afford something like that? His house definitely didn't show any sign of a well-paying job.

I looked up at the rugged mutant. What were his secrets? What made him tick?

How did he figure out he was special?

"I don't like you staring at me like that," he said gruffly, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "If you have something to ask, just ask it. Don't stare like that, it's uncomfortable."

I blinked rapidly out of shock. "Sorry," I apologized. I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I spoke.

"What, exactly, do you and Raven do together?"

Logan's head snapped to my direction and then exchanged a glance with Raven, who just shrugged. The Davenports were listening intently behind us.

"Yeah, why are you two so weird?" Adam asked suddenly.

"Adam!"

"What, Bree? We were all thinking it."

"No, it's a valid question," Raven said. "You don't meet people like us every day like you used to."

"'Used to'?" Chase repeated.

"Long story."

We continued to walk through Westchester and eventually the town thinned out. There weren't many houses around, and it was mostly trees next to the road. I imagined how ridiculous this must look to passing cars; a group of teenagers and two adults leading them down a nearly-abandoned road. They would either think that this was some weird school trip or that it was a very dysfunctional family going on a hiking trip. I was hoping it was the first option, because I definitely didn't want to say I was related to Raven or Logan. That would be awkward.

But what was it that Logan had said about Raven and my dad? They were former lovers? What happened between them and what would have happened if he had married her instead of my mom? How would I have turned out?

Would I even have met the Davenports?

That was a thought I didn't want to dwell on.

"How much farther away?" Leo groaned, his footsteps clopping on the pavement.

"Stop complaining," Logan snapped. "What, do you want me to carry you or something?"

"Is that an option?"

"No!"

I couldn't help but giggle. Logan was funny, I had to admit. Even if he was a bit rude sometimes. I also didn't think he even mean to be funny. Someone had definitely rubbed off on him to make him so hilarious without him realizing it.

A gap opened up in the trees to reveal a large lawn. My heart skipped a beat. Was this it? Was this the huge, World War 2 mansion?

A few more steps would reveal the answer.

There it stood before me, the largest house I had ever seen. There had to be at least a hundred rooms in there. And there was no telling what else. Was there a ballroom? A massive library? I had so many questions, and it didn't look like either Raven or Logan would be willing to answer them.

By the looks of it, they were visiting a place in their memory that they wanted to forget. So many memories flashed behind those eyes that I was scared to ask about them. And I thought I was traumatized. They looked like they had seen every war under the sun.

We came upon a gate---the same gate that was seen in the article. It was wrought iron and stood wide open, a sign plastered to one of the brick pillars that held it up:

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

We were here. We made it.

Is my dad inside?

We paused at the gate, taking it all in. Logan looked at Raven and gave a sad smile. It was the first time I had seen him smile and it surprised me. I didn't think he was capable of such a thing.

"Bring back any memories, Mystique?" he asked her.

She returned the smile and looked back at the house. "Too many, Wolverine."

Mystique? Wolverine? What on earth were those names? They had to be code names or something. I looked at Chase for help and he was too busy analyzing every single detail of the mansion that stood before him. It was so interesting to see his brain work. I don't even know how to explain how you could see it work, but you could just by looking at his eyes.

I elbowed him. "It's kinda funny that you're more enthralled than I am and this is a step into my family history."

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Yeah, it is."

"You kids ready?" Raven asked us, taking us out of our own thoughts.

"Hey, what is this place?" Bree piped up. "You really haven't given us much information."

Logan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you always asking questions?"

"Give them a break," Raven scolded, slapping him on the arm. "This is all brand new for them."

Logan looked skyward and sighed, placing his hands on his hips and unintentionally showing off his bloody knuckles. The sight made my stomach churn as I remembered how he got them. The blades. How on earth had he managed to live so long with them?

"Alright," he said finally, clapping his hands together. "This is our old home. Happy?"

He turned his attention to me. "Your dad used to live here, too, kiddo."

And that was when I stopped breathing. This was my dad's old home? How on earth did he have the budget to afford this? I mean, he was a scientist, so maybe that was it. Or maybe he was just friends with the owner.

I recalled the picture in the article and the image of my dad standing next to the bald guy in the wheelchair, smiling. Was that the owner? Was that how my dad met these people?

I suddenly remembered where I had seen Raven before. She was in the article, too, in the background behind my dad. She had a large smile on her face like she had accomplished something big. Maybe they all had. I still wasn't sure.

But that didn't mean I wasn't excited about what I was going to see.

"Is my dad still here?" I asked.

Raven shrugged. "Not sure. But, if he said to your mom he was heading to Westchester, this is probably where he was going."

Chapter Text

When Raven unlocked the mansion, I thought I might go crazy with anticipation and excitement.

While the inside was very old and dirty, it was still the most expensive house I had ever seen. And I had visited DC before. The foyer had a very large set of stairs leading to the second floor and a massive chandelier hung down from the ceiling. The floor was nothing to ignore either. It was smooth stone tile with a large X in the center. I wondered what it stood for, but didn't bother asking.

The Davenports were distracting me a bit anyways.

Bree promptly sped around the entire house with a whoosh, ending back in the foyer with a large grin on her face. The looks on Raven and Logan's faces were almost as priceless in reaction to her bionics.

"This place is so cool!" Bree squealed. She balled her fists and shook them excitedly. "Like, cooler than Mr. Davenport's house! And his house is the coolest I've ever been in!"

Logan and Raven exchanged a look.

"She remind you of anyone?" Logan asked pointedly.

"Oh yeah," Raven replied, looking Bree over with a smirk. "I think they'd get along great."

"Who?" Chase asked, walking up behind me.

"You'll see."

We followed the two adults down one of the many hallways. Pictures and paintings hung on the walls and I couldn't help but look at them as I passed. There were images of a young boy with brown hair and an even younger girl with blonde hair. I guessed that it was Raven and her brother. But did Raven actually live here? If she lived here, why was it sitting abandoned, especially when she had a key to it?

My guess was that something bad happened that gave her bad memories of this place.

One of the pictures in particular caught my eye. There was an image of a group of weird-looking people, and something about it warmed my heart. I stopped in front of it and examined it.

There was Raven in her blue form, Logan with his claws extended and his beard and hair neatly combed and trimmed. There was the bald, paralyzed man again and standing behind him was a girl with a short white Mohawk and dark skin, a large smile plastered on her face. Standing to the left of her was a man with weird-looking glasses. Instead of two lenses, there was just a big bar across his eyes. A redheaded girl and a guy with silver hair and goggles were there as well.

The next two people were the ones that caught my eye. One was a man with solid yellow eyes, pointed ears, short black hair, dark blue skin like Raven's and a tail---yes, a tail. He had three fingers instead of five and massive fangs protruded from his mouth. The other was also blue, but he was massive and covered in blue fur, but his hair looked normal shape-wise despite the blue color.

There was something about his eyes, though. Like I had seen them before.

All of the people in the photo---minus the man in the wheelchair---wore the same uniform: A black pantsuit with a yellow X stretching across their chests and over their shoulders. Was this what Raven meant by there being a team?

Chase was beside me in a moment and his eyes trained on the painting. He examined it closely and then looked at me.

"Do you see your dad?" he asked with a smile.

Shocked, I turned my attention back to the picture. I tried to figure out which of these people could be my father, and then my eyes found the man with the blue fur again. There was something about his eyes . . .

No way.

"Yep," Raven confirmed. "That's Hank. More specifically, that's his mutant form."

"Awesome!" Adam exclaimed. "Abby, he turns into an animal like you!"

"I would have thought that her dad was this guy," Leo put in, pointing to the man with the tail. "Y'know, because he has a tail and all."

Raven's face turned a bright red and she averted her eyes. Logan sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"That's Kurt Wagner," he explained. "It's Raven's son."

"Who's his dad?" I asked.

"Azazel," Raven said. "My ex husband."

"Long story," Logan sighed.

But I couldn't help but train my eyes on my father. I studied every curve and sharp edge of his face, every flaw and perfection. In his eyes, I saw my own. Not by color, by personality and soul. I found my hand reaching out to touch the image of his face, brushing the surface of the picture ever so slightly. A tear began to roll down my cheek. Would I ever get to see him?

Chase placed a hand on my shoulder. "We'll find him."

We continued to walk down the hallway and came upon what appeared to be an elevator. Logan stepped forward and pushed the button, waiting. It wasn't too long before the door slid open and we all walked inside. It was a silver elevator, which wasn't what I was used to. Way too fancy for someone like me to stand in it.

And on top of all that, I thought Adam might jump out of his skin in excitement. I swear, he was such a child.

The elevator slowed to a stop and the door slid open, revealing a dark corridor. Raven stepped forward first and hit a button on the wall, turning on the lights. It was a long, metal hallway. What was it with this house and hallways? I guessed it was because of the size, but good grief. There had to be some sort of world record that was broken at this point. World's First House With Eight Million Hallways, or some other crap.

We all hesitantly followed her and I grabbed for Chase's hand for reassurance. He took it gladly and gave it a comforting squeeze. At least I had these guys with me along the way.

There was no telling what would happen if I ran into my dad here.

When we came upon another set of doors, my heart began to pound. Who would we see? My dad? One of the other people in the painting?

They pushed the doors open and we stepped inside. The lights were already on. Someone was here.

But it wasn't a regular room.

It was a weird, blue dome with a bridge leading to a platform in the center. There was someone on the platform. Someone in a wheelchair with a weird helmet on.

"It's about time you got here," the man said, his wheelchair turning around slowly to reveal the bald man from the picture.

The same man who was seen in the article with my dad.

"Who are you?" Bree challenged. "And how did you know we were coming?"

"Yeah, who are you, bro?" Adam added, crossing his arms.

The bald man smiled. "There's quite a lot that you don't know, Adam Davenport."

Adam's jaw dropped. "Okay that's just freaky."

I had to admit he was right. How did this random British man know our names already?

The bald man lifted the helmet from his head and placed it on the desk behind him. He looked us over like he knew everything about us. And he probably did, but I didn't know how.

You will see soon enough.

I stumbled backward a bit and gripped Chase's shoulder, my eyes wide. I heard the man's voice in my mind, but I wasn't sure how. Was I going crazy?

One look at the others told me that they heard it too.

What had we walked into?

"Guys, this is Charles Xavier, also known as Professor X," Raven said, gesturing to the man. "My brother."

"Trust me," Logan began, "if anyone can find your dad, Abby, it's him."

Charles pushed a button on his wheelchair and he started rolling towards us, his face serene and kind. Something in his eyes spoke of great intelligence. But something else told of great power. I had to keep my guard up around him.

"Don't worry, Abigail McCoy," he said to me. "I will find your father."

Chapter Text

I could tell that we were getting serious about this now. We were all sitting around in Charles's massive office, Chase, Bree and I on the couch and Leo and Adam on the floor in front of us. Charles was wheeled behind his desk and Logan and Raven sat in two different chairs opposite us.

I couldn't help but feel a little worried about this. Who wouldn't? And you guys might call me crazy or whatever, but I don't care. The conversation wasn't exactly going where I thought it was going to go.

Apparently, Charles and the others had been searching for my dad for a while, but had come up with nothing, which made Chase and I suspect that something else was going on. Logan and Raven had picked up on that too, mentioning that even using Cerebro---the machine we saw Charles using in the big, blue dome room---he wasn't able to find my dad, which was strange because using Cerebro he was able to see every single person on the earth at once because it amplified his telepathic abilities.

Chase suggested that maybe my dad was using something that blocked the machine, and Charles had suggested that was possible, but he didn't know how it would be without something like Magneto's helmet---

"Hold up, pause," I jumped in, stopping everyone else in their tracks. "Who is Magneto?"

The three mutants looked at each other like they had said something they shouldn't have, which instantly triggered my suspicions. What on earth did they have to hide? And why were they hiding it, whatever it was?

"He's another mutant," Logan said finally, sighing in defeat.

"Wait, just how many of you guys are there?" Leo asked, his eyes growing wide. "I thought the picture was it, except for Abby."

"Mutants are about as numerous as gingers, maybe a little more common," Raven explained, re-tying her ponytail and wincing as she pulled a strand of hair a little too hard.

"Oh, so there are like millions of you guys," Bree finished, frowning in an impressed way. "Adam, Chase and I are the only living people with bionics."

"Explain to me how that works again," Charles urged, leaning forward and clasping his hands on his desk as if he were deep into a debate.

Chase took him through a brief explanation that the other Davenports and I had heard thousands of times. I almost asked why Charles didn't just read his mind to figure it out, but I guessed he just enjoyed speaking to people more than just busting into their brains whenever he wanted to. He was probably just polite like that. Weren't all British people super polite? I mean, I don't know, since he's the first Brit I've ever met, so . . .

"How very fascinating," Charles breathed with a smile. "It's a wonder that your father managed to do that without hurting your body permanently."

Chase clenched his jaw, but said nothing. I knew he didn't want to go over the truth of that statement and into the ordeal with Douglas and Donald, and honestly I wouldn't either. Adam, Bree and Leo all seemed equally uncomfortable at what Charles said.

And it looked like Mr. Xavier was getting his own answers to why we were all making faces.

His brow was ruffled in concentration and then relaxed with understanding. I didn't like how he could just figure us out like that. Mutants were so unfair.

Then again, you are one, I reminded myself. You're kind of unfair to the rest of the world.

Thankfully, the guy didn't talk about what he figured out. Could he tell what was private and what wasn't? Okay, that was pretty cool.

Logan loudly cleared his throat. "Anyways.

"Magneto's real name is Erik Lehnsherr," he explained, flexing his knuckles as if remembering something. "He goes by Magneto because his mutation is that he can control anything that's metal, including---" he held up his right hand--- "my claws. Or anything else in my body."

I blinked in shock. "Sorry, what?"

"Long story short, I've got metal bones now," he said gruffly. "'Nuff said."

I got the message. Quite frankly, I didn't want to throw up after hearing the rest of the story. I was already getting a tad light-headed from the random revelation I was just dropped with.

Chase snapped his fingers with understanding. "He's the guy who attacked us!"

After a barrage of questions from Raven and Logan, Chase went into an explanation of what happened to us on the street with the bench and a car getting thrown at us. I couldn't help but blush when I remembered Chase throwing his body on top of mine to protect me. I shook the thought out of my mind. Not now.

The three mutants looked at each other again and then returned their attention to us.

"You guys know something and aren't telling us," I snapped. "Spill."

Logan grinned wickedly. "Just like her father."

"There is a possibility that Erik and your father could be working together," Charles said plainly.

"What?"

"It would explain why you were his target," Chase told me grimly.

"Oh, so your dad's a murderer?" Adam jumped in. "That's awesome but also not awesome at the same time!"

"Adam, I think you need to keep some things to yourself," Leo said, patting his shoulder.

But I barely heard Leo's words of encouragement. The only thing I could think about was the fact that my dad---my own father---could be working with the same man that tried to kill us. It was terrible, everything I didn't want all at once. Why would he want to kill his own daughter? Did he really hate my family that much? To leave us and also try to wipe out his past in the form of killing his children?

Horror struck me. What about Landon? Mom didn't have a way to protect him from mutants back home.

He could die.

"Your father is not a murderer," Charles said defensively. "I've known him for decades, he wouldn't do such a thing, especially not his daughter."

"But you just said that he was working with Erik," I reminded him, fighting tears.

Chase grabbed my hand to reassure me. "It'll be okay," he whispered.

I hoped he was right.

"I did say that, yes," Charles admitted. "But there is another thing: Erik has always had the plan for mutants to be on top of the food chain---above normal humans. While he and your father may be working together, Erik might also be doing something behind his back because Hank doesn't want to conform to his ideals. And what's the best way to blackmail someone?"

"Get to their family," Logan growled, as if something similar had happened to him in the past. "It's the most disgusting thing a person could do."

"Odds are that your dad doesn't want to do things Erik's way and Erik is trying to rattle his cage," Raven finished. "But, the thing with Erik is that he'll get you to think that he's on your side and then flip it around and trick you again. He did it with me."

"So how do we find Abby's dad?" Bree asked, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows. "I feel like we're kinda wasting time here. We don't have all year."

"You're right," Charles acknowledged. Something whirred and then he rolled out from behind the desk in his automatic wheelchair. "We can use Cerebro again."

"I thought you said that didn't work, Charles," Raven reminded him, giving him a suspicious look.

"Yes, but Erik only has one helmet."

Understanding passed between them, leaving us confused yet again. I hated it when they did that. It was like they were the only ones in the room or something.

"Clue us in, please," I snapped.

Logan looked to me and sighed. "Erik has a helmet that blocks Charles's telepathy. He wears it on occasion to keep eyes off him in Cerebro. If Hank is using the helmet and he's working with Erik, then Erik will be exposed."

"And then we can find my dad by finding Erik," I finished.

I couldn't believe we were actually getting somewhere. I almost jumped for joy.

Chapter Text

I was beyond nervous about this.

Charles had suggested that I be put outside of the mansion as bait for Magneto, since he seemed to be following me, and the only person who was really excited about it was Adam---of course. He had a huge grin on his face and was just about to jump out of his pants.

"It's just like a movie!" he exclaimed, clapping. "This is gonna be so cool!"

Chase's expression was grim. "I don't like it," he said. "What if something happened to Abby?"

"We would be right around the corner prepared to help her," Charles assured him, wheeling toward his bookshelf and looking it over. He picked up a book. "It's not like we'd let her face Erik alone. That would be suicidal."

"The only person that could face Erik alone would either be Charles or Erik's son, Peter," Raven said, placing her hands on her hips. "Peter would be too fast for Erik to see and Charles could just attack Erik with his mind if he didn't have the helmet on."

"All it takes is one thought and your girl is saved," Logan added with a thumbs up at Chase. "Charles isn't an idiot."

And none of us thought that he was an idiot, we just hated the idea. But, what use was there fighting against a guy who could stop us from moving with just a thought? That wouldn't help anything, and if anything at all it would just impede progress. By a lot, depending on how much we ticked the guy off.

I stood in the middle of the courtyard in front of the house as everyone else made their way around the corner. A sense of dread overcame me and I suddenly didn't want to do it anymore. But what other plan did we have?

Chase hesitated for a moment before turning back and running up to me, pulling me into a tight hug. I hugged him back and inhaled as I squeezed him, and he did the same. We stayed like that for a second until he let go and offered a small smile.

"Stay safe, okay?"

I nodded. "Obviously."

As Chase ran back over to the others, I couldn't help but question everything I was feeling. Something about that hug felt so tender, so final.

So familiar.

Marcus had hugged me the same way. How could I ever forget that? The tenderness, the urgency, everything about it. It made my heart flutter thinking about him again. But I couldn't let that distract me at this moment. I needed to focus on the task laid out in front of me.

I definitely need to look into robotics construction when I get back home.

Pushing the thought away, I tried my best to look natural. Charles would be on stand bye in case anything went sideways, and the others were just backup in case Erik actually brought his helmet. That would be a bad thing, in case you can't tell. Imagine the most powerful telepath in the world rendered useless by some costume headpiece. It was almost laughable, if you think about it, but of course it wasn't supposed to be.

I couldn't help laughing while thinking about the arguments that would have caused when the two of them worked together.

But my laughing came to an abrupt stop when I heard the leaves behind me crunch.

I whirled around and scanned the landscape to see if I could pinpoint the source of the sound, my hyper-sensitive hearing working on overdrive. There was a tree a little far off to the right that caught my attention. I could have sworn I saw something shiny glint behind it.

I decided to ignore every instinct within me that was screaming for me to go and check it out---beat up whoever was back there. I hated my cockiness sometimes. There was no way I could take a man who could control metal in a fight. He could probably turn my own glasses against me as a murder weapon if he wanted to.

Right as I was thinking that, the lamppost almost directly across from me tipped toward me, ripping up its foundation from the concrete. I screamed and dashed out of the way, ducking instinctively as I felt the ground tremble with its crash. He was here.

I whirled around and readied my powers, trying to pinpoint where the heck this guy was. My heart was pounding inside of my chest, making it very difficult for me to concentrate on anything other than dying.

"Come on, Charles," I murmured. "Work with me here."

A shadow covered me and I looked up to see yet another metal bench getting hurled at me from seemingly nowhere. I barely managed to dodge as it collided with the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt. Well, now Xavier's lawn was ruined. Great. Just great.

Okay, so more likely than not, Erik has his helmet, I thought. Wonderful.

Without further hesitation, I tore my glasses off and transformed, snarling at my unseen attacker. With claws drawn, I charged at the first sign of movement and tore around the side of the tree. Why was a mutant this powerful hiding from us?

With my teeth bared, I was shocked to find---

Nothing. He wasn't there.

Something hard and metal hit the back of my head, sending stars across my vision and pain rocketing through my skull. I collapsed and hit the ground, breathing hard and trying to shake myself back into consciousness as it was fading. I couldn't pass out. Not now.

The sound of pounding footsteps and shouting was heard from behind me as a set of shoes stepped into my vision. I strained to look up and I saw a tall man looking down at me with a gloating smirk.

"You're just like your father," he said smugly. "He never knew when to give up either."

I snarled and swiped at his leg, making contact and feeling the skin tear underneath my claws. He yowled in pain and . . . flew away? Or, at least he started to.

Before Bree sped up behind him and knocked him on the back of his head with a metal crowbar she had found somewhere. Apparently it hit him so hard that he staggered backward and collapsed, his metal helmet falling off. Bree sped up to it and grabbed it, holding it triumphantly above her head.

I stumbled to my feet and leaned against the tree for balance. I hadn't expected to get hit in the head with something metal. It really hurt a lot.

Chase was beside me in an instant and asking me question after question about if I was okay, where I was hurt, etc. I kept telling him it was fine and that I just needed a second but he insisted that Adam go grab the park bench that Erik had thrown and bring it over for me to sit on.

Adam did and practically skipped all the way over to me and placed the bench down where I could sit on it.

I was still in shock with everything that happened.

Had we really won that easily?

Erik was standing, looking rather upset. I guess he hadn't anticipated the bionic kids that would have joined the fight as well.

"Charles," he snarled, "what is the meaning of this?"

Charles wheeled up to him and looked at him indignantly. "I could ask you the same question, Erik."

"And why would I have to explain that to you?"

"Because you're teaming up with my dad," I snapped. "And I would like to know where he is."

Chapter Text

Getting Erik back into the mansion was easy. We just let Charles take care of that. All he had to do was think about what he wanted Erik to do and boom. He did it. Easy as pie.

The only problem was that Erik was determined to not tell us anything despite Charles and his ability to read minds. He was finding ways to push back against him by thinking about something else whenever we asked him a question and talking about that so his mind would divert and throw Charles off.

And it was clear that Charles wasn't the only one getting frustrated with this. Raven had begun to work her jaw and Logan was flexing his fists, clearly contemplating whether or not he should stab Erik.

And I was deciding whether or not I should strangle the guy.

"We will ask you again, Erik," Charles said. "Where is Hank McCoy?"

Erik looked at him and smiled. "I really love the rustic look you've done with the place, Charles. It certainly is a really good choice."

That was the last straw for me. I leaped forward and transformed in an instant, wrapping my hands around the guy's throat. Anger boiled inside me like I had plopped an egg in a pot of hot water. I don't think I had ever been that angry before, and it honestly scared me.

Apparently, it scared the others too because I felt a hand on my shoulder as I stared into Erik's horrified blue eyes. One glance back told me I had gone too far because it was Logan trying to get me to calm down. Of all people, it was Logan. Considering what I had gathered from his personality, he would be totally okay with something like this, especially from a guy with claws coming out of his knuckles.

It was then I noticed the vice grip I had on Erik's shoulders; so bad, in fact, that my claws were beginning to dig into his skin through the shirt and draw blood. His gray shirt was slowly getting stained a darker color from the spurts of blood that were appearing from the puncture wounds my claws were leaving.

Oh boy.

I let go of Erik and stumbled backward. Chase caught me by my arms and held me firmly but gently as I slowly shifted back into my human form. How embarrassing could things get from here?

"You're okay," Chase whispered. "That was just a little crazy, I have to admit."

"I know," I mumbled back. "He was just getting on my last nerve."

"I understand."

But did he? Did he actually know what I meant when I said that? Chase always had his dad, even though it wasn't really his father. He always had someone. The only time he ever had anyone to make the loss of your dad a joke was when Douglas was taunting them the day Marcus died. I'd never had my father with me and Erik was making us looking for him a game.

To say I was enraged would be an understatement.

But I didn't press the issue. Chase wouldn't understand, he never would. He wasn't like Marcus. Marcus would know what I meant.

Erik cleared his throat and examined the new wounds on his shoulder, frowning. He shot me a glare and then turned back to Charles.

"She really is just like her father, isn't she?" he said, amused. "Except she turns into an actual animal and he was just a big blue ape."

"Watch it," Raven warned, gripping her biceps as she crossed her arms. "She's not the only one who cares about Hank here."

"Right, of course," Erik chuckled. "I knew that."

"Spit it out, Metal Head," Logan snarled, balling his fists. "Where's her dad?"

Erik gave Logan a once-over. "You're one to talk for calling me a 'metal head', considering all of the stuff that's inside of your body right now."

That made me uncomfortable. I had no idea what that meant, but it was ominous. What on earth did Logan have going on with his body? And why on earth did it seem like everyone was keeping secrets from me? Whatever it was, it seemed to have struck a nerve with Logan, because all of his muscles were tense and he was looking a tad more defensive than normal.

After a bit of interrogating, we managed to glean some information from Erik, but not much. We found out that Erik was helping my dad look for something, but he wouldn't tell us what that was. If it was serious enough that my dad had to hide and run away from his family, then I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

I was getting impatient. We needed a location, but the guy wasn't giving us one and it didn't help that he did, in fact, confirm that my dad had his helmet, meaning that Charles couldn't reach him with Cerebro. I still wasn't even sure how Cerebro worked, but it was something I would need to look into. I didn't know if I could trust these guys. Still.

Adam, Bree, Chase and Leo started looking at each other and having a conversation with their eyes. I didn't know why they were communicating without me, but that was definitely hurtful. What were they talking about that was so important to keep from me? Not cool.

I elbowed Bree. "What's going on?" I hissed.

She grinned at me. "We're coming up with a plan."

"Without talking? How does that work?"

"Just watch."

Chase stepped forward, as if on cue and touched his temple, looking directly into Erik's eyes. I knew that look. He was scanning Erik. Why? What was he doing? What needed scanning?

Erik stared up at him with a look of apprehension. Clearly, he still wasn't comfortable with the idea that non-mutants were able to have powers as well, and honestly I can't say that I blame him. If you think about it, bionics are pretty freaky. It's like the Borg from Star Trek except that they don't take over your mind and body all the way.

Okay, I definitely shouldn't have thought about that, because now I am very freaked out.

Chase finally leaned back and sighed, placing his hands on his hips. He looked back at his older brother.

"Adam," he began, gesturing to Erik, "aim for his right side."

Knuckles popped as Adam prepared to strike. His eyes were so gleeful, but it wasn't the scary kind of glee. It really just looked like he had discovered a punching back for the first time and was excited to test it out. Cue the bells, because this guy's getting ready to rumble.

Adam lunged forward, but not before Erik curled inward defensively and reached outward with his hand, pulling a metal floor lamp forward with his mind. It collided with Adam and pinned him against the wall, buckling against its weight and force. Bree didn't miss a beat and sped forward, hitting the spot Chase specified, causing Erik to howl in pain and release Adam, the lamp clattering to the floor.

I have to say. I was very impressed.

Bree stood over Erik with a smirk. "Misdirection," she said proudly. "Works every time."

Charles, Logan and Raven all had different reactions. Charles looked fascinated, Logan looked lowkey impressed and Raven looked as if she was having war flashbacks. Honestly, considering the fact that these guys were basically superheroes, I wouldn't be surprised if she was having a war flashback.

Erik groaned, clutching his side. "Alright," he sighed. "I'll tell you what you need to know."

My ears perked. Was he being serious?

He now had our attention. We were practically sitting on the edge of our seats in anticipation even though we didn't have any seats.

"Henry McCoy is still in New York," he said. "But he's wearing the helmet because he doesn't want to be followed."

"Well, gee thanks," Leo scoffed. "We already gathered that much, big guy."

Erik glared at him. "Let me finish."

Leo held his hands up in surrender and conceded.

"As I was saying, he is in New York. He's trying to gather the old crew together."

"Why?" Raven asked.

"Because someone's hunting us," Erik said. "They're looking for mutants to study us, poke and prod at us in labs. Hank is hoping to stop them, but first he needs to save the other mutants."

"And how is he going to do that without me and Cerebro?" Charles asked.

"There's another Cerebro and you're not the only telepath in the world, Charles."

A stunned silence settled in the room. This guy had to be lying. What basis did we have to trust him? I'll give the short answer: NONE. He literally tried to kill me. Twice. What on earth did this idiot have against me? He didn't even know I existed until . . .

He knew about me.

That was probably the worst realization I had ever had. Erik knew about me. That's why he knew to target me. And he spoke about me as if my dad had told him stories about me and my brother when we were little. That warmed my heart a bit. My dad was talking about me. But if he still cared about me that much, then why was he trying to keep me from following him?

Charles had apparently read my mind, because then he was the next person to answer.

"You're an unregistered mutant, Abby," he told me, looking at me intently. "There are hundreds of unregistered mutants around the world. But we are registered. The government knows about us, but the world does not. Many years ago, the world sought to erase us after a catastrophe struck Egypt. It was one of the hardest moments of our lives. All of the humans were in danger, and after that moment, the people slowly started to forget about us until there was no trace of us left."

"All of that hope," Erik murmured, "of getting accepted by society lost. And for what? Just to be hunted all over again?"

The Davenports looked at me. I was frozen in place. None of this could be true. This had to be a nightmare. Why couldn't I wake up?

But deep down, I knew that this was the reality of it all. This was the reason that I couldn't find anything on my dad on the internet, or anything hardly at all. It was because my dad was labeled a freak and the government didn't want anything to do with freaks.

Anger boiled inside me. After all of this was over, I was going to make the world remember us.

Chapter Text

When we went to sleep that night, we slept in the giant mansion rather than back at the hotel. Charles had sent Logan back to the hotel to get our stuff and had Raven direct us to our rooms. I couldn't help but think about everything that happened not to long before, especially the information that Erik had given us.

Mutants were actually being hunted. And I was one of them.

The thing was, I knew that I wasn't registered, but my dad was. I'm not entirely sure what happened in Egypt that made people so afraid of mutants, but whatever it was, it had to be huge. Big enough to wipe all information of mutants off the web and the global news.

That was what confused me. Wiping all articles, news stations and even archives of information on mutants was a long, grueling process. There had to be a large group in charge of doing such a thing, either that or some programmer who used a master key or something to take everything out at once, but that would take years of work, not something that could be done in such short time, according to Erik.

What I was curious about was why Charles hadn't figured it out. The dude was a super powerful telepath, he could pretty much read the minds of all of the people in the world using Cerebro, so why the heck had he not figured it out yet?

Maybe the people who did it had something like Erik's helmet, I reasoned. But what?

I eyed Chase as we made our way down the endless hallways and he met my gaze with understanding. We would need to discuss. As a group. Without the other mutants.

The only problem was doing that without Charles overhearing everything. We would cross that bridge when we got to it.

"You've got that look on your face again," Chase mumbled, giving me a knowing look.

I rolled my eyes. "Right. And what do you know about 'that look'?"

"I know it's your scheming look."

I smirked. "Hm, you know me a little too well, Davenport."

He winked at me. "That's my job."

Bree, Leo and Adam were all in front of us, following Raven closely. Part of me wondered why she was leading us so far away from everyone else, but my logic was telling me that she wanted me safe from Magneto. I wasn't sure how on earth they were going to keep him from breaking everything metal he felt around him, but something told me that he wanted to be there.

And that was the most chilling thing about this entire place.

Chase nudged me in my arm, sensing my discomfort. "Tell me what's up."

I sighed. "I can't be the only one thinking about Erik, can I?"

"How do you mean?"

"He got captured too easily. The dude can control metal. Charles's wheelchair is made of metal. And he came here without his helmet. His helmet is with my dad, right? Something tells me that these guys know something that they're not telling us."

Chase clenched his jaw, deep in though. "You may be right."

I groaned. "I hate it when you agree with me like that." Rubbing my forehead, I looked up at him. "No counter-argument? Really?"

"Nope."

"Well that just makes me feel worse."

"That's my job."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Can you guys stop flirting?" Raven snapped, turning her head back to us, her eyes narrowed.

My face heated with embarrassment. One small glance at Chase told me that he felt the same. Why on earth would Raven bring something like that up? It was ridiculous. I didn't feel that way for Chase and . . .

Crud, he might think I'm really flirting.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't think I would be able to look at Chase the same way anymore. At least not for a hot minute.

Raven finally stopped us in front of a door, waiting patiently for the rest of us to gather around more closely. Looking her over again, I couldn't help but be suspicious. I guess it was just part of my nature to be cautious of people, but after that whole betrayal from Marcus and the new possibility of getting betrayed by these guys, I guess you could say that my concern was not unwarranted.

"Alright," Raven snapped, placing her hands on her hips and flashing her blue eyes at us. "No funny business, got it?"

"What makes you think we'd give you any funny or business?" Adam countered, looking proud of himself.

Raven stared at him blankly and Chase and I looked at each other, trying not to laugh. Bree and Leo just looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Raven sighed. "All of my years in this place and I can never count the amount of strong men with no brains that pass through here."

She walked away, mumbling under her breath as she went. I watched her go, careful to catch every small detail. My eyes took note of her gait and posture, her unsure hand fiddling and the like.

I jerked my head at everyone else. "Inside. Now."

I didn't know what I was thinking, but I did know that Raven was rubbing me the wrong way. She didn't give me a safe feeling like Charles did. I hated to admit it, but she reminded me of Douglas. There had to be something that she was hiding.

Thinking about Douglas made me think of Marcus, and I had a hard time focusing when we all went to pick out our beds in the room. I could still see him smile at me, his eyes gleaming and bright with every positive emotion you could imagine.

I missed him.

I sank down on my bed, a single tear rolling down my face. The bed shifted and I looked over to see Bree sitting next to me.

"You okay?"

I shook my head.

She pulled me in for a hug, rubbing my back. We just sat there for a moment, letting a silent understanding pass between us. After a moment, we broke apart.

"You loved him, didn't you?" She asked me.

I shrugged. "I don't know. But if this is what love feels like, I hate it. It hurts too much."

Bree nodded, leaving me so I could think things over for myself. I wasn't sure if anything could get better. My dad was so close yet so far and Marcus was dead. I had my friends, but this was probably the most pain I had ever felt in my life.

Chapter Text

Waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of something breaking was not on my bucket list for looking for my dad.

It started with a tremor; a slow jolting and rattle. And then it progressed into the sound of forty-five knives and forks clattering down on top of a giant megaphone. Did that make sense at all? No, no it didn't. Nevertheless, it scared the crap out of me and almost made me pee my pants. What shocked me even more was that the others were still asleep after that.

I bolted upright in bed and glanced around frantically, my mind immediately waking me up to the potential danger. I scanned the surrounding area to see that Adam, Bree, Chase, and Leo were all still in bed, snoozing away. How on earth do they survive on a daily basis? It's not like their lives are all noise-free in any way, shape, or form. Quite the opposite, actually. Especially with Adam as their oldest brother.

The entire family was weird, but in a good way.

I gingerly crept out of bed, my skin tinging with anticipation and fear. Everyone else was either snoring or breathing peacefully with sleep, so I didn't want to disturb them with my antics---if you could even call them that. I was naturally a night owl from all the times I snuck out of the house, but I never appreciated being awoken from a perfectly peaceful beauty rest. Like, bro, come on, I did my skincare routine and everything. Leave me alone until like ten, okay?

I closed the door behind me, every ounce of sleepiness leaving me the moment I was alone in the hallway. I needed to be completely alert in order to be able to protect myself, should I need to. Luckily, I had mastered this ability when my mom and I were still at odds with each other. She could get so angry randomly in the middle of the night that I would need to guard my face at any given moment.

Praise God she cooled down. Unfortunately it took me literally getting shot, but you know what? If that was the wake-up call she needed, then I'm glad it happened. At least now my little brother won't have such a nightmarish life.

The darkness stretched along the hallway, giving me a sense of being watched. My ears perked, painfully aware of the static of silence. The air seemed to press in around me as I walked down the hall---barefoot, I might add. Probably not the best decision, but there's no going back at this point.

I don't remember how long I was walking for, but I do remember coming upon a light that stretched across the hall from around a corner, swaying back and forth steadily. Someone was walking by. I glanced around frantically, trying to pinpoint a place to hide, but coming up short of everything except for a single door to my left. I tried my best to rush inside and close it quietly, leaving a crack large enough to see who would walk by.

My heart pounded as I peered through the small hole. A heavy breathing emanated from the person, as if he was out of breath. His footsteps landed heavily on the floor as he passed by. I waited patiently as the light moved past, holding my breath to keep myself hidden. He was heading in the direction of our room.

I crept out of my hiding place, walking toe-to-heel to mask my footsteps. Should I follow him?

Before I even had time to answer that question for myself, I found myself tailing him. Something about the way he walked heavily on his feet and swayed when he walked felt so familiar. My heart was pounding so loudly in my head with anticipation that I almost missed the small breeze on my back from someone following me.

I whirled around, clapping my hand over the person's mouth before they had a chance to even gasp; I didn't want them to give me away. I landed a swift punch to their gut, leaving them bending over, letting out a small breath of air as the wind was knocked out of them.

Then I realized who it was.

"Chase?" I whispered. "Why are you outside?"

"I . . . was . . . following . . . you," he gasped. "Ouch."

"Sorry."

Once he regained his posture, we looked at each other for a moment. His hair was disheveled---at least from what I could see in the dim light. By the looks of it, he left our room not too much after me. He most-likely heard the crash as well. He also had enhanced hearing, so why wouldn't he?

The real question was what made the noise in the first place.

And that was when we heard it again. The sound of a thousand metal pieces clattering against each other before falling to the floor in a heap. One small glance exchanged between each other was all we needed before disregarding all of our stealth and running in the direction of the noise. Our feet pounded on the hard wood floor, echoing around the large space. One more turn to the right . . .

Three flashlights blinded us, making us screech to a halt. Blinking the spots out of my vision, I saw Raven, Charles and one more guy I didn't recognize with silver hair, a leather jacket and black jeans. Wait, no I knew this guy. He was in the picture on the wall with the rest of the X-Men.

"What are you guys doing up?" Raven snapped. "Go back to bed."

Charles gave her a stern look. "They're children, Raven. Let them alone."

"I was a kid, too, once. Doesn't mean I acted like them."

"I don't have time for this crap," I groaned. "What the heck was that crash? And who the heck is this E-boy?"

The guy with the silver hair looked halfway between offended and impressed. "Hi, I'm Peter," he said finally. "Not an E-boy. This is just my hair."

"What?"

"You guys heard the first crash?" Raven interrupted, a look of surprise painted on her face.

Chase blinked confusedly. "Yeah. Why?"

"Because it was in the basement. Three floors below us."

Ice slid down my spine at that statement. I had no explanation for that. I knew my hearing was enhanced, but I didn't know that it was that good. Chase looked equally surprised. He had good hearing as well because of his bionics, but he had to actively focus to be able to hear that well. What was going on?

Charles sighed. "Regardless of what they heard, it's best they see what's here now." He gestured to the metal pile on the floor.

Except it wasn't a pile. It was arranged metal letters, made from different kitchen utensils bent and shaped into their respective letters. A rather menacing message was spelled out using the DIY alphabet soup:

STOP LOOKING, ABBY

Charles didn't give me any time to process.

"The one downstairs was another message made with the exact same utensils you see before you now," he said grimly. "Except it said 'Stop helping her, Charles.'"

"Totally creepy," Peter chimed in.

"I still don't know where you came from," Raven remarked, giving him a strange look as she directed her flashlight at him.

"You aren't used to me just showing up sometimes? Even after this place blew up in '83?"

"Guys, shut up," I snapped, turning away from them swiftly.

Chase noticed my discomfort and placed his arm protectively over my shoulders, leaning in to whisper so the others couldn't hear. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't answer him. And how on earth would I ever have been able to? The message couldn't have been any more clear to me:

My dad didn't want me to look for him.

Chapter Text

We had Mr. Davenport call ahead and tell the school that the whole family had gotten sick, including me. He even forged a doctor's note for us so that we could stay longer and search. Yes, I made sure to tell my mom that I was staying over text. She was surprisingly understanding.

"When you find Hank, please tell him I love him," she said over the phone. "He's been gone for far too long."

"I'll do my best, Mom," I replied, gripping my phone tightly. I refrained from telling her about the metal utensil message from the night before. She didn't need to hear about those foreboding messages.

After I hung up, I made my way back over to the group. We were eating breakfast in the massive dining area, which made my jaw drop the first time I saw it. Everything about this mansion was freaking incredible.

Adam looked like he had woken up from a trillion-year nap with his messy hair and tired eyes. To be fair, he always sleeps in no matter the situation. But that didn't stop Logan from making a few snide remarks. "Do all of your team members just sleep?" he scoffed. "Or is it just this guy?"

I was about to say something back when Chase pinched my arm. That was usually his unspoken way of saying "Ignore", so I caught his hint and bit my tongue. Logan looked like he could beat me up, and he did say something about being metal on the inside, so that was great.

Raven stepped around the corner with our new recruit, Peter Maximoff, who apparently had the same ability as Bree, but ten times more powerful. He ran a hand through his bluish-silver hair and straightened his leather jacket. He had on a Rush T-shirt. Vintage. Never knew anyone his age to be interested in Rush of all bands. I noted the goggles perched on top of his head. Odd accessory.

He walked over to us and planted himself on the couch next to the table, lounging like he had lived here his whole life. He had made a point earlier to show us his picture on the wall that we saw when we first arrived because of how proud he was. He seemed really chill for the most part, but some things he did got on my nerves . . . a little bit.

"Peter, what are you doing?" Logan snarled, crossing his arms.

Peter threw his hands up. "What? It took me a while to get here. Give me a break."

Raven sighed loudly. "It took you two minutes."

"Same difference."

"Alright, that's enough," Chase butt in. "We need a game plan."

I had never been more grateful for Chase in my life. He was the only one willing to say what we were all thinking---besides Adam, of course. But Adam was barely functioning at the moment. He was battling an oncoming nap with every passing second. He was actively nodding off with his hair still looking like an active rat's nest.

"He's right," Raven replied. She checked the watch on her wrist. "If Charles doesn't show up in the next few minutes, we'll have to start without him."

"Fine with me," Leo piped up, stuffing his face with a big bite of pancake. "I don't want to stop eating."

I couldn't help but agree with Leo for once. The food was so stinking good, it was impossible to think about anything else. I took a bite of my sausage and sighed with pure glee. It was the best-tasting sausage I had ever had in my life.

The sound of a whirring machine brought our attention to the door and we all looked up to see Charles wheeling himself in. He looked like he had the best sleep of his life. He was incredibly refreshed and it honestly looked like his skin was glowing, for grief's sake. How on earth did that happen? It didn't, that was the answer. It must just be some telepath thing.

"Oh, good. You're all here," he said with a smile on his face. I sometimes hated how perfectly British he was.

"Charles, you're late," Raven snapped, plopping herself down in the chair to the right of the head of the table. "You can't keep doing this."

He shot her a hard look before wheeling himself to the head of the table, which had no chair stationed there. I guessed it was intentional because of his wheelchair so it could be accessible. It also ensured that his seat would never be taken.

Catching the hint, Peter stood up from the couch and a whoosh of air was our only hint that he had moved before him appearing across the table from me. I yelped, gripping Chase's arm in surprise. My heart pounded, still trying to process what I had just witnessed. I heard he was faster than Bree, but seeing it in front of me was an entirely new experience. He had a stupid smile on his face when he saw my expression. Oh man, I wanted to punch him so bad, but at the same time he seemed like such a fun person. I would feel bad if I hurt him.

"Alright, let's assess, shall we?" Charles began, addressing the rest of the table.

I looked around at everyone else. Raven and Logan looked like their normal sour selves, Adam had officially snapped awake from his half-sleep, Leo was still stuffing his face with food (he must be going through a growth spurt) and Bree was still staring Shocked at Peter. I mean, I would be too. She had only ever met one other speedster in her life, so it still must be shocking to know that there are others exactly like you out there.

My heart sank at the reminder of Marcus. No matter how hard I tried to forget him or push him aside, he always managed to worm his way back into my thoughts. How on earth had he had such a large effect on my life. It wasn't fair. I couldn't keep going on like this. Especially not while I was supposed to be looking for my dad.

Chase slid his hand into mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. He must've seen my expression. I couldn't help but appreciate him in that moment. I gave him a sweet smile in reply. He returned it gladly.

"So what we do know," Charles continued, "is that Hank is now officially aware of the fact that his daughter is looking for him. To make matters worse, Erik escaped last night, as I'm sure both you and Chase are aware." He gestured to the both of us. "After all, metal utensils don't move on their own, now do they?"

"I still can't get over how crazy that is," Bree said incredulously. "Like, he freaking broke out and then randomly decided to spell out a message with forks and knives. I have never met someone so extra in my life."

"That's not true," Leo interrupted around a mouthful of food. He pointed at her with his fork. "You are aware of who our father is, right?"

"True."

I couldn't help but smile at the fact that he was speaking about Mr. Davenport when he said "our father" and not Douglas. It made my heart swell to know that we were all mutually excluding him from our lives. He was a terrible person.

And he abused Marcus.

The thought made me too angry to focus, so I quickly pushed it away. I needed to lock in.

"Yeah, my dad is like that," Peter piped in suddenly. "Ever since day one, he's been really extra."

All of our heads turned to him in surprise. Erik was Peter's father? How much crazier could this situation get?

"Oh, cool! You have a psychopathic father, too!" Adam jumped in, suddenly entirely awake and aware. "Twins!"

"Anyway," Charles interrupted. I could have sworn I saw a vein popping out of his very bald head. "As I said, we need to come up with a plan. Thankfully, the short amount of time that Erik was out of his cell before leaving allowed me to catch a glimpse into his mind."

"What did you see?" Raven asked, now on the edge of her seat. Logan was listening intently as well.

"I saw a warehouse. It was big and full of different types of machines; some of the machines were in the process of being built." He furrowed his brow. "From what I could tell, it was still in America. Where, though I cannot recall."

"Was there anything that stood out that might reveal a location?" Logan asked, his voice still scratchy from sleep. It made it deeper than it already was, so he was incredibly scary at this time.

Charles rubbed his head as he tried to recall. I couldn't help but hold my breath. This could be the deciding factor of our whole mission. I needed this. I needed an answer.

You could have heard a pin drop with how quiet the room was. The only thing that broke the silence was the low, steady ticking of the grandfather clock across the room. That's how you could tell this guy was rich. Nobody owned a grandfather clock unless you were extremely rich.

No one dared interrupt his thought process. To be honest, I think even Logan was tense when Charles did this. Just how powerful was this guy if the dude with the metal skeleton was afraid of him?

HIs eyes brightened as something came to mind and I straightened in my chair at the same time as him, my heart pounding with anticipation. Chase placed an encouraging hand on my shoulder. This was it.

"I do remember," Charles began, "an emblem, or a logo. On the wall. It was . . . three circles interlocking."

All of the Davenports and myself inhaled sharply at the mention. We knew exactly what that meant.

"Does that mean anything to you guys?" Raven asked, her eyebrow raised in suspicion.

My heart was officially beating out of my chest. This was the biggest plot twist any of us could have encountered at any point. I could feel Chase's tense body beside me. I couldn't look back to see how he took the information, I was too stunned.

"That's the symbol of our father's company," Bree whispered. "They're at a Davenport Industries warehouse."

Chapter Text

I had to take time to myself. After breakfast, while everyone else was gathering their things for the new trip, I excused myself to the balcony on the second floor, overlooking the large courtyard and garden. My mind was swirling with all of the revelations I was just handed. My heart pounded out of my chest and my hands refused to still their shaking.

In a Davenport Industries warehouse. I could almost laugh at the truth. Dad, what are you doing?

Footsteps behind me drew me out of my thoughts and I instinctively straightened my back and cleared my throat. The footsteps paused their approach, but I knew who was there. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to give him the satisfaction of turning around to look at him. Before too long, he made the rest of the way over and took his place next to me, leaning on the railing of the balcony.

I stole a glance at Chase and found the floor with my eyes. Why was he always here? Whenever I was hurt or alone in my own mind he was always there. Like he could sense it or something. Or was he really just that observant?

Something about his posture told me he had a lot on his mind as well. His shoulders were slack as he propped his weight up with his elbows on the railing, clasping his hands together in front of him. His head hung loose as he watched the ground below us, his expression impossible to read. He began to fidget with his hands and I instinctively reached over and put my hand over his, giving it a squeeze to make him stop. His body tensed for a moment before he sighed and relaxed, twisting his hand to intertwine his fingers in mine.

Despite the nagging in the back of my mind that I was leading him on by doing this, I didn't care. Chase was still one of my best friends and he deserved me at my vulnerable moments.

Not a word passed between us, but we understood exactly what the other wanted to say. Somehow, my father had access to Mr. Davenport's building and equipment and he was working with a psychotic mutant with a god complex. I understood that the mutants were being hunted, tracked down by the government, but surely my dad understood that teaming up with a guy who was basically racist against normal people was one of the worst things he could ever do.

Maybe he was being blackmailed like Charles had suggested. After all, he wanted me to stop looking for him. For what? Protection? That was a possibility. But I wasn't about to let my dad go down a path he couldn't return from.

Chase met my eyes and shrugged. "What do you think we should do now?"

I shook my head. "Well, obviously we need to go find the warehouse, and---"

"Not what I meant."

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. He moved to face me, his body extremely close to mine. I didn't step back. I held his gaze confidently despite the urge to cringe away. His expression was stone, but there was something in his eyes that made my heart skip a beat.

"Abby, you can't keep doing this to me," he whispered, his body leaning slightly closer to mine. "You can't just shut me out like this."

I couldn't look at him anymore. I averted my eyes and took a few steps back, my heart racing. I wiped my now-sweaty hands on my shirt and hugged myself. I had never seen this side of him before. It was honestly unsettling, but . . . not bad? I don't know how to describe it. It was so strange.

"Chase, stop," I urged. "I can't think about this right now."

He nodded, suddenly embarrassed. "I know, I . . . I'm sorry, I shouldn't have---"

"No, no. I get it." I reached out to hold his shoulders in a soothing gesture. "It's confusing."

He drew his eyebrows together and blinked a few times. "What do you mean?"

I gathered my thoughts for a moment. Why was it confusing for me? Why did I have a hard time regulating what was going on between us? Was it because I was holding on to Marcus even after his death or was it because I refused to see Chase as anything else than a friend and that was messing with my feelings?

Was I even feeling anything for him at the moment?

I dropped my hands from his shoulders and sighed, taking off my glasses and pinching the bridge of my nose. "There's just so much going on right now, and so many emotions are running through my head and heart that I can't figure out what's real and what's fake."

Chase's expression changed at my words. Almost . . . hopeful. "Something's real, then?"

I froze at his words, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. Maybe he was right, but I didn't want to admit that. "Maybe. I'm not sure."

He slowly walked over to me and reached out with his hands, pausing when they were inches away from mine. He was so stinking close to me. He was doing this on purpose, he had to be. But I didn't protest.

"May I?" he asked gently, his eyes asking dozens of questions that went unspoken.

I gave him a slight nod. He closed the distance and took my glasses out of my right hand, reaching up and slipping one of the arms into the collar of my shirt so they hung there easily. His face was slightly blurry now, so I had to squint to see him.

He shook his head. "If you need to see me, transform."

I did as he said, my body tingling as it made the transition from normal to mutant. My vision cleared and I saw him in full focus. I could see the pink rising in his cheeks from my eyes on his, but I made a point to not draw attention to it. I was, for once, grateful for my animal form. He couldn't see the blush rising in my face.

He let out a chuckle, a smile playing on his lips. "It's just so cool."

I laughed sheepishly. "Yeah, well it's not really---"

I don't know what happened to make him do what he did next, but all I do know is that he was kissing me. Like, actually kissing me. On the lips. And I was too stunned to do anything.

But I also wasn't complaining.

I slipped my hands around the back of his neck and his slid around my waist, coming to a rest at the small of my back. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I could almost swear I could hear his too. It was a gentle, sweet, and unsure kiss. It wasn't anything too much or too little. It was just right. And I loved it.

He pulled me closer to him so that my body was flush against his. I was kissing Chase Davenport. I was doing something I could never have imagined myself---

His eyes and smile flashed from underneath my closed eyes. Startled, I pushed back from Chase and turned away from him, trembling. I tried to shake the thought of him, tried to push him away, but I couldn't. Marcus was there in my mind. He was present again.

Guilt ravaged my body. Somehow I felt I had betrayed him. Somehow, some way I was an awful person and I needed to face the consequences of my actions. I was horrible for doing this, I was so stupid, I---

"What's wrong?"

The sound of Chase's voice yanked me out of my thoughts abruptly. I froze and looked back at him, quickly fixing my expression to be more calm than what it was. I looked into his hurt, shocked eyes for one moment and averted my gaze, transforming back into my human form and slipping on my glasses again. I cleared my throat, trying to keep my hands from trembling.

"I'm sorry--I just--I can't," I stammered. "I can't."

He set his jaw and nodded, looking down. I couldn't tell if he was angry or hurt or a little bit of both. He tugged on his T-shirt and inhaled sharply. "I gotcha. I understand completely."

"No, Chase, I---"

"No, you still love him, Abby." He threw his hands up in surrender and let out a dry chuckle, his eyes glistening with tears threatening to overflow. He was doing his best to hide them, but I could see it. "I can't get in the way of that. I'll leave you alone now."

And so he left me alone. Alone on the balcony, regretting all of the decisions I had ever made.

Chapter Text

After changing into more comfortable clothing, I joined the others in the main lobby for assessment. Chase didn't look at me, which is probably for the best. But nevertheless, it made me feel a whole lot worse than I did. Something about the way he looked at me once out of the corner of his eye and then defaulted to looking straight ahead immediately after stabbed home harder than it should have.

No point in dwelling on it.

Electronic whirring pulled me out of my thoughts and I turned my attention to Charles, who was now wheeling himself into the circle of people. The look on his face was one of serious business. His "game face," you might say. I guessed this was how he was with the X-Men before missions. Raven had given me a rundown of what they did after breakfast. It was honestly kind of interesting. I asked her about my dad, but she said "those are stories he'll need to tell you himself when we get him back."

Gosh, I hope she was right.

He began to speak about the plan, which I took mental note of passively as I studied the people around me. Having a mom who used to be toxic trained me with the ability of splitting my attention between two separate things. I guess you could call it a superpower, but I already had enough of those on my plate.

Peter Maximoff, Magneto's son (which was still insane to me), was fidgeting with the sleeves of his leather jacket, nodding along as if he had heard the plan a thousand times already. I was still stuck on why he needed goggles. He wasn't going swimming or anything. I knew he was a fast dude, but how fast was he?

Raven was locked in completely with what Charles was saying, and so was Logan. Logan looked a bit more tense than she was, but hey. Who am I to judge? I'm probably the most tense person here. We're going to look for my dad for grief's sake.

My team---if you could call us a "team" at all---were all listening intently. Leo had been given the job of "stay in the plane and keep the engine warm in case things go south," which didn't make him too happy, but what can you do when you're the only one here who doesn't have any cool powers?

Everyone else was split into pairs. Adam and Raven were a pair, which was odd to me but I didn't question it. Charles and Chase were a pair, Bree and Peter were a pair, and I was stuck with Logan. I don't typically use the phrase "stuck with" because I like to make the most out of any situation, but Logan wasn't exactly what I pictured as a "team player."

That was when it hit me. Logan and I were the two loners in the group. Everyone else had worked as a team for longer than either of us. Nobody understood lone wolves better than other lone wolves. Dang. That made me cringe. I hate that phrase. I'm not twelve.

". . . are we at an understanding?" Charles asked, looking at each of us.

We all nodded.

"Good. Get in, get Hank, and get out. Try your best not to get tangled up with Magneto and any other potential mutants they could be working with."

We began our trip to the basement where the plane was and anticipation began to build in my body as we passed by the smooth white walls. Logan was in stride with me at a casual pace. His gait was like someone who had seen decades more than anyone else here, seasoned with a roughness that could only be given to you through years and years of hand-on-hand combat. I honestly couldn't help but admire him.

"What are you starin' at?" he growled. Nothing in his words was laced with malice despite how rude it sounded.

I cocked my head at him, pushing my glasses further up my nose. "Were you a street or cage fighter?"

He gave me a hard look but remained silent as we walked. He looked straight ahead. I guessed he was thinking about what he would say to me. I let him do his thing. If he was a street fighter/cage fighter then I didn't want to tick him off. I already didn't because the dude had metal bones and metal twelve-inch claws in his fist, but still. Something about being a street/cage fighter made me a tad more nervous than I thought it would have.

Logan sighed. "Yeah," he said finally. "One of the X-Men actually found me in the middle of one of my cage fights. We didn't know each other and she was just as lost as me."

"What was her name?"

"She called herself Rogue. We haven't seen her in a while." His eyes darkened. "She hasn't been in contact with us."

I fell silent for a moment, measuring my words. "Hasn't Charles tried to find her?"

He shrugged. "There's no point, right? If a mutant doesn't want to be found in today's world then it's best not to look for them."

I gave him a questioning look. "Then why are you helping me look for Dad?"

His large hand rested on my shoulder as we entered the elevator to the basement. His lips twisted into a slight smile, surprising me. I didn't think he was capable of such a thing. This was so out of character for him.

"Cause you're just as lost as I was," he answered, his voice soft. "I wouldn't have made it on my own had Rogue not found me. And yeah, you have these guys---" he gestured to the Davenports "---but when a piece is missing it's hard to settle down until you find it."

I turned the words over in my mind as we stepped out of the elevator and made our way over to the jet that would take us to the warehouse. It was about an hour drive away, but we wanted to keep the trip as short as possible. We would be flying slower so we can go over backup plans and such on the way and so we could stay out of Magento's radar for as long as possible.

I kept thinking about what Logan told me about a missing piece. I knew my dad was a missing piece in my life, he always had been. But it felt like there was something else in my life that was missing. My mind kept drifting back to Marcus. Could it be him? Would I be forever unsettled until I was able to put him back together so we could be reunited?

The jet engines roared to life and we left the ground, the ceiling above us opening to provide a safe exit.