Archive of Our Own ^beta

Spur of the moment as it was, Julio didn’t take much time acquainting himself with X-Force before jumping aboard their team.

Warpath and Siryn were both nice enough, and Feral was a grating annoyance at best, but it was the final member that left Julio boggled. A force of nature in a fight; one that that Julio was too distracted to take detail of when he was busy fighting for Weapon P.R.I.M.E. at the time. Somewhere, in the back of Julio’s head after he'd switched sides, the man gave him a sense of déjà vu. Otherworldly was the word to describe him, especially in the one moment where he turned his lone eye on Julio. But Julio couldn't shake the idea he knew him from somewhere.

So after, in hot and oppressive Camp Verde, it was Sam who approached Julio first about his sideways glances.

“I know, weird right?”

Julio was distracted from staring at fiery hair tied up high and into a flurry of braids. Against his side, Sam had a bright grin that almost blinded Julio as much as the desert sun behind his head.

“What?”

Sam raised an eyebrow before nodding in the direction of the man Julio still didn’t have a name to. “Y’been staring at him for the past hour. Not that I ain't too when he showed back up like that. Almost didn’t recognize him, but my guess is time is weird in the Mojoverse.”

The clarification did nothing. Confusion only swelled, and Julio was allowed one more pass of his eyes up and down his unknown teammate before Tabitha was in his face too, cocky as ever. Julio sorely wished she’d fork over another pair of sunglasses, as stupid as hers tended to look, because the sun lit up her hair in the same way it did Sam’s. A pair that aggrieved him as much as they blinded him.

A painted nail jabbed into Julio’s chest, poking him over and over in a way that only Tabby knew was best to annoy Julio. “He doesn’t know!”

“Know what?” And then, knocking away Tabitha’s hand, “Quit it!”

Sam and Tabitha shared a look, one that replaced Sam’s moment of solemn contemplation with his knowing smile. When did they learn to start doing that?

“Shatterstar,” and this caught the man in question’s attention, but he otherwise remained where he was, alternating between wiping down a sword and working on some type of radio. Tabitha waved a hand in his direction. “He’s Ben!”

Shatterstar — as he seemed to go by — instantly intoned: “Do not call me that name.”

They all resolutely ignored him.

“You’re lying to me.” This time Julio was overt in his staring. Tabitha had to be yanking his chain, but the longer Julio mapped out the details of Shatterstar’s face, hidden behind ink and a curtain of hair, the more it made sense. The same slope of his nose, the same blue in his remaining eye, just older and with a completely new body, one that boasted the strength that matched his powers. And he was taller now to boot, which infuriated a part of Julio. “What the hell?”

Tabitha pitched her voice under her breath, though by the way Shatterstar twitched, it seemed he heard every word. “Yeah, he disappeared suddenly for a while and came back looking like that. Must’ve had a rough time of it wherever he was. Cable said the Mojoverse sucks.”

‘Rough time of it’ was putting it lightly. It was hard to reconcile the image of average Ben with the man now in front of him. Bulked muscle, towering in height, and his hair was downright floating despite its length. The star tattoo on his face too — Julio never would’ve recognized him, with the way one of his eyes had gone completely white and was surrounded by a starburst of ink. Something about the way he carried himself hid any notion of Benjamin Russell in ways his changed features could not.

The revelation put Julio on edge. Ben was supposed to have left the New Mutants behind: had his two-point-five kids and gone on with his life, continuing to pretend he wasn’t much of a mutant. A normal office job, away from all the fighting and terror. But here he was, two swords stowed on his back and what looked like a gun attached to his waist. A uniform reminiscent of a gladiator and a propensity for silence. Ben had never been a talker, at least not to Julio who always shut him down, but Shatterstar was an entirely new personality to boot. At least, from what Julio had garnered so far.

“You sure he’s not, like, another dimension’s Ben? Or a really rugged clone?”

It seemed like the most plausible explanation, as weird as their lives were. But instead Sam said, “Nah, Cable cleared him. And he knows things.”

Tabs lifted her sunglasses as she peered over at Shatterstar, popping a bubble of gum she’d begun to chew on. The way she bounced off of Sam was beginning to concern Julio. “Yo, Shatty. How’d that Cypher guy die?”

Shatterstar had moved on to fiddling with the radio at his feet, his strange double-bladed sword getting stored back in its sheath. “Shot three times to the back. Illyana sent his killer to limbo as punishment.”

Tabitha made a gesture, as if to say, see what I mean? It didn’t really help Julio, because he hadn’t been with the New Mutants when that had happened, and neither had Tabs, but Sam nodded in confirmation.

And for some reason that revelation vexed Julio. If there had been any hope for him — for any of the other mutants their age — Ben had been the example. The one that was so painfully normal non-mutants would’ve had a hard time finding a reason to hate him. But now he was something else, so distinctly inhuman that Julio would sooner believe he was an alien replacement than the actual Ben.

So Julio marched up to where Shatterstar still sat, tinkering away under the Arizona sun. He had the audacity to not even look fazed by the heat. “What, you finally got tortured once like the rest of us and abandoned your fantasy of being human?”

Ben — Shatterstar — spared him one glance before baring his teeth, sudden enough that Julio was taken aback. Up close, his resemblance to Ben was uncanny, but softer in a way Julio couldn’t place. Like he was made to be under bright stadium lights and not to work a normal nine-to-five in a generic suburban city. Ben hadn’t had that quality.

“You don’t know what you speak about.”

That enticed Julio’s temper more than anything. He leaned close, into Shatterstar’s space, and felt the ground shake underfoot. A threat. “More than you, Ben.”

Shatterstar twitched, and then his hand flew to the scabbard on his back in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, Jimmy was between them, a hand hauling them each apart in a way that instantly called Shatterstar’s ire to Warpath instead. But he did little more than yank his way out of Jimmy’s grip, his own strength seemingly equal to the other mutant in spades. A cautious hand still lingered on the hilt of his sword, but the weapon remained firmly anchored in its scabbard.

“Okay! How about we get back to setting up camp, yeah?” Jimmy shook out the hand that previously held the other and slowly released Julio as well. “Shatterstar, go help Lila since you’re so good with tech.”

The man in question grunted in response before marching off in the direction suggested, radio swiped up into his hands. True to Sam’s words, Ben was different, from his appearance down to his personality, if his lashing-out was anything to go by. If Julio hadn’t been conscious of how his own time with the Right changed him, what torture could do to a person, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Maybe Julio could have been normal if Ben could so drastically change too.

Julio scowled at the thought. Yeah, torture or no, nothing had truly changed about Ben at all. Julio still hated him.

Life as a mutant was tumultuous, but not without avenues, apparently.

Case in point: after being rescued from the Right, Julio could’ve returned home to Mexico. Not that it was remotely a good idea, other than the fact he did miss his mom, but it was an unspoken option. If he’d begged, X-Factor likely would’ve relented.

Conversely, he had a relatively stable choice to stay in the United States too. X-Factor made sure of it, even though there was a tense pause from Jean the first time Hank brought up the idea that Julio should go back to school. Xavier’s School, apparently, had some issues ongoing that necessitated he stay with X-Factor for the moment.

But as much as Rusty, Skids, and Tabby did, Julio had agency that didn’t include being alone or dying in a ditch. Not that Julio didn’t mind that latter option too much, but Tabs made it hard to choose either option. But somehow, he had choices and people that could make what he wanted happen if he just asked. It was more than Julio had hoped for when he realized he was a mutant.

So when Julio found himself with the New Mutants, everyone’s stories for why they ended up at Xavier’s School originally made perfect sense. An upsetting accident for Roberto; a religious upbringing that hated mutants for Rahne; a family with too many children that just couldn’t take a mutant for Sam. The list went on, though one oddity stood out that wasn’t even the resident alien, Warlock.

Ben Russell was an anomaly. A loving home back in Boston, smarts enough to put him through college, and a temperament that was counter-intuitive to half the hijinks the New Mutants liked to get up to. Julio hated him, a little, and avoided conversation with the other because of it. He was too normal, a shot at life outside of the nonsense mutants dealt with, and if Rahne hadn’t vouched for him, Julio had trouble believing he even was a mutant. Whatever his powers were, he didn’t use them, and he apparently lacked a code name.

So Ben remained an acquaintance on a team Julio otherwise enjoyed. It wasn’t until Cable rolled around and established himself as the de-facto adult leader that Julio jumped ship and left the memory of Ben Russell behind him. There were more important matters in his life at the time, like chasing after Rahne and pretending she was more than a friend.

Julio could admit he wasn't much of a fighter. Sure, he could hold his own, but he preferred to stay at a distance and let his powers do all the work. Aside from Jimmy and Feral, whose mutations necessitated close combat, none of them were very eager to get up-close and personal, really.

Except Ben now, apparently.

It was hard to believe that Shatterstar had ever been, well, Ben. He moved like a man with a lifetime of experience, a flurry of blades that never paused for a moment in battle. More than once, the group had trudged out of a fight relatively unscathed, with the exception of Shatterstar absolutely splattered in blood.

Rarely was any of it ever his. After their first debriefing, everyone avoided Shatterstar like the plague because he participated while holding someone’s severed arm. For once, Julio was relieved Cable had returned to the team, if only to have someone else deal with Shatterstar’s issues and tell him he couldn't do that.

After all, Julio’s reluctance to get close afforded him a better spot than most to monitor Shatterstar in a fight. It was only because of this that he noted inconsistencies in the way Shatterstar fought. He wasn’t just vicious, but at times he — performed, if Julio had to choose a word.

It felt like Shatterstar never ceased training, only stopping briefly to eat, sleep, or surprisingly, watch TV in the den. And although Julio didn’t quite enjoy training, he could be found attempting it of his own volition on occasion, like now. Where he was once again distracted by Shatterstar’s performance.

“Why do you do that?”

The swing of Shatterstar’s blade halted, a precise movement that was halted by Julio's voice. From the corner of his eye, head unmoving, Shatterstar pinned Julio with a stare. “Do what?”

“Whenever you stick a landing, you always look up.”

It wasn’t just that. More than once, it seemed like Shatterstar was wont to take hits he could’ve dodged, simply because it brought the enemy closer. He always healed, of course, but it was a strange tactic, one typically only ever done at the end of a fight. And he had an infuriating habit of flaring his cape mid-jump, a swish of his wrist that was excessive movement, one Cable probably would’ve chewed out anyone else over. Sometimes, Shatterstar even narrated himself during a fight, the most he ever deigned to talk.

Again, a performance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shatterstar grunted, resuming his traced steps to slash his sword down into open air. His hair spun with a twirl, and Julio kept his eyes firmly above Shatterstar’s shoulders, attached only to the other’s face.

Miffed, Julio turned away. So much for trying to be a good teammate. “Fine. Won’t be my fault when you get stabbed from below because you’re too busy looking at imaginary cameras.”

There was silence as Shatterstar continued his odd jungle-gym movements, and Julio went back to contemplating the weights Feral had set up when it was clear he wasn’t going to receive a response. He’d probably crush himself trying to pick up her weights, but going for one of the smaller ones was emasculating, her enhanced strength be damned.

But then, from behind Julio, “I have a question for you, Rictor.”

That was new. Julio abandoned his task of picking a weight and turned back to Shatterstar, who now stood much closer than before, perhaps a meter away. Try as Julio might, it was still hard to see any semblance of Ben in Shatterstar, especially in moments like these. His whited-out eye was unnerving when coupled with the way he hardly blinked.

Well, no harm no foul. Julio said, “Shoot.”

“I do not have a firearm on me.” Shatterstar squinted at Julio as he spoke, like he was searching the other for a weapon. Julio, taken aback, checked himself too. What the hell kind of line was that?

The seconds stretched, Julio baffled and Shatterstar appraising him, before Shatterstar reluctantly resumed. Julio made a silent note to avoid slang in the near future.

“Your powers. I want to see if you can hold this.”

Suddenly one of Shatterstar’s swords was proffered to Julio. Surprise didn’t even begin to cover Julio’s reaction, taken aback as he was. As long as Julio had known Ben as Shatterstar, he’d almost never seen the man without his swords. He probably slept with them too, if Julio had to take a guess. Whether it was paranoia or sentimental attachment, he wasn’t sure, but Shatterstar had certainly not let another teammate hold one of the blades before.

Yet Shatterstar offered. Rather than overthink anymore than he already had, Julio grabbed the open hilt with care. And seeing as Shatterstar did not suddenly attack him, nor did his face contort in anger, Julio continued to pull the sword up to his face.

It was lightweight, as far as Julio assumed a sword would weigh, and fit comfortably into his palm. But beneath it all, as Julio examined the way the sun caught on the blade, a frequency thrummed low beneath it, a song Julio couldn’t name. Subtle enough that it didn’t make the sword outwardly shake, but if Julio had been anyone else, it would’ve numbed his hand.

Julio’s brows creased as the frequency continued to tremble beneath his fingertips. “That’s weird.”

“So you can use it?”

The question was sincere. Julio shot Shatterstar a questioning look, but the other continued to stare in that flat expression of his, curiously focused on Julio’s own hand. He must’ve been referring to the current that seemed to run throughout the sword.

“I mean, not really.” Julio snorted at the way Shatterstar’s face fell, just the most minute amount. “I’ve never used a sword before, but I’m used to my hands shaking and blocking it out. Doesn't really bother me.”

Then, as Julio swapped the sword around to his other hand and found the same result, “Why’s it doing that?”

Mojoworld tech? Or maybe something of Cable’s? Ben hadn’t had the swords in the New Mutants, and they were definitely made of a foreign material. A neat failsafe to prevent others from getting a handle on your own weapon, just a strange one.

“I am making it do so. If it helps for you to keep in mind during battle, lodge it in the enemy if I am unarmed. I will take it from there.”

Shatterstar patiently held out his hand for the blade to be returned and Julio passed it back. As fascinating as it was, the subtle vibrations still set Julio on edge, like he was touching something that didn’t belong to him. Better back in Shatterstar’s hands than his own. Why Shatterstar could resist the current yet Julio was slightly bothered was beyond him, but perhaps it was keyed to turn off when in Shatterstar's hand or his hollow bones had something to do with it.

Julio voiced his thoughts. “You’re controlling that current? Like, through tech?”

But Shatterstar had already turned his back to him and moved on to balancing on a single hand, a twist to his torso Julio could never replicate. He resolutely ignored Julio’s question, and it nettled the man enough that Julio chose to stomp further into Camp Verde, intent to find someone else to bother.

He could train another day.

The New Mutants had been camped out at another nondescript building, lost without a proper base like they often were. Julio didn’t quite mind it, he was used to being mobile ever since he left Mexico, but it was clear some of the other members seemed unnerved by the change. As it was, Julio crowded up next to Sam in one of the more furnished rooms, one where he seemed to be fretting over the current sleeping arrangement for the day.

Voice low despite the relative emptiness of the room, Julio said, “Hey, I’ve got a question.”

Instantly, Sam’s head jerked up, confusion bare on his features. He darted a glance over Julio’s shoulders before his visible bewilderment deepened, words equally as quiet as he returned words. “Why are we whispering?”

Julio frowned at Sam, before pitching his voice back up, flared loud. He had been attempting to keep a low profile, but if Sam was going to be obtuse, might as well make it worth. “Dude, shut up. Answer me.”

“Y’gotta ask a question first, man.”

“What’s the deal with Ben?” Julio huffed out an exasperated breath. The boy in question had been bothering him — why was he even still with the New Mutants? He stuck out like a sore thumb, unbearably normal compared to them all. “Is he actually a mutant? He just seems like he doesn’t do anything.”

Sam cut Julio another glance, face twisted into an emotion Julio couldn’t name. It made anger defensively flare in his chest.

Though Sam took the question in stride after his short pause. “He’s more identifiably mutant than a previous classmate we’ve had. He just ain’t like to show it.”

Then, before Julio could think to catch Sam’s arm, the other darted his head through the doorway. “Ben! C’mere for a minute.”

A shock of red hair appeared in the entrance shortly, just a shade lighter than Rahne’s. More blond, if Julio really considered it, but he really didn’t want to do that. It made his thoughts fuzzy.

“Sam?”

Instead, Julio distracted himself. He wasn’t very good with identifying accents in English yet, but everyone else claimed there was a Bostonian twang to Ben’s. He still couldn’t hear it, but the kid did look annoyingly All-American. More than Sam, somehow. He tapped impatiently at his arm to better physically distract himself rather than rumble the ground.

“Hey, Rictor here don’t seem to think you’re mutant-y.” Julio kicked at Sam’s ankle, ignoring the way Sam kicked him back. “Y’wanna show off for once?”

A dumbfounded stare met them both, and for a moment, it seemed like Ben was going to refuse. Like he didn’t actually have any powers, as Julio predicted. But then, he shrugged, stubbing a toe at the ground below. Sheepish, if the response meant anything. “I’d rather list most of what I can do than demonstrate.”

Julio raised an eyebrow. But before Ben clarified on anything else, he moved to one of the dilapidated couches that decorated the room, hefting a side up with ease. Julio’s eyebrows went higher as Ben proceeded to lift the couch entirely from the floor one-handed after. That answered one question, and also made Julio feel a little bad about himself in the process. Ben was even lankier than he was, but there he was showing off with ease. Why couldn't he have gotten super-strength instead of lethal anxiety syndrome?

Sam whistled low. “He ain’t ever show off the strength bit. Pretty agile too, can beat out Rahne during ‘ball.”

“Don’t forget light as a feather,” Ben sent Sam a tight smile. “Xavier said it was hollow bones.”

Mouth a little dry, and shame running high, Julio replied, “That’s strangely specific.”

The couch was safely lowered to the floor before Ben spoke again with a shrug. “They've always been strange. Was born with the powers, they didn’t show up when I was a teen. Dr. McCoy and Professor Xavier could never figure out why.”

And while Julio hadn’t been with the New Mutants long, the fact that Ben had never once made a show of his powers was oddly infuriating. Like he hid what he was. The idea soured Julio’s mood further, anger leeching into his voice. “Why don’t you ever use them?”

Julio couldn't escape his powers, he was Rictor for better or worse. But Ben could outrun his genes, and evidently he did.

Ben had the audacity to simply shrug, lackadaisical as he eyed the doorway for escape. “I don’t see a need to.”

Maybe it was jealousy. That Ben would never go haywire and be used as a guinea pig to level San Francisco. Or that one wrong emotion might bring the roof down on his teammates heads. That his hands would always continually shake, a visible reminder for others he wasn’t quite human. But in that moment, Julio had never hated anyone more. That Ben could be so normal despite it all.

“So why do you bother staying with the team?” And then, because Julio couldn’t resist the jab with the way Ben stared, unassuming and like a teen unembroiled in the life of a mutant, “Shouldn’t you be looking for your white picket fence already?”

As good as it felt to watch Ben flinch, Julio’s shame didn’t dissipate. In turn, Sam set a hand on Julio’s shoulder, grounding against the flare of anger in his chest. It wasn’t Ben’s fault, that Julio wasn’t and would never be normal. But it still grated him, made his hands continue to shake in a way that threatened destruction.

“Lay off him, Ric.”

Julio shoved the hold off him, marching for the entry-way as he resisted the urge to shake the earth apart. Half the team could grate on his nerves, but none did so like Ben. Although Julio never wanted to admit it, Ben was everything he wasn’t and it only served to piss him off.

Shatterstar did, in fact, “take it from there” weeks later, which Julio had been certain it was a more literal phrase until then.

Amid the clamor of a fight, one of Shatterstar's swords — the shorter one with a serrated edge — spun to Julio’s side after a particularly devastating disarm from a mutant with strength to match Shatterstar and Jimmy’s. Julio had been the target of a particularly mobile, airborne enemy all the while that was adept at dodging any shockwaves sent into the sky, and Julio was running out of options at each pass made closer to him.

So with one hand amping up frequency in one direction, and Shatterstar’s newly procured blade in the other, Julio forced the enemy in close without the ability to dodge to the side. The sword sank disgustingly easy into the man’s thigh, and though there was a howl of anger, it didn’t seem to do much other than enrage the mutant. It only left Julio wildly throwing himself to the side as he dodged a swipe of a hand, scrambling to turn his sight back onto the enemy before those claws sank into his spine next.

But as Julio crawled backwards, a flash of bright light exploded from the lodged blade and the mutant's whole leg was gone in a shower of red, alongside a good chunk of his torso. Julio could only blink in shock at the shower of gore down onto him, a facsimile to how Shatterstar would often look after a battle. The sound of the body thumping to the ground was louder than the way the ground rumbled from Julio’s powers.

Julio was left dumbfounded. And drenched. He resisted the urge to throw up at the feeling of blood in his mouth.

Instead, though, he hoisted himself from the floor, breath heavy and huffing at the way his clothes began to stick at uncomfortable angles. How did Shatterstar deal with it? Awkward gait aside, Julio began to trudge over to where a perplexed Jimmy stood above a laid-out Shatterstar. Their own quarry was prone nearby, seemingly unconscious from a blow. Julio didn’t even want to look at what remained of the man he fought.

A cursory pass over Shatterstar proved him unharmed, though he still hadn’t pushed himself from the ground yet, dust beginning to stick to his hair as his chest visibly heaved. It wasn’t a sight Julio saw too often. To Jimmy, Julio asked, “Hey, is he okay?”

It was Shatterstar who answered from the floor below. “Fekt, I cannot do that often. You are lucky my fight had ended.”

An odd turn of phrase, but Julio chalked it up to Shatterstar appearing out-of-breath. So while Julio began to rub at the blood that threatened to drip into his eyes, a preoccupation before he processed the rest of Shatterstar's words, Jimmy asked, “Since when could you do that?”

Which, yeah, a good question. Ben’s powerset had always been eclectic, but blowing people up would’ve been nice to know a little sooner. Was it the alien tech in the sword?

“I was informed that is my mutant power, although I’m not entirely sure.”

Julio squinted down at Shatterstar, who was finally beginning to climb to his feet. He looked paler than normal as he rose, but otherwise appeared no worse for wear. Mostly, he looked like he was disappointed Julio was the one who ended up covered in gore and not him. “I thought your mutant power was the healing and other schtick?”

“No, that’s–” and then Shatterstar’s mouth clamped shut with an audible click. He began to pat himself down for his weapons before trekking over to where the body of Julio’s foe lay — Julio kept his eyes firmly away, on the horizon where Feral and Siryn had tumbled away with another enemy. Shortly, Shatterstar reappeared, previously abandoned sword now in hand, undamaged. “May we go find Domino, now?”

“Yeah,” Julio’s tongue darted out to wet his lip on instinct, before cringing back at the taste of copper. He wouldn’t be able to get that taste out of his mouth for days after. “I really need a shower.”

Sam was surprisingly adept at getting the New Mutants invited to parties. There was a lot of fibbing involved, especially since explaining where they went to school was difficult, but evidently Sam had a routine down. It helped Roberto had an international student charm to him, and Julio was more than glad to back him up if it meant he could pretend to be normal for a few hours. Rahne, not so much, but Julio couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t amused by the way she was often crowded with questions about her accent.

Among it all, Julio had wormed away from a conversation so he could down another drink. The distractions were nice, but even he needed a moment alone without another voice in his ear. A moment to keep his hands from shaking. Thankfully, the water he’d chosen didn’t seem too displaced as he concentrated on preventing it from wavering.

To his side, even though she was a tad older, Skids had agreed to come out with them. Rusty, not so much, claiming he needed to catch up on sleep and Warlock joined him. Though Skids was currently hand-in-hand with Ben, a silly swinging dance between them both as they tried to match pace with another pair next to them Julio didn’t recognize.

This was normal. Julio could pretend to be an ordinary teen, and he was more than happy to do so.

Drink thoroughly downed and hands calmed, Julio made to rescue Rahne, maybe convince her to dance, when he was stopped by a figure hovering in his peripherals. A girl, similar aged and nervously tugging at her hair, longer than his own by a mile. Maybe he should grow his own out — having to spend so much time spiking his was getting annoying, and her cut looked achievable.

“Hey! Sorry if this is weird, but where was it you and your friends are from again?”

Julio deflected easily, as he’d become skilled at during these types of events. By the way the girl blinked, brown eyes imploring, she didn’t notice. “I’m from Guadalajara. Definitely a change of pace in New York.”

Her face lit up. Julio tried to not make assumptions, because that was the polite thing to do, but he was still taken aback when crisp Spanish made its way from her. It’d been too long since he’d had a proper conversation in his native tongue, Bobby Drake’s jarring accent hardly qualifying. “My mother is from there! I’ve always wanted to visit, she says its beautiful. What made you end up here?”

Julio couldn’t help but return her enthusiasm. Chatting about home was easy, a return to the good parts of his past. Of course, half his answers were laced with outright lies. Aside from the mutant thing, his family wasn’t ordinary by any standards either, but Julio could certainly fake it. Suddenly his father no longer had his head shot off, but instead passed away from a sudden stroke. Some of his siblings and cousins could stay arrested, that wasn’t so damning of a detail, but he certainly resurrected a few of them in the process. A web of lies in which Julio reconstructed his life.

Halfway through the girl’s babble about her sister’s complicated love life, Ben appeared, tucked tight enough against Julio’s side that their arms brushed. Julio resisted the urge to shove him out of his space, distaste coiling his chest. Could he not have bothered someone else?

“Your sister is—” Ben paused his interjection in Spanish, clearly searching for an adjective in a language he was unused to speaking. Frankly, he sounded atrocious, and Julio openly winced. It made sense why Ben had never tried to practice on him before. So Julio thwapped Ben on his shoulder before he said anything else, knocking him from mangling whatever other word he was about it add.

In English, Julio said, “Dude, don’t speak Spanish. You sound like an idiot.”

The girl giggled, surprisingly enamored by Ben’s attempt. “I don’t mind it!”

Julio rolled his eyes.

And because Julio began openly shouldering Ben out of his space, intent clear that he wanted Ben gone, the other boy listened. He stalked away, a frown thrown in Julio’s direction, before Julio turned back to the girl at his side, plastering on a smile he didn’t quite feel anymore.

Nothing like Ben to make his mood drop. To make him feel like a liar, even though Ben hadn’t said anything damning. His presence was reminder enough. Maybe though, if he kept pretending he was normal to this girl, it would come true.

Later, when it was clear the other New Mutants were getting antsy, Julio scanned the remaining crowd for bodies he knew. Rahne huddled behind him on a couch, Sam and Skids seemed intent on eating what remained of some chip spread, and ‘Berto was missing. Although Julio was confident he knew exactly where Roberto had slipped off to. Only Ben appeared missing in action.

With everyone otherwise occupied, and Julio dreading the thought of being dragged into another conversation, he went hunting for Ben. Down several hallways he met nothing but dwindling chatter and, more than once, couples when he opened doors. He’d have to scrub his eyes later, for now he was too socially exhausted to feel anything more than mild embarrassment as he pulled each door closed.

Eventually, he wandered outside. There was less of a crowd than earlier in the night, but still a decent number to search through. Even then, there was no shock of strawberry blond hair, and Julio almost called it a day. Ben could find his own damn way home if he got left behind.

However, just in case, he ducked his head into one of the small alleyways that framed the house. The first yielded no results, atmosphere evidently too thick and creepy for anyone to consider making out in, but Julio counted his blessings he hadn’t interrupted someone again. He wasn’t so lucky on the opposite side.

The moonlight illuminated enough upon checking the second alleyway that he could tell there were bodies pushed up against a wall. Which, Julio wasn’t about to get close enough to check the identity of, so instead he called out, “Russell, you down here?”

There was a flurry of movement, an exclamation of of annoyance, and Julio moved out of the mouth of the alley to lean against the wall. He really didn’t want to be watching anymore of that, headache already beginning to form. One voice was definitely Ben’s, and he was proven further right when it spoke again, breathless and close to Julio after a moment.

“Yeah, right here.”

Julio turned his head around the corner and stared at a flushed Ben, awkwardly tugging at his shirt. Not that Julio cared Ben was getting action, but his eyes automatically slid back into the darkness behind the other. While it could have been the shadows playing tricks on him, the second body desperately trying to find a place to hide was definitely male.

The anxiety on Ben’s face cut through the low light harsher than the moon. Julio tried not to let it reflect on his.

Instead, Julio swallowed down the pit in his stomach and nodded over his shoulder. Now he really wanted out of this place. “We’re leaving soon. I’ll be back in the main room with everyone.”

Neither brought up that night ever again.

It was while Julio was trying to discern Cable's indecipherable handwriting for the third time in a minute-long span, that Tabby began slapping him on the arm, a gesture begging for attention.

"Dude. Check that!"

Julio rolled his eyes. Letters were beginning to blur, as was his patience to figure out what type of damn soup he was supposed to be buying, so he humored Tabs' pointing finger. From down the aisle, wracked full of colors and brands Julio barely recognized, Shatterstar lingered at a row of magazines in the most ordinary clothes they could find to shove him in. It was a bit of work, and most of it consisted of stealing some of Jimmy's outfits, but Shatterstar eventually emerged in public without his uniform. Really, it had been convincing him to leave his swords in the car that was the hardest part.

And even though Shatterstar should have been well-acquainted with normal clothes, he still continued to tug at the hem of his wife beater, like he wasn't quite used to the material.

But next to him, leaned against the corner of a stand, a girl twirled her hair around a finger, shifting close enough to Shatterstar that even Julio could make out that she had an interest in him. There was another gesture from her — probably something about Shatterstar's own hair, longer than hers with the way 'Star had been convinced to keep it out of a ponytail for once. She laughed, the noise not quite reaching Julio from their distance, but her smile was bright.

Julio turned away from the scene, something strange in his chest. "Good for him."

Tabitha swatted him. "Hey, don't be a Debbie Downer! I was wondering what would happen when we got him into the public. Always thought Ben was a little cute, but he's something else since he came back."

Resisting the urge to stare at Shatterstar again, Julio busied himself with grabbing a can of soup at random, Cable's preference be damned. Should've learned to write better and should've sent him into Sedona with Domino instead if he wanted the correct supplies bought. His own fault, really.

"I'm aware he looks like a model, you don't have to rub it in."

Shatterstar really did, with the way he glowed under harsh lights and the way his tattoo highlighted his features. Even his hair never seemed to tangle, which aggrieved Julio to no end. Maybe more a rockstar like Dazzler than a model, actually, but the comparison still stood strong. Reconciling ordinary Ben with how Shatterstar looked now remained difficult.

"Awe, you jealous Ric?" Tabitha tugged at a lock of Julio's loose hair, long enough now it was to his shoulders. "Your punk look has its charms. I'm sure some girl is into it."

Julio didn't want to address how weird that statement made him feel, so instead he said, "Isn’t charming enough for you or Rahne, apparently."

"Oh shut up, I know you don't actually like me like that," Tabitha kicked at his leg in good fun and snatched the shopping list from his hands. "But I'll pretend for you up until Sam asks me out."

"Sam?" And then, because suddenly the way the two of them bounced off each other was beginning to click for Julio, “Eugh, you just put the worst image in my head."

"He's nice! You be nice!"

Tabby shoved Julio to the side, a ploy to get at the correct soup in front of him, but also to annoy him if Julio knew anything about Tabs. So he held his ground, offset because Tabitha wasn't that much shorter than him, but he did have weight on her in muscle.

From the corner of his eye, a laugh bubbling in his chest as he shoved back at Tabitha, there was a flicker of movement.

"Tabs, stop."

Tabitha didn't let up, hip checking him once more. "Oh so you get to cry chicken, but when I do it—"

"I'm serious, wait." Julio grabbed at her shoulder, holding her at a distance as he craned his head around her body. From down the aisle, Shatterstar stood alone, expression stricken in a way Julio couldn't quite place. Absolute bewilderment with anxiety mixed in, maybe? The way Julio felt when Rahne once tried to hold his hand.

Abandoning Tabitha to the task of reading Cable's atrocious writing despite her protests, Julio made his way up to Shatterstar's side. The man in question was still listlessly dithering next to the magazines, like he had no direction for his next choice. The girl that had previously been next to him had disappeared, the blurry movement he’d seen earlier.

"What's up with you?"

Not dismayed, but genuinely perplexed, Shatterstar turned his attention to Julio and said, "I don't understand what just happened."

Something wormed in the back of Julio's mind. Maybe it was the tilt of Shatterstar's pronunciation of the word 'understand', or maybe it was the fact Shatterstar seemed more distant from Julio's perception of Ben than he'd ever been before. Julio could believe whatever happened to Ben made him lethal and withdrawn, but losing social identifiers was another thing entirely.

Regardless, searching for clarification, Julio said, "What, you're upset that girl turned you down? Impressed you fumbled it."

"Fumbled what?" And the genuine confusion that appeared on Shatterstar's face was so baffling that the brief smile Julio had plastered on fell in tandem.

"The… girl? She was into you."

Shatterstar continued to stare at Julio like he had a third head. For moment, Julio considered he just might have.

"Right, okay. Looks like yours and yet you've managed to lose your ability to flirt. More girls for me, I guess." Even though Julio meant it in jest, his chest tightened uncomfortably for a reason he didn't want to name, and he took to guiding Shatterstar back to Tabitha's side. Better to have her watch him before Shatterstar inevitably got distracted by the lobster display again.

And after, while Julio drove because Tabitha was nothing but a passenger princess and Jimmy swore Shatterstar was the devil incarnate when it came to driving, Julio placed what had bothered him so much. In the past several years, English had become a second skin to Julio with how often he spoke it, and he'd begun to pick out distinctions of the language.

Shatterstar didn't have a Bostonian accent.

Julio was, admittedly, bored out of his mind. As was everyone else, with Sam, Warlock, Rusty and Skids having disappeared to find a game, Roberto and Tabs warm against Julio’s sides, and Ben and Rahne huddled over some fantasy novel they’d picked up. Every once in a while, the latter two would bicker over a page being turned too fast or something of the sort and Tabby would say a scathing line about nerds. Julio almost asked them all to shut up, just so he could steal the book to read himself.

Eventually, ‘Berto was the first to crack.

“You know, if we weren’t in America, we could find something much more fun to do.”

Julio snorted. They were stuck in the middle of New York — somewhere else couldn’t be that different. They’d just exhausted all their recent ideas, regardless of location. “I doubt we’d be any less bored in Brazil.”

“Easier for me to go get something to drink though.”

“Easy isn’t always the most fun.” Tabitha sing-songed against Julio’s shoulder before she began digging into her purse, a smile Julio knew well curling on her face. She had a not-so-legal idea. “We can try sneaking into somewhere.”

Now distracted from her book, Rahne had perked up, Ben subtly darting a look at the three on the couch. A terse frown decorated her face alongside her hands wringing. “I dinnae think we should.”

“Isn’t the legal drinking age low in Scotland too?” Julio teased, distracting the flush of embarrassment beginning to creep up his neck. Tabby’s idea wasn’t a bad one, but there was a major flaw in Julio participating. Drinking was one thing, yet Tabs was most certainly suggesting the idea of a club. So, to get it out of the way, Julio added, “But she has a point. And I can’t dance.”

Incredulous, but frilled by a laugh, Roberto asked, “You can’t dance?”

“Hey, I wasn’t forced into dance classes like the rest of you. Cut me some slack.”

Rahne had sat up even straighter, watching Julio with a gleam in her eye that made Julio sick for a reason he couldn’t name. A genuine smile split her face as she climbed to her feet. “I could show you! It’s not too hard.”

“You sure?” Rahne had a whole thing about touching him. Julio wasn’t sure if it was her religious upbringing or something else, but it made their whole song and dance a lot easier to handle. There was no pressure for Julio to do anything but verbally flirt when it came to her, unlike with most other girls.

Before Rahne could answer, Ben cut in, abandoning the novel in his hands to the floor. “Rahne, I think the dancing he’s referring to isn’t what we were taught.”

Julio glowered, tempted to get up and wipe the passive expression off Ben’s face. He wasn’t overtly smug, but Julio could tell the tinge was there from the way his voice inflected. Instead though, Julio directed at Ben, “Doubt you know how to dance like that either.”

He punctuated his words with a sharp smile. Ben only frowned in return, avoiding Julio’s eyes. Coward.

With a scoff, Tabs was up and skirting around Julio, a manicured hand grabbing Roberto’s own to haul him up as well. The couch bounced without either of them weighing it down. “Bobby and I can just go alone, since you all live such boring lives.”

Not one to back down, and because clubbing genuinely might’ve been better than being trapped alone with Rahne and Ben, Julio said, “I bet you’re just embarrassed you can’t do the waltz like them.”

The bait was snatched up. Tabby rounded on Julio, abandoning Roberto back to the confines of the couch. She stamped a foot, dangerously close to Julio’s own. “Can to!”

“‘Berto? Ben?” Julio stuck his head around Tabs’ body, eyeing the other boys in question. He gestured up and down Tabitha. “Can one of you prove me right?”

“I’ll prove it,” Tabitha hissed, and surprising half the room, she lunged for Ben over Roberto. The noise Ben made as he was pulled from the floor left Julio howling, as did his balking expression.

The two stumbled, Tabitha a flurry of limbs forcing what might have been a waltz if Julio had been watching TV sideways. Ben, somehow, followed her lead, and appeared much more coordinated, a subtle shift with each passing second until he was leading and Tabitha only stepped on his feet every other beat.

Julio wanted to laugh again, but he had to give credit where it was due. Ben was good at traditional dancing, an even pace without music that Rahne clapped a tempo to, and eventually Tabitha shrieked her own shrill giggle when she was spun out, released at the last moment so she landed in a pile of limbs on top of Roberto. Julio narrowly avoided an elbow to the face, and he was saved from complaining by the two leaping from the couch to try their own dance, Ben replacing their seat seconds later.

“Good enough?”

The laughter of Roberto and Tabitha was quickly becoming a replacement for the music they desperately needed. One-step, two-step instructions, slower than the mess Ben and Tabs had been. Julio spared Ben a glance, ignoring the placating smile that was trained on him.

“Yeah, proved me right.”

At least Julio had the waltz down by the end of the night.

Weeks later, Shatterstar dropped a bombshell.

“Since when do you know Spanish?” Julio asked, a distraction from the news Shatterstar gave him more than anything. Of course, Ben had tried his skills on Julio once, but it had been so grating that it hardly qualified as Julio's mother tongue. Shatterstar though — there was a tilt in his accent, the same one that inflected on certain words in English too, but nothing that made him nigh unintelligible.

“By watching television. I thought it would be useful to speak of things privately, from enemies or friends.” Shatterstar’s face twisted, like he’d made an error Julio couldn’t name. Then, he added, “It helped to already know the fundamentals.”

For a second, any lingering hate that Julio had for Shatterstar disappeared. It was, quite possibly, the nicest thing someone had done for him since he’d joined X-Force, barring the time Jimmy found Julio asleep in a pile of dirt outside and swore himself to secrecy. But Julio couldn’t resist ribbing Shatterstar over something he’d been terrible at years ago.

“Yeah, well, your pronunciation has certainly improved. You don’t sound like an idiot anymore.”

Shatterstar frowned. It made Julio regret his words, just a little, because at some point Shatterstar had become Shatterstar to him, no longer a phantom of Ben Russell. Yet, in moments like these, he was reminded of his past with Ben and his old animosity was wont to slip out. Somehow, Shatterstar had begun to tolerate his outbursts, but by the way he proceeded to abscond from the room not long after their conversation, Julio had made a mistake this time.

Still, Julio lingered on the discovery. Learning Spanish wasn’t that difficult — Julio was proof of that exchange’s ease in reverse — but Ben had a history of being terrible at it. And that same tilted accent of Shatterstar’s was present in Spanish, one that wasn’t influenced by English, tinging the way Shatterstar spoke.

Julio put a pin in the thought. It wasn’t really his problem if Shatterstar was lying to the whole team.

So later, when Theresa suddenly sat down between Roberto and Julio as they played a lackluster game of cards with the radio blasting in the background, Julio was taken aback. Terry made sure to crank down the Beastie Boys as she sat, gaining the ire of the table.

“Domino needs to be having this conversation, not me.”

Julio raised an eyebrow, as did Roberto, and they both went to set their decks down, their game of gin interrupted. Terry looked distinctly out of place, as it wasn’t often she approached either of them outside of team exercises. It showed in the way she sat, stiff without liquid confidence.

Roberto was the first among them to speak. “What conversation?”

“You,” and Terry pinned Julio in place with her gaze. “Shatterstar thinks you hate him.”

Taken aback, Julio defensively crossed his arms. “What? No I don’t.”

A ridiculous accusations. Frankly, out of everyone on the team, Shatterstar might’ve been the person he was learning to like the most. He knew when to respect his own space, when it was time to be quiet, and he didn’t keep eating the last of his granola bars like everyone else. Even Domino did that last one. Sure, Shatterstar was weird, but sometimes it felt more comfortable to sit in the den with ‘Star than with Tabs, a feat unto itself. But mostly because Tabs wouldn’t shut up about Sam nowadays and insisted Julio needed to know all the nitty-gritty details.

No, Julio didn’t hate Shatterstar. Not with the way he was now.

Roberto’s head snapped to Julio, plain shock on his face. “You don’t? I mean, you really hated Ben back during the New Mutant days.”

Julio glared at Roberto. Not helping his case.

“I don’t hate Shatterstar,” Julio repeated. Because he didn’t. “He’s not Ben, so I have no problem with him.”

A look passed between both Terry and Roberto following, and Julio went back to shuffling through his cards. Maybe he should try to make a different pair. Maybe Theresa would join in. Maybe he could jump off the nearest cliff to avoid anymore conversations, ever. It’d probably cure all his needs.

Finally, Roberto said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Julio hummed, moving his cards again. Nah, best to stick with trying to make a spades suit. Roberto was definitely stacking threes. “Exactly what I said. He’s not Ben. Different guy entirely.”

Because, at that point, the evidence was overwhelming. The language ticks, the way Shatterstar fought with a lifetime of experience, the cultural aspects Shatterstar appeared to completely blank on. Although Shatterstar had proved to have some of Ben’s memories, memories weren’t all that made a person. Julio wasn’t dumb enough to have not put the dots together already. Shatterstar’s ease with Spanish was only the final confirmation Julio needed.

Then, after throwing his cards back to the table, he asked Terry, “Why do you care anyways?

Theresa, at least, had the courtesy to answer his question first. “Domino and I found him sulking. According to Dom, she’s noticed he stress-watches at least five rom-coms at once whenever you snap at him. I agree that he did look more miserable than normal.”

Roberto cut into the conversation before Julio could comment on Shatterstar’s choice of films. “Hold on, back up. Why the hell are you convinced Shatterstar is someone else? Who could he possibly be but Ben?”

“Dunno. He doesn’t talk like Ben. Couple other things.” Julio shrugged, considering escape from the room again. Judging by the reactions of the other two, no one saw the things he did. So much for Domino’s espionage training. “You guys seriously can’t tell?”

Theresa rolled her eyes, tone chiding like she was talking to a child. “He’s been through some things, you know that. I didn’t know him as Ben, but Bobby you agree, yes?”

‘Berto was quick to nod along with her, slapping a hand down on the table. The vibrations were grating and annoying to Julio’s overtuned sensitivity. “Yeah, I think he’s Ben. Sam and Tabs agree with me. Kinda hard to think he’s not when they’ve got the same face and powers. And memories!”

Julio scoffed. “You guys just believe whatever Cable tells you. You really think there’s nothing up with him? Aside from his general issues.”

There was a long pause, because at least Roberto also doubted Cable at times, but it barely lasted when a pensive look crossed Theresa’s face. She pulled a hand to her jawline, gently tapping it, contemplative. “Well, Jimmy did mention something weird the other day.”

It took only a gesture from Roberto, ever eager for the drama, for her to continue. “He said he noticed years back, when he was with the Hellions, that he thought Ben was left-handed based on the way he had to retie his tie during a Hellfire event with the New Mutants. But he said Shatterstar was right-handed.”

“So maybe the guy is ambidextrous or ties stuff weird,” Roberto concluded, tapping down on the table to punctuate his point. “Or maybe Jimmy remembered wrong!”

“Big words there, ‘Berto.”

Julio kept himself from blatantly laughing when Roberto glared at him, but couldn’t resist the jump of his shoulders and the smile that crossed his face. Roberto fumed, swiping his cards back up before he pointed straight at Julio. “Whatever. Keep living in lalaland. If Cable signs off, I’ll believe him on this. You sound insane.”

“Lalaland is nice, except when I don't have people nagging in my ears telling me I’m wrong. Great not to have Cable there.” Aggrieved, Julio slowly shook his head and picked his own stack of cards back up. He really wished they’d just continue with the card game and Theresa would go back to her sulking again. It never ended well when he got into debates with the others about Cable. “Never should have mentioned it.”

And then, to Terry, because he’d be damned if his foul mood continued stacking upon itself, “If Shatterstar asks, I don’t hate him.”

“That’s what Domino tried to tell him. He got angry when we pressed though.”

Of course he did. Shatterstar was as bristly as a tomcat, more so than Feral. Julio craned his head back in his chair, a move to stare at the ceiling in contemplation. More so he didn’t have to see the others.

Maybe he should’ve gone to try and fix Shatterstar’s mood, because Julio could admit he did enjoy the other’s company at times. Maybe.

Instead, Julio settled for drawing another card.

Being a New Mutant was dangerous despite Rahne protesting they’d simply been students once upon a time. Being a mutant was dangerous — not that Julio’s life would’ve been devoid of danger without the presence of an X-gene anyways. His family was proof of that; every once in a while he would turn on the news to find another uncle dead or cousin in prison. But maybe, if he hadn’t been a mutant, Julio’s life wouldn’t have been as dangerous as it was now, and he’d have been relatively safe if he left his family behind.

It was a wonder Ben didn’t seem to grasp this fact.

Cowered in a corner, Ben had ducked from the fight as soon as — aliens? Maybe? Julio wasn’t sure, apparently demons were on the table too — swooped in, Cannonball having wits enough to mobilize the rest of them in some semblance of a formation. He tried to order Skids to watch over Ben, her ability more defensive than offensive, but she became preoccupied with her own skirmish before making it anywhere near the other.

Ben should’ve been able to handle himself. He should’ve been fighting with them, given his strength and agility. Instead, Julio watched from the corner of his eye as Ben was approached, cornered and frightened. A leftover remnant student who never learned to get with the times or leave the team.

No one noticed, except Julio, who remained occupied with his own issues. He could only watch in fragments, his own powers dampened unless he wanted to hinder his own team, as Ben continually threw sloppy punches. Any other time, Julio would have sneered at how terrible the swings were, but Ben’s inexperience might’ve genuinely caused his death this time around.

Julio managed a more concentrated blast at his enemy without rumbling the ground, ignoring the pang of guilt in his chest as he watched the creature fall to the ground, a coating of red where its arm had once been. At least the thing wasn’t human, but Ben’s agility could only allow him to dodge for so long and Julio wasn’t keen on mourning the thing for long.

Finally given a moment of reprieve, Julio rounded back to the corner Ben had been trapped in. Expecting to meet Ben plastered to a wall, instead he found the alien that had been pressing an assault, frozen. It was one of the more humanoid ones, offset by its gangly limbs and skin tinged orange, but it certainly passed as human from a distance.

Ben’s arm was through the creature, caked in blood that looked uncannily similar to a person’s. The thing slid off Ben with a tug to its shoulder, Julio allowing it to thunk on the ground in favor of watching Ben’s reaction at the noise. Julio could compartmentalize, had been doing so since he was ten and watched his father’s head get blown off, but Ben’s chest was beginning to move in the jerky motions that belied a panic attack.

Then Ben made a strangled noise as his face contorted. He still hadn’t lowered his arm nor removed his eyes from the gore stuck on it. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Please don’t do it on me.”

Julio turned to give Ben privacy as he hunched to the ground, aborted gagging noises quiet next to the sounds of the fights continuing nearby. Julio zoned in on the one that Skids continued to be occupied with, a creature railing against her force field with stronger intensity. This one was far less humanoid, something Julio had no qualms dealing with.

“Stay out of the way,” Julio tossed over his shoulder, hoping Ben would hear it over whatever issues he was having. He was safe, for the moment, and Julio had no desire to play babysitter for someone that proved they could take care of themselves.

He left Ben to the ground as he ran to Skids’ side. There were others Julio would always prioritize above him, and Ben was so squeamish he couldn’t even handle a little blood. It was a wonder why he was still with the New Mutants.

Just before they left Camp Verde behind, Julio decided to bite the bullet. Somehow, of them all, he had become the presence Shatterstar had begun to tolerate the most, but it often seemed like it was because he was the only one that let Shatterstar blast Yo-MTV. Or because Theresa had started heavily drinking again and it left Shatterstar exclusively seeking out Julio to answer his incessant questions that he already should've known the answer to. Not that Julio really minded, because at least Shatterstar had marginally gave up his pretense around Julio.

So when Shatterstar had set the TV to rotating at 30-second intervals (to give Julio at least a fighting chance to understand what they were watching) and asked another bizarre question, Julio finally snapped.

"Is it not sub-optimal to give someone flowers when it causes the plant's death? This seems like a perceived threat, not a confession of love."

Julio pressed fingers into his eyes and held them there for a long moment. Long enough that he could hear Shatterstar turn towards him in question at the silence. There was no getting around it at this point anymore, even if he’d gotten good at ignoring the obvious.

"Rictor—"

"You’re not Benjamin Russell.”

There was silence from Shatterstar's end again. Somewhere, Julio could've sworn he heard a clock tick, louder than the movie playing. And above it all, Shatterstar's voice: “That is the name I dislike.”

Julio wanted to punch him, being deliberately obtuse as Shatterstar was. Instead though, Julio just inhaled deeply. Counted to ten, like Jean taught him to do the umpteenth time he'd gone haywire and she didn't want to mentally sedate him again. Exhaled. Shatterstar had a reason to be hiding all this, it just remained to be seen if there were malicious intentions.

“No, I mean you’re someone else entirely." And finally Julio took his hand away, refusing to look at Shatterstar but letting his eyes catch on the way the TV's glow danced around the den. "I don’t know what Cable did to check you over, but he got it wrong.”

From beside him, the curtain of Shatterstar's hair shifted — he was still staring. Then, in a movement that Julio could at least see from the corner of his eye, Shatterstar's head cocked. “Lord Cable is a telepath. You may ask him about it, if you have your doubts.”

…Telepathic Cable. It certainly answered a couple questions.

But at that revelation, the ground opened up beneath Julio. Not literal, of course, but judging by the way the TV's reception went funny and the tremors beneath his feet, it was a damn close thing to happen in any second. Telepathy was one thing, despite Jean's promises that he was strangely resistant to most but her, but Cable was another level of worry. The man he half-despised, able to crawl into his head with Julio none the wiser. Able to see the thoughts even Julio didn't want to acknowledge.

Julio's voice pitched, high-strung and tinny. “He’s a telepath?”

“Were you not aware of this?”

No, he wasn't. And quite frankly, Julio didn't think anyone else knew either. On some level, it made sense: Cable was a mutant, yet had never shown his power before. But telepathy?

The ground was really rumbling beneath Julio's feet now.

"Rictor?"

Suddenly Shatterstar was in his face, a downturn to his brows that Julio might’ve labeled as outright concern on anyone else. On Shatterstar, it looked foreign. His plaits dusted Julio’s arm, and the feathery feeling was enough to jolt Julio to his feet, shoving Shatterstar away and quelling the rumble below from anything more than a gentle roll. Shatterstar had the grace not to fall over from the push, climbing to his feet to trail Julio to the door.

“I’m gone.”

Shatterstar continued to follow like an oversized duckling. “What?”

Julio didn’t elaborate. Instead, hissed out between breaths, he said, “Where’s Cable?”

The walls weren’t shaking yet, but it wouldn’t have been long before they did. At this rate, it might’ve been satisfactory to bring the whole building down if it meant Cable got crushed with him.

“Do you intend to harm Lord Cable?”

“Of course I intend to—” Julio stopped his pacing down the hallway, turning to jam a finger into Shatterstar’s chest. A pit of annoyance opened in him at the fact he had to crane his head up to stare at the other. “He’s a liar. A liar who kept something especially important from me, and he deserves to get decked right in the damn face for it! Never should’ve trusted him.”

Who cared if it was Stryfe who killed his father and not Cable? They were the same person at core, evidently. Cable knew Julio hated telepaths because he was a goddamn telepath!

“And stop calling him fucking ‘Lord’!”

As dust was just beginning to flake down from the roof, Shatterstar grabbed hold of Julio’s arm, a tight grip that Julio barely managed to notice before he was lifted, half-dragged to one of the base’s entrances. Julio wormed on instinct, throwing his weight in several directions in order to unbalance Shatterstar, and when that didn’t work, he grabbed at the hand on him, dumping a burst of vibrations into it. Julio was carefully to not hike the tempo too high, he didn’t want to shatter bone, but Shatterstar’s durability was better than most and he healed fast. He could suffer the loss of his hand for the day if it meant Julio freed himself.

“Let me go!” Julio crowed, hand over Shatterstar’s. But Shatterstar merely paused for a moment at Julio’s assault, each man stumbling into the sunlight outside that left Julio rapidly blinking the light from his eyes. Shatterstar’s grip hadn’t loosened — in fact, he continued to stare at Julio with a frown, fingers squeezing tighter around Julio’s bicep.

“I am accustomed to frequencies in my hands, for your future reference,” Shatterstar stated. The lackadaisical remark was stunning enough it threw Julio for a loop, a moment of hesitation before he parsed why. Then Julio was hauled higher into the air with the help of a second hand, and for a brief, terrifying second, he thought ‘Star was about to throw him.

His fear didn't come to fruition. Instead, Julio was manhandled from being able to resist against the ground, and while he wormed, Shatterstar continued to carry him until the Arizona sun was giving Julio a headache and the entrance of their base was a blip in the distance. Only past one of the larger mound structures and piles of rocks, did Julio find himself unceremoniously dumped to the ground. His breath left his lungs as he went face-first, unable to flip himself in time to avoid knocking his face into the earth below.

Maybe Julio did hate Shatterstar.

“Lay there. Jimmy informed me that dirt calms you.”

“Dirt?” Julio flipped over, hands digging below him to scratch into the earth, anger overridden by unbidden confusion. Right, dirt. Shatterstar had dropped him right on a clear patchy of orange soil, appearing untouched for decades. Julio was probably the first person to be encouraged to take a nap on it in over a millennia. “Madre de Dios, it’s not dirt ‘Star. It’s—”

Explaining the depth of fault lines to someone else wasn’t exactly feasible. That if Julio stopped to take in his surroundings, pressed to the earth like it was his own mother, he heard them talk, a constant shift: a push and pull. Sometimes, if he laid there long enough, he could even hear the whispers of a bush taking from the earth below. Or the life of a dying shrub, beginning to fade. The little things that grounded Julio more naturally than any breathing exercise Jean Grey could impart on him.

Fight drained, Julio flopped back, dust puffing up around him. If Shatterstar noticed the way Julio wormed himself deeper into the pile, he didn’t mention it, instead passively staring as he continued to shadow above. He was useful for blocking the sun, if nothing else.

There was a lapse, the wind of the Arizona desert and the shifting fault lines ringing in Julio’s ears as the only noise for miles. Ever so slowly, in an awkward start, Shatterstar’s voice rung louder, in Spanish, more gravelly than the dirt pressed against Julio’s cheek.

“You shouldn’t kill Cable.”

Julio closed his eyes. Staring at the sun behind Shatterstar’s head made him feel queezy in a way it didn’t when it illuminated Sam or Tabs. “I wasn’t gonna kill him. Just let him have a piece of my mind.”

Another long pause, where Shatterstar evidently shifted because suddenly the sun was on Julio’s face, and he slapped an arm across his eyes to avoid it. Killing Cable sounded appealing, but with the fight draining from Julio, now he was just — tired. Left wishing the bastard would just drop dead himself while Julio didn’t have to lift a finger.

He was tired of it all. The feeling never quite went away.

"Do you want to be left here?”

Julio knocked his foot into Shatterstar’s ankle, enough force to showcase his request. “Nah, just stay standing in front of the sun for me. To your left. Thanks.”

They stayed that way, even as the sky turned orange, a shade darker than Shatterstar’s hair, and his shoulders seared a red that managed to repair itself the moment the sun sank down. The air was warm and the earth was talkative and Julio was, perhaps, as calm as he’d ever allow himself to be.

Though at the end of it all, Shatterstar had managed to avoid Julio's original accusation. Julio huffed a laugh into the dirt below at the sneaky ploy. Maybe later, he’d rehash the question. After he punched Cable.

Sometimes, Julio thought about his mom.

He'd call her, on occasion, and supposedly she sent him emails. But with how often the New Mutants moved around, he wasn't often afforded the luxury of checking it. And regardless, each call was filled with nothing but lies and half-truths to keep her from worrying.

What was he up to last week? Definitely not in Hel, just playing video games with his friends! Did he have a girlfriend yet? Working on it, mom! Was he happy? Of course mom, I didn't try to drop myself off a floating walkway a while ago or beg X-Factor to off me so I didn't have to do it myself! Placating replies, the little things that created the illusion of normalcy.

He didn't worry her with the more concerning parts of his life, and she didn't mention the family business. Once or twice, she'd inform him a new cousin had been arrested, and Julio gave his condolences and didn't bring up the subject again. They both knew better than to linger on the topic.

Julio was lucky, he knew. Not all mutants got to have a doting mother like he did, or even a family that didn't quite shun him for his powers. It was other reasons that drove him away, like they did for Sam, a responsibility Julio didn't want. But he knew better than to bring up the subject to someone like Rahne, even if she understood what it was like to have a mother that wasn't related by blood.

He had no such reservations about Ben.

"What's your story?"

Ben glanced up from where he'd been playing chess with Warlock, pieces a confusing jumble because they were all a coated yellow-black with circuitry. "Huh?"

Then there was a shifting of said circuity as the board game disappeared and Warlock reformed into something a little more humanoid. Two large, imposing eyes surveyed them both. "QUERY: Story = tale of events. Depicted fictional or real, SELFRIENDS."

"Thanks, Warlock." Julio carefully pat what might've been Warlock's hand. Then, to Ben, he said, "You don't seem the type to have a tragic backstory. Why do you never call your parents?"

Most of the New Mutants had a system to cycle who got access to any phone they found. Aside from Warlock, they all took advantage of it. Except Ben, too. The thought had bothered Julio more than he liked.

For a moment, Ben didn't answer, only sat back more comfortably in his chair and stared at Julio. It was unnerving, Julio unused to the way Ben's expression crumpled, and he almost regretted asking. Almost.

But then Ben's head moved to the side, away from Julio. His shoulders fell as he spoke. "My dad's not around, don’t know anything about him, and my mom knows where to find me if she wants to talk."

"Oh." It was the first news Julio had received that painted Ben as not so picture-perfect. And it explained why he was never vying for the phone nor having to wrestle it away from Roberto on the more clamorous days. The regret really was settling in, then. "Didn't know."

Ben waved him off, a wistful smile settling on his features as his gaze went distant. Like he was somewhere else, not with the teammate who hated him. "It's fine. I lived on and off with my grandparents growing up, my mom takes messages to them whenever I see her."

Yet something bothered Julio about it all, drowning out the awkward shame. Maybe it was the fact that he'd never heard mention of Ben's mother before. Maybe it was that Ben not having a perfect life was so foreign of a concept. Maybe he was just jealous that despite Ben's life having a hiccup in it, it was still better than Julio's. “Must've been a while since you last saw her, then.”

"No, I saw her last week."

Warlock's mass of techno-organic circuity shifted again, this time reappearing behind Ben's shoulder. A hand-like appendage appeared too, like he was holding up a finger. "QUERY: New Mutants. LOCATION: Hel. TIME: Previous Week. QUERY."

Ben's shoulders went taut and Julio narrowed his eyes.

"Uhm," and if Julio would say so, Ben was suddenly nervous, a twitch to his fingers as he refused to meet his nor Warlock's eyes. "Sorry I meant, like, before that. Yeah."

Julio arched an eyebrow. "So how exactly is it that your mom knows where to find you, when—"

Just as quickly, Ben rose from his seat, a fluid motion that pushed Warlock away as his expression shut down and he cut Julio off. "I'd rather not talk about this, Rictor."

Deflection. Julio couldn’t help the glare he developed.

"Whatever. Sorry for trying to be nice." The scoff Julio added wasn't necessary, but it made him feel marginally better, especially when Ben knocked against his shoulder on his way to escape. A terse look was given to him when Julio grumbled at the impact.

"You know as well as I do that you weren't trying to be nice."

New York provided more opportunities for entertainment than Camp Verde did. Sure, the sands of Arizona were gorgeous, but ever since Julio first marveled at the sights of New York while helping Rusty and Skids unfreeze a park, he’d never tired of the city. So many sights and sounds and people, it wasn’t a shock that Shatterstar often refused to leave the confines of Murderworld with everyone else. He was a recluse through-and-through, and according to him, his enhanced senses made the city hard to bear amid it all.

The clubs were a bonus too, now that Julio was old enough to legally enter them. And it helped he’d practiced dancing in the few years in between, now he didn’t have to embarrass himself in front of others when he was finally of legal age.

Den devoid of entertainment save a chattering television, Julio occupied himself with subtly staring at the curtain of orange next to him. Shatterstar had gotten better about wearing normal clothes, but he still refused to crop his hair even an inch shorter despite the liability it was during a fight. For someone so forward and matter-of-fact, especially about battle, this one trait of Shatterstar’s never made sense. Not that Julio was complaining: Shatterstar’s hair suited him, even if it invited certain insults that made Julio queasy and, more than once, he attempted to defend Shatterstar’s honor.

“Hey. Do you still not know how to dance?”

Shatterstar’s brows furrowed, Julio distracting him long enough that his head craned in the other’s direction. The TV whirred methodically in the background, momentarily forgotten by both.

“I know how to dance. The walnut and others, to name.”

“The waltz?” Julio laughed. Frankly, it was a miracle no one else believed Julio yet about Shatterstar. Catching Shatterstar on his lies, though, seemed equally as amusing.

“Yes, that.”

Shatterstar turned away, dropping the conversation without covering his slip-up. The silence held, a precious line while Julio waited for Shatterstar to cross it. Ask another question, defend himself, as anyone else would. He didn’t, of course, but Julio was conditioned to let the moment pass.

So after, when Shatterstar didn’t take the opportunity, Julio continued, “You ever learn how to dance like at a club?”

Shatterstar watched Julio from the corner of his eye. Julio smiled back.

“…Yes.”

It was a blatant lie. Julio’s grin grew.

“Cool. How about you make up on some lost time and we go to one? The night is young and all that.” And before Shatterstar could protest, Julio was tugging him to his feet, eased by the fact Shatterstar weighed half the weight of a normal man despite his size. At some point, Shatterstar had gotten comfortable with Julio touching him, and Julio was all for taking advantage of it, pulling the other around at whim. Like now, to force him out of base for a reason that wasn’t a mission or shopping.

“Rictor, I don’t believe that’s a wise—”

“You look fine, like a rockstar as usual,” Julio tugged at the offending rockstar hair in question, a single braid Shatterstar had in while the rest of it remained down, framing his back. “You’re lucky I bailed on Tabs earlier, otherwise you’d need to wait while I found something to change into.”

“Julio—”

That was new. Although Julio had admitted his legal name to the team weeks ago, he, nor anyone else, had yet to use it. Julio didn’t let it effect him much, though he couldn’t help the genuine smile that tugged on his lips from it. “C’mon. Ben wouldn’t turn this down.”

Really, it was embarrassing how obvious Shatterstar was. His shoulders squared, determination settling on his features at Julio’s challenge. He had to prove he was Ben, or something to that effect. Julio tried not to laugh at the thought.

Everyone else was an idiot, that had to be the best explanation for why Julio was the odd one out.

Eventually, Julio dragged Shatterstar out of base, through the underground metro, and successfully avoided Shatterstar attempting to stab anyone who got too close. Coaching him on how to act was the hardest part of their journey, but eventually Shatterstar acquiesced to not reacting violently if someone randomly touched him. With great reluctance.

By the way Shatterstar flinched at the flashing lights and a brush of shoulders though, the promise didn’t do much. They’d managed to get inside on club without incident — Shatterstar barely matching Ben’s old id was always an issue, but no one ever questioned his age when it came down to it. However, Shatterstar became a locked-up ball of tension not far into the door, and Julio had to raise his voice in order to catch the other’s attention.

“First time?”

Shatterstar hesitated, like he was unsure of his own memories. Eventually, he spoke over the music. “It reminds me of Mojoworld. Many lights. Many stares.”

“The stares are just because you stick out.” In a good way, Julio didn’t add. He was here to get drunk and dance with girls, not stare at his definitely-bodysnatching-alien teammate.

So Julio lightly pat Shatterstar on the shoulder before slinking into the crowd. Drinks were a priority, because Shatterstar really needed to loosen up or else they’d get nowhere. And of course, Shatterstar was still standing near the entrance, dumbfounded even though Julio had witnessed several women attempt to talk to him in the time it took Julio to buy two drinks, when Julio waltzed back to his side. The women, at least, scattered when Julio grabbed Shatterstar’s attention once more. Julio tried not to let that sully his mood.

“Here, drink this,” Julio handed off a glass and watched in amusement at the way Shatterstar’s expression soured after sniffing near the liquid.

“This smells like poison.”

Julio couldn’t help but laugh, loosened by the way he’d already downed half his own drink on the way over. Being drunk sounded like a great idea right around then. “I think it, like, technically is a poison by definition. You have to moderate it, though I don’t know if it’ll work with your healing factor.”

Then, to punctuate his point, Julio downed the last of his glass, giving Shatterstar a wide grin and lifting his hands to show he hadn’t dropped dead from the drink. Shatterstar took another sniff, nose wrinkled in distaste, before he followed Julio’s lead, craning his head back as he downed the entire glass in one go. Julio trained on a point behind Shatterstar’s head rather than look at the length of his throat and the way it moved.

Shatterstar coughed only once, which Julio had to give him credit for, before saying, “This is disgusting.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Julio knocked his shoulder into Shatterstar’s, playful and grinning. “Man, we really didn’t need to be drinking those like shots. Do you want to try shots? Easier to avoid the taste than sipping on something.”

Shatterstar busied himself with watching the way the crowd moved after passing off his glass to Julio, never lingering on one person for long. After a beat, where the music lulled into something Julio recognized as a Dazzler song, Shatterstar ignored Julio’s question and instead asked, “What is it we do here?”

“Drink, socialize. You could just go up and dance with some girl if you want. I count at least four watching you like a piece of meat right now.” Julio wasn’t exaggerating — sometimes it was infuriating how much attention Shatterstar effortlessly garnered. If he didn’t have a permanent scowl at the moment, Julio didn’t doubt a flock would’ve appeared again.

“But I do not want to dance with some girl,” Shatterstar’s attention turned back to Julio, piercing in a way that made Julio want to hide within the crowd. Shatterstar could have the focus on anyone, and here he was still staring at Julio like an animal to be dissected.

His mouth was dry. Julio tipped his drink again to sip at before coming up empty. Unable to hide behind the glass’ rim, he instead turned to face the crowd once more. In order to distract himself, or maybe them both, Julio said, “Ben used to.”

Shatterstar’s eyes flashed again, like he was considering the challenge as he always did when provoked. But his frown only deepened, a stilted tone to his words. “I do not want to. I’d like to go home. It is too loud and the poison tastes terrible.”

All that, just for them to turn in with their tails between their legs after a single drink. Julio was tempted to stay by himself — it had been too long since he got to cut loose away from X-Force — but Shatterstar seemed spooked. He continued to be taut with tension, pressing in closer to Julio’s side every time someone so much as brushed him. And as much as Julio pretended otherwise, his guilt wracked high when it came to Shatterstar, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to repair at least one issue he caused.

So Julio sighed, shuffling to bring Shatterstar along as he found an empty place to deposit their glasses. Trying to fight his way back to the bar when he didn’t intend to get anything else was a moot point. “Alright, fine. Short trip, but at least you tried it out.”

Julio tried not to show his own trepidation on his face. He could’ve thrown himself at a girl to forget the strange feeling in his chest, but a swift hand pressing between Julio’s shoulder blades kept him from turning back. It did not disappear until they were out the doors.

Evidently, as they breached the night air and the bass of the club was no longer pounding beneath their skin, Julio had deflated because Shatterstar was in his space more than necessary as they walked. Furtive glances kept being shot at him, before finally Shatterstar spoke.

“Thank you for trying to bring me along. Even though I did not enjoy it and tried to stop you earlier.”

“You have a weird way of expressing gratitude, man.”

“It’s the truth.”

After, the walk back to Murderworld was surprisingly quiet. Julio routed them to avoid any other clubs despite the danger a lack of people provided at night. Julio was confident with the Earth thrumming beneath his feet and Shatterstar at his side that very little could happen, barring the Fantastic Four barreling into them. Mostly because of ‘Star though. Even without his weapons, his lethality remained, as Julio had seen demonstrated one too many times. The thought was a little thrilling.

Not far from one of the underground subway entrances, Shatterstar cleared his throat, a flitting expression cycling across his face. Julio couldn’t name half the emotions.

“I don’t understand,” Shatterstar paused as swiftly as he started, nails digging into his own arms, before adding through gritted teeth, “anymore. Many of these activities you and the others enjoy, I do not understand — anymore — why you enjoy these things.”

A lie undercurrented the statement, but Julio ignored it. Shatterstar appeared genuine about the rest.

“I’m gonna need an example. The club?”

Shatterstar nodded, but did not elaborate further. Was it being in a crowd? The loud music? The alcohol? Dancing with strangers? The last part Shatterstar hadn’t even done despite Julio’s best efforts, but his distaste was evident.

Julio operated off the assumption it was all of the above. It probably was, given Shatterstar’s peculiarities. “I dunno. I like knowing people are into me, clubs help with that. And drinking loosens a lot of my issues up. Some people just like being social, talking to strangers.”

Quiet again, Shatterstar ruminated for a moment. Then, softly, with his nails stuck so hard into one of his biceps that Julio watched with gnawing dread as blood beaded up, “I may be lacking in human capacities since my time in Mojoworld.”

Or lacking his entire life. Julio did not broach the subject about Shatterstar’s body-snatching again, but the temptation was there, just to see if he could glean the truth. Instead, he pried Shatterstar’s hand away from his bicep, watching as the crescents healed as quickly as Shatterstar had created them.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Everyone has their preferences, you’re just on a team with a bunch of party-goers. Should have you meet Rahne, she would agree with you about all this.”

Shatterstar’s face scrunched up, in the way it sometimes did whenever he was blatantly recalling something from Ben’s past. Julio still hadn’t a clue how that worked.

“I have… met Rahne.”

Sighing, Julio released Shatterstar’s hand and directed them towards the stairs down into the subway. What a pair those two would make, opposing personalities or not. “Right, sure you have. Let’s get back already, yeah? And watch your nails, you were hurting yourself.”

“The body will recover.”

The statement sounded alarmingly similar to Julio’s own thoughts, compounded from his worst moments during his days with X-Factor. So before Shatterstar wrapped his hand back around his arm and did more damage, Julio took hold of his wrist once more. Just to be safe, Julio told himself.

Shatterstar didn’t try to break his hold the entire ride back to Murderworld. Only when they slipped back in, sneaking through the entrance that was interrupted by Domino lurking against a far wall, did Julio let go. An unknown fear iced Julio’s veins, awash so thoroughly that Shatterstar did a double-take towards him.

“Shatty,” Domino greeted, tipping her head. Then, after snatching hold of Julio before he could pass too, “I’m borrowing Rictor.”

Without another word, Domino dragged Julio into an off-shoot room, one of the ones yet to be converted into anything useful because of its odd size. Too small for a full room, too large to serve as a proper storage closet. For the moment, all it held was a stack of romance novels that Jimmy swore were Theresa’s and not his, and some saw contraption that Julio chose to believe was rusted and not crusted with something else.

Domino leveled a flat stare, arms crossed the moment she released Julio. Despite the obvious appearance differences, she looked just like Julio’s mother, waiting for him to admit he was the one who ate the last cookie. “Well?”

“Well what?” Julio resisted the urge to bristle, his heart pounding. As far as teammates went, Domino was one of his favorites because she tended to mind her own business. But anything to do with Shatterstar was often a special case that she’d involve herself in. There were two routes their conversation was wont to go, and Julio dreaded one more than the other. The palm of his hand burned like an identifying brand.

“Are you going to ask me who Shatterstar is? I know you won’t ask Cable.”

Julio shuffled on the balls of his feet, a brief sigh of relief that her choice was of the safe topic. Of course Domino knew about that. If not Cable outright telling her, she was the most likely to catch the man in his lies. And Julio gave her some credit — he’d have thought lesser of her if she hadn’t picked up by this point that Shatterstar himself was lying too. He was far, far more obvious about it than Cable.

“Why would I ask? I know he’s not Ben, not that you’ll admit it.”

“Keen. That’s good.” Domino’s stance dropped, and she moved towards the door, patting Julio on the shoulder as she went. “We never had this conversation. He is Benjamin Russell, end of story.”

“Whatever. Can you at least get him to stop pretending around me? It’s annoying.”

Domino gave him a sly smile, hand on the door frame. Over her shoulder, as she slipped out, she added, “He’s not pretending about everything, Ric.”

Julio never hears about Benjamin Russell's disappearance from under Cable's nose. It wouldn't have mattered to him, regardless.

Bolstered by his conversation with Domino, Julio brokered the subject with Shatterstar once more.

At some point, Julio had elected to room with ‘Star after one too many traps in Murderworld almost killed him in the night. Mostly because the other was surprisingly adept at disabling them, but also the only solo room available was half a mile underground walk through a maze to the nearest bathroom. So after one mishap where Julio got shot with a poison dart, rooming with Shatterstar it was. Not that it was a bad option — he could’ve been stuck with Tabs.

Even though Shatterstar had been making strides in being, well, not so alien, his routine remained wildly predictable. Wake before sunlight, train for hours, run exercises with the team when Cable demanded, and wind down with television. Sometimes, every other day, he’d settle with the team for dinner, but according to Shatterstar, he didn’t need to eat every day. Or sleep much — Julio had stumbled out around midnight more than once to find Shatterstar awake, face lit with the blue glow of a screen and having yet to have gone to sleep.

During this routine, in the lull between Shatterstar’s training and television where he liked to shower and spend an obscene amount of time on his hair in their room, Julio caught him. It ensured they were alone and Julio wasn’t tempted to fall asleep mid-conversation.

Laid out flat on his bed, face cast to the metallic ceiling above, Julio started with, “I was serious.”

The rhythmic sound of Shatterstar braiding his hair paused. “And now you are no longer serious?”

For a second, Julio wanted to ring his neck, but there was a good chance Shatterstar was earnest. Julio never quite knew when it came to the other. So instead, he clarified, “I know you’re not Ben, even if you look the same and know things. You’re too different.”

Julio rolled onto his side, eyeing Shatterstar as he tucked an arm neatly under his head. The other’s hands remained frozen for half a second as he returned Julio’s stare before he slowly continued his braiding. Left-over, right-over, a shuffle of the strands passed between fingers with a lifetime of practice. Shatterstar continued to stare at Julio without breaking his concentration.

“Is it not feasible to believe my time on Mojoworld changed me?”

Julio narrowed his eyes. Shatterstar’s habit of being unable to maintain eye contact when he lied, or when he was intentionally avoiding something, remained intact. “Sure, but you’re a terrible liar and Cable keeps covering for you whenever you do it.”

“Hm.” And then, with Shatterstar turning away, “I don’t care what you think.”

Another lie. Shatterstar continued to refuse to meet Julio’s eyes.

“Alright.” Julio grinned to no one, aware of how Shatterstar was no longer watching him. If Shatterstar wanted to play a game, Julio could keep pace. “Hey, how’s your mom?”

Shatterstar froze. For a man who always picked ‘fight’ when it came to ‘fight or flight’, he looked precariously close to bolting, held back only by his pride.

Julio continued on, stifling a laugh. While he’d never figured out the mystery about Ben’s background, Shatterstar surely would’ve been raised different, had another set of parents. If he could just catch Shatterstar on something blatant while he confused his own story, Julio would be satisfied. “She still visit you? You never did explain how she always found you when the New Mutants moved around. A tracking power?”

“Something like that,” the reply was more muffled than Julio had ever heard from the other before, delayed after a lapsed beat. Julio could admit he was curious about Ben’s parents, most mutants didn’t also have mutant parents, but he had other priorities.

“We’re friends now, right?” Shatterstar grunted in response; Julio pretended he didn’t hear the dismissive noise. “I feel a little left out that you never talk about your parents.”

“If you are insistent,” finally, Shatterstar shifted to openly stare at Julio. He’d moved onto his second braid, annoyance clear in the tension in his shoulders and jerky hand movements, “it is easier for me to talk about my father. I know of him better.”

There. Julio bared his teeth, not entirely of mirth, a wide smile as he propped his head up on a hand. That was the opening he needed.

“That’s interesting. Ben didn’t know his father.”

“Fekt!” Suddenly Shatterstar dropped his half-finished braid, jumping to his feet as he fumed. Julio jolted, just a little, at the sudden motion. Shatterstar glared with the force of the sun, but Julio continued to smile, satisfaction overwhelming a current of fear. “Verbal wits are cowardly, you sprint loops around me. If you are that determined, I will gladly face you in physical combat to settle—”

"'Star!" As Shatterstar reached for one of his swords, Julio finally sat up, frantic. "I don't care if you're not him, I just wanted the truth. You’re different from Cable.”

Then, when Shatterstar hesitated but continued to consider the sword his fingers lingered on, Julio added, “Please put the sword down. I’m only trying to prove a point, not fight you.”

A pregnant pause lapsed, one in which Julio held his breath because he really didn’t want to be stabbed and dropping Shatterstar into the center of the Earth, even in self defense, seemed dickish. But, eventually, Shatterstar drew his arm back, slowly moving to sit back down while his gaze never left Julio. He remained tightly coiled, ready to bolt (or maybe stab Julio), a ruffled and cornered animal.

Finally, in a moment where Shatterstar shuffled closer to where his swords rested, he said, “You invite fights often. It is cowardly to back from them.”

Shatterstar had Julio there, he did enjoy egging others on. But a beat later while Julio was lost for words, in which Shatterstar inclined his head, unblinking in the odd way he often did, he added, “Would you be upset if Benjamin Russell was canceled — dead?”

Julio's lips curled again, a facsimile of a laugh trapped behind them. Could Shatterstar never tell Julio couldn't stand Ben?

"No. Though I think I'd be upset if you died."

Shatterstar considered this, staring at Julio with such open wonder that it made Julio’s face heat and he distracted himself with picking at a loose thread on his jeans. Suddenly, the conversation that loomed was more daunting then finally calling Shatterstar on his lie.

“I am not Benjamin Russell.”

Julio rolled his eyes, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. About time Shatterstar admitted it. “Yeah, I know that. Known, for like, weeks. Everyone else is just blind.”

“The senses of our teammates are adequate. In fact, Jimmy is quite proficient in—”

“Hyperbole, ‘Star.” Then, leaning forward, Julio said, “Hey, is Shatterstar your actual name?”

As far as names went, Shatterstar was weird. Not that ‘Star himself wasn’t weird too, and Julio happened to make earthquakes when his surname was Richter which was the universe’s attempt at irony, but he expected an alien’s name to be more foreign. Not two English words slapped together.

Surprisingly, Shatterstar proved Julio right. He dithered a second, face twisting in what Julio took to mean as discontent before he elaborated. He looked ready to choke on his tongue, either from the truth or his distaste for his real name. “A stage-name, but I prefer it. Gaveedra-Seven was my designation before I was labeled Shatterstar.”

More believable than Shatterstar, but the random English was present in his other name too. Julio raised an eyebrow. He probably should’ve paid more attention to Domino’s explanation on the Mojoverse that one time.

"Weird."

Shatterstar, at least, didn’t seem too offended. "To me, human names are weird."

While on a roll, because it wasn’t every day you talked to a body-snatching alien, only shape-shifting ones like Skrulls, Julio continued, “Is this body any different from your old one?”

Shatterstar appeared perplexed by the question. Julio couldn’t help the way he ran wild with the thought of Shatterstar’s actual appearance — he definitely had a star on his face too, why else would he have added it to Ben’s body? And the same long hair, though a different color. Shatterstar was too meticulous about his braids for it to be something new. But maybe he was blue, like most Kree? Or maybe he was bird-based like the Shi’ar. Julio didn’t have a lot of experience with aliens, so his imagination was rather paltry, but he had the foundations.

“Of course not.” And when Julio made a gesture for Shatterstar to continue, his visible confusion only deepened as he regarded Julio. “You misunderstand the nature of my relationship to Benjamin.”

He was definitely blue, Julio decided. But if he was offered a straight answer about Ben, he’d take it that too. “Then explain it. Is Ben dead?”

Shatterstar shifted in place, clearly uncomfortable with the question. He eyed the door, once, before he turned back to Julio, expression cooled. Whatever the full story was, it put Shatterstar on edge. “There is not a monochrome answer to that.”

Monochrome? It took a moment to parse the phrase, before Julio settled on the idea that Shatterstar meant black-and-white. And he still appeared ready to bolt — Julio was up and clambering over to Shatterstar’s side of the room, between him and the door, as insurance in the instance Shatterstar did try to leave. Not that Julio was particularly keen to stop him, but he finally had Shatterstar admitting the truth and he wasn’t above dragging ‘Star back for more answers.

Smoothing down the sheet to Shatterstar’s bed, some distance between them so Julio could at least pretend they were impersonal if someone decided to knock down their door, Julio said, “Okay, then explain it to me as you know it.”

Again, Shatterstar hesitated. Julio regretted, just a bit, pressing for so much information so fast. But then: “He is me. I am not quite him, but he is certainly me now. His body was the same as my own.”

Julio’s head hurt. None of that made sense.

Shatterstar’s stare was open and expectant, and Julio didn’t have the heart to tell him that he practically spoke in riddles. So instead, Julio drew a leg up onto the bed to lean his head against and said, “Nevermind. Explain it to me how you think I’ll understand it.”

“You should have let me do that the first time.” It remained fascinating how Shatterstar would let certain emotions openly display on his face, namely tinges of annoyance as he appeared now, yet he became shuttered when it came to anything positive. Although, Julio was thankful at the way Shatterstar only frowned in irritation now, not outright anger.

“Benjamin,” Shatterstar started, “was an anomaly that should not exist, a copy of me which made him fascinating to Mojo. He was brought in for entertainment, slipped through time to match my era because I am also not from when I should have been, but he was engineered with a failsafe.”

Engineered? Julio was tempted to interrupt, but Shatterstar was on a tirade, talking more than Julio had ever seen before. His explanation still left much to be desired, but it was marginally easier to follow than the last.

“Spiral—” thank god, Julio knew that name at least. Domino’s lectures did pay off, though it didn’t take much to remember the six-armed woman who dimensionally traveled and body-modded people, “—had loved him as a mother. She had placed the failsafe, so he could not be used as entertainment for Mojo. He shut down when brought to Mojoworld, an unrepairable doll.”

Shatterstar waited patiently as Julio perked up, eyeing Shatterstar up and down. He wasn’t lying, not once in his statements. His story was a jumble, but with inclusion of Spiral — it all clicked. If Ben’s mother had been Spiral, it explained how he ended up in their dimension if he was some sort of clone. Or something. But so much for the idea of Shatterstar being identifiably alien outside of Ben’s body, they’d probably looked the exact same. Shatterstar implied as much.

Julio stared at the details of Shatterstar’s tattoo, how rich the color was that belied it as not ink beneath the skin. He’d definitely done something more to Ben, or the transfer had done something. “So how’d you end up in his body? That’s what happened, right?”

“An injury to myself. The Cadre can move bodies if done correctly, and I am the same as Benjamin in particular. Spiral was willing to see Ben alive again in some form, even if his memories would have little effect on me, so she provided him.” Shatterstar’s hand, unbidden, moved to clutch at the side of his chest, where the star emblem he normally wore would’ve been. Julio dared not interrupt yet. “Afterwards, I did not lie to Cable about my intentions. I wish to bring aid back to the Cadre Alliance, but I was not aware of how much lying I would have to do about my appearance.”

And Julio thought his life was ridiculous. The knowledge that Shatterstar was almost exactly human was more disappointing than Julio thought it’d be. In some ways, though, the explanation that the Cadre didn’t always die with their deaths explained much of Shatterstar’s actions the past few months. “So, this is some type of multiverse copy situation? Or Ben was a clone?”

Shatterstar shrugged. “I don’t know. I was informed by Cable I am not supposed to have alternate selves because I originate from the Mojoverse, and Spiral was not very forthcoming. We avoid conversation, she and I.”

The answer was flat, though Julio wouldn’t want to find out if he was a clone or not either. Maybe sometimes it was better to let sleeping dogs lie when you’ve died and come back to life in the body of someone who looked exactly like you. So instead he asked, “Why’d you hide all this?”

Shatterstar, at least, appeared to have relaxed. He no longer held himself with tension, and had twisted himself to angle closer to Julio. But by the way he tugged at his one finished plait, he was nervous, an identifying tick Julio picked up on recently. “Easier. In a way, your Benjamin Russell is dead and I parade him around. I assumed this would not have been taken positively, and Cable agreed.”

Julio snorted. “Yeah, ‘Star, easier doesn’t mean better. It’s really obvious you’re not who you say you are.”

“I am not obvious.”

There was a pout from Shatterstar — Julio grinned despite himself. He was tempted to start listing everything he’d compiled in his head, but instead he found himself saying, “If you dropped the act, you’d fit in better. Learn more about humanity. I’d prefer to know you and your story over pretending you’re some kid from Boston.”

Shatterstar took his suggestion with a solemn expression, nodding along. “I will discuss it with Lord Cable. But if we are alone, I will not pretend around you.”

“You really need to knock off calling anyone ‘Lord’, it gives you away.” Tension having lightened considerably, Julio attempted a playful flick to Shatterstar’s shoulder. The other jolted at the contact, but otherwise made no move to stab Julio in retaliation, so Julio considered it a win. If Shatterstar had truly hated it, he could have used his powers to dodge away regardless.

Julio paused at the thought, hand still outstretched. If Ben originated from the Mojoverse technically, what did that mean for his abilities? For Shatterstar’s? His eclectic set of powers being of otherworldly origin made more sense than that of the X-gene providing everything.

Julio questioned as much. “Are you really a mutant, then? Ben mentioned he had his powers from birth unlike most mutants.”

Shatterstar’s head cocked to the side, a survey of Julio in return. After a moment, he batted Julio’s hand away from him, a brief jolt of electricity that Julio would’ve chalked up to his imagination if he hadn’t seen a crackle of blue light lingering after. Less and less, Julio understood the extent of Shatterstar’s powers.

“I don’t know. There’s many things I don’t know about my own past, much less Benjamin’s. I am only happy to no longer be entertainment for Mojo. Cable does not care what I am.”

In a world where distinctions mattered, on either side of the isle, Julio did not envy Shatterstar’s position. Rather than let Shatterstar wallow though — if he was even capable of that — Julio said, “I don’t either, for the record. Care what you are.”

Julio had, several times, witnessed Ben smile. Meek when from a compliment (never Julio’s), wide with laughter, and sharp when he was trying to get something from someone. Shatterstar’s, Julio’d never seen beyond bloodstained, feral lips that curled in the middle of a fight. Evidently though, Shatterstar was capable of something entirely different from Ben. From the way the corners of his mouths tilted up then, so subtle that without the crinkle of his eyes Julio would’ve written it off as something else entirely, he looked happy.

Julio tamped down on the fuzzy feeling in his chest before he embarrassed himself further.

A tentative smile met Shatterstar’s own. “Revelations aside, you want to start asking me those questions about Earth I know you’ve been dying to get answers to?”

“Yes.” Shatterstar nodded, several more times he needed to, enthusiastic. Julio stifled a laugh. “What does that hand gesture Roberto makes mean?”

To demonstrate, before Julio asked, Shatterstar puffed out one cheek and put a fist next to his mouth, punctuated with a jerking motion. His wide-eyed, earnest expression was a stark contrast to the incredibly lewd gesture he mimicked with ease. Damn Bobby.

Julio put his face in his hands to hide the way his face had flamed red.

“How about you ask something else first and then I’ll get back to that one.”

Julio would be lying if he said much changed after his conversation with Shatterstar.

Shatterstar remained as weird as ever and no one else thought much different. The only variation was, aside from Shatterstar now being glued to Julio’s side frequently, he would also unload a flurry of questions when they were alone. And sometimes, Julio did the same. It started small.

After one too many times of Shatterstar’s hair ending up in Julio’s mouth after falling asleep on the couch together, Julio finally asked, “What’s with the hair length? Ben kept his pretty short.”

“I like it,” was Shatterstar’s ensuing answer. Julio took him at his word.

Then, later, when Tabs was bored out of her mind and tried to convince Shatterstar to let her doll him up, Julio rescued him from her lie that eyeliner had become popular on men in the time he was in Mojoworld. He poked at the make-up blush he hadn’t managed to prevent from being applied in time, and started scrubbing with a washcloth long after. Shatterstar sat patiently while Julio worked.

Eventually, when the dusting of make-up disappeared into skin raised red from the pressure of his scrubbing, which Julio didn’t realize for a full minute, he distracted himself. “Hey, is your star a tattoo?”

“Perhaps. I have had it as long as I can remember.” Unbidden, Julio passed his thumb over the bottom point of the star, where it remained an inky black, unfaded like a tattoo would. Shatterstar only blinked down at him. “Although, it is a symbol of the Cadre. I don’t know why Spiral was not ordered to remove it from me while I was in the arena.”

Julio pulled his hand away, dropping the sodden washcloth into the sink below. “Yeah, but why does Ben’s body have it?”

“We merged. I am grateful I did not have to grow my hair out again.”

Shatterstar left it at that, and Julio accepted the odd answer. Nothing much ever made sense about ‘Star anyways.

After, when someone finally had the bright idea to introduce Shatterstar to reality TV in the den one night, the reaction was opposite to the team’s expectations.

“Turn it off,” Shatterstar hissed, scrambling to shove Sam out of the way and fight Jimmy for the remote. Julio had only just walked into the room, taking a survey of some catfight reality show taking place while Tabs talked inbetween, when Shatterstar became a flurry of spitfire and claws. He barely managed to lock an arm around Shatterstar’s neck and pull him away from the others before an elbow socked him right in the nose and he doubled over.

The pain was enough. Shatterstar halted, twisting out of the loose grip Julio left on his shirt to stare down at him. “Julio—”

“Fuck,” Julio spit under his breath, holding his face with a hand and pulling Shatterstar along with him using the other. He couldn’t meet the bemused eyes of their teammates as he whisked Shatterstar from the room, down the twisting turns of Murderworld until they were in their shared bedroom.

He rubbed at his nose absentmindedly while he shut the door. Nothing felt broken, and Shatterstar at least had the courtesy to look apologetic for hitting him, but damn if it didn’t hurt. At least it meant Shatterstar had been pulling his punches on the others, or else Julio might’ve been dead from that hit.

So Julio rounded on Shatterstar, attempting to channel his best Domino impression and failing miserably as he continued to poke at the bridge of his nose. “Dude, what was that? I thought you liked TV.”

Shatterstar shifted in place, bringing up a hand to hover in front of Julio’s face before the latter batted it away, grumbling. No way Julio was letting Shatterstar do more damage.

“I learn much from your static entertainment, but Theresa explained that these programs are — almost live, intentionally framed for the enjoyment of a real person’s misery.”

“Uh, yeah, but they’re usually getting paid or like the attention. I don’t care for reality shows either, we can watch something else.”

Shatterstar’s face twisted into blatant distress at Julio’s words. He tugged at a plait, turned away from Julio, then twisted back just as quickly. He was upset in a way Julio had never seen before, a storm clouding him.

Finally, he said, “I though humans were different from the Spineless Ones.”

Spineless Ones: those like Mojo, if Julio remembered correctly. If Shatterstar freaked over reality TV, and related it to Mojoworld, then that meant—

Julio balked. He intentionally avoided asking Shatterstar too many questions about his past because of how grim it seemed, but he regretted it now. “You said you were entertainment for Mojo. Is that what this is about?”

Shatterstar did not nod, instead turning away once more to shadow his face. If Julio knew better, he’d have said Shatterstar was hiding in the curtain of his own hair.

“I enjoy violence, but I had no choice of it in the arena. There were many cameras, all the time, that enjoyed misery as much as the present crowd did. I do not like watching others being subjected to the same.”

On some level, Julio had known Shatterstar spent his life fighting, and he’d mentioned an arena more than once to solidify Julio’s guess. But the fact that it was broadcasted — it was a more fucked up version of Roman gladiators, it sounded like, with the fanfare of film being attached. Julio didn’t blame Shatterstar for his reaction if that was his experience with real-time cameras.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Julio finally dropped his hand from his face to awkwardly pat Shatterstar on the shoulder. The other stood, stiff as a board, and Julio let his hand rest in place when ‘Star didn’t knock it away. “I’ll make sure we keep it to the news and documentaries when it comes to series about real people.”

Then, after a lapsed beat, Julio added, “Sorry your childhood sucked.”

“You are not very good at comforting people.”

Following, Shatterstar twisted around, eyes flickering from Julio’s face to the hand still on his shoulder. Julio snatched his hand back, though Shatterstar’s expression belayed none of what he thought.

Playing it off, Julio snorted. “Yeah, I’m not. I’ll try for you though.”

Julio did have to tape the remains of the den’s remote back together several hours later. Jimmy asked when he’d become Shatterstar’s keeper, and in lieu of a defense, Julio told him to fuck off despite Jimmy’s good intentions. He didn’t want to address the way that question made his pulse ring in his ears.

In comparison to everything Julio asked, Shatterstar’s questions didn’t stay localized to human society as whole either. Another day, where Julio had dragged Shatterstar to the library because at least Shatterstar had a functioning American ID, they holed up between rows of dusty books.

“Why do you like reading so much?”

“You don’t?” Julio stood on his toes to stare at Shatterstar between a row of Asimov novels. Now that he thought about it — he’d never seen Shatterstar read a book before. Or Domino’s battle research. He’d only witnessed Shatterstar identify label names and whatever he did on computers. “You can read longform, right? I know you had trouble with clocks for a while.”

“Yes, I can read. I picked it up after the importance of dial positions in combat was impressed upon me. Theresa provided me with novels.” Shatterstar grumbled, affronted at the question. “Reading invites boredom. There is not enough activity.”

“That’s because you have the attention span of a goldfish.” Julio ducked lower to continue searching the shelf, but mostly to avoid Shatterstar’s glare and hide his own grin. To think the man was smart enough to learn whole languages through TV, but couldn’t sit still long enough to read a book.

Julio continued, thumbing through spines, “I like fantasy the most, but sci-fi is good too. There’s some pretty good Star Trek novels, if you want to try it again. I don’t think its best to judge it all by Terry’s dollar-store bodice rippers.”

Suddenly, Shatterstar was at his side. Julio nearly jumped out of his skin at the way the other lurked in his peripherals, having been absent moments before. Ever solemn, Shatterstar said, “I will attempt, for you. But if you insist, I would rather it be Star Wars.”

Julio complained under his breath the entire time he searched for a cover with an infamous blue alien on it, irony looping in his head at the thought. Of course, he’d read some Star Wars books too, but he wasn’t going to let Shatterstar win their never-ending argument about which series reigned supreme. Julio maintained he should be reading Star Trek adaptions instead.

Another day, Shatterstar approached Julio just before he tucked in for the night, pressed to the floor to feel the earth through the thick metal. New York was particularly terrible on Julio’s senses due to the layers of concrete in every direction, and while they were underground in Murderworld, sometimes he tried to feel the earth in moments of downtime. It hardly helped that most major fault lines were rather distant from the city.

Julio scrambled from the ground, dusting himself off as heat prickled under his skin, embarrassment at being caught. Normally Shatterstar wouldn’t slip into their shared room for several more hours, and Julio had become complacent with their routine.

Shatterstar stared for a moment but otherwise showed no interest in Julio’s activities. Instead, throwing himself directly at the point as usual, he started, “How different am I from that of Benjamin?”

It wasn’t a question Julio expected. After their initial conversation, Julio kept his mentions of Ben as nonexistent as possible, and Shatterstar certainly never brought him up without reason either.

“Don’t you have his memories? Can’t you tell?”

Shatterstar tilted his head at the question. “I’ve learned an outsiders perspective is… imperative. Those memories are hard to recall without outside influence calling my attention to them.”

The answer certainly explained the gaps between Shatterstar and Ben. Julio shrugged, sitting on his bed to avoid listless dawdling. “I’m not the best judge, but he was much more outgoing. And he was really squeamish about fighting.”

Shatterstar’s hand flexed, like it had once been soaked in blood. Evidently, it didn’t take much to have him remember something of Ben’s past once someone referenced it, if the way he looked down in surprise at the twitch said anything.

“How outgoing? I talk to those that I deem comfortable.” Shatterstar stated. Julio resisted rolling his eyes. Those ‘comfortable’ to Shatterstar remained concentrated to X-Force and, apparently, Adam-X. No one in their right mind would refer to ‘Star as outgoing as he was now.

“You’re the same amount of talkative, only in different ways. He could chat a stranger’s ear off if he wanted, unlike you. You only do it to me.” Julio smiled at the way Shatterstar’s expression pinched. “Big hit with the girls too, even with ‘Berto around.”

Suddenly, Shatterstar’s frown twisted down further, not of displeasure, but of contemplation. Odd.

“I remember it was not just girls he pursued.”

Julio froze. There were many things Julio blocked from his mind, and that one night, years ago with Ben, was one of them. Parties and dark alleys remained just that in his memories, nothing about Ben present in them. He didn’t need to think about Ben’s proclivities anymore than Julio needed to think about his own.

Before Shatterstar noticed the tension that lined Julio, the latter spit out, harsher than intended, “Yeah, might want to keep that one to yourself.”

“Why?” Shatterstar’s otherworldly origins were most bare in times like these. Rather than react disapprovingly at Julio’s dismissive words, he intoned, “You have yet to answer my questions about these strange rules regarding human relationships. They make discerning my own capacities difficult.”

Shatterstar really didn’t understand, if his wide-eye glower was anything to go by. Julio bit at his lip until he tasted blood. Some part of him wished he was in Shatterstar’s shoes — that he lacked a reason to care about what others thought, what society would pin on him if he was open.

Instead, Julio replied, “Relationships are complicated even to humans. And just trust me on this, keep that part quiet.”

“There is a social currency attached to relationships though, correct? Was that not why Feral pursued me?”

“I guess, yeah. Not that you’re, like, an object, but you’d be a prize girls are jealous of if someone got lucky enough. Aside from the hair length, you meet a lot of the requirements for a picture-perfect man.”

Shatterstar tugged the ponytail of his hair over his shoulder, frowning down at it. Even with how delicate his features were, framed by the harsh overhead lights of Murderworld, one would be hard pressed to argue he wasn’t what other men envied. Julio wouldn’t have him changed any other way, and almost said as much before Shatterstar spoke in wonderment.

“So social worth is why humans pursue these things.”

It wasn’t a question. Julio may have given Shatterstar the wrong impression already.

“For some people. Others date because they genuinely like the other person, regardless of what others think.” Julio didn’t normally think about this too hard. It was just something that was. There was shallow attraction and flaunting people off on your arm, and there was genuine attachment. Sometimes both, although Julio was a terrible judge of the latter. He still owed Rahne and Tabs an apology because he couldn’t sort out his own head. He still couldn’t now.

Shatterstar, at least, nodded along with a semblance of understanding. Julio wasn’t confident he did understand the nuance.

“If I am to convince others I am Benjamin, then I need the social currency of someone. Especially because he was pursuant of others.”

Julio stared, because yeah the nuance got definitely lost in translation, yet Shatterstar was looking anywhere but him. That hadn’t been where Julio thought the conversation was going. A foreign disappointment churned in his gut.

To distract himself, Julio said, “I mean, you don’t need to. And we could always tell everyone who you are already, I really don’t think they’re going to care.”

“But I want to. And this seems central to human media.” To prove his point, Shatterstar moved to present the harlequin novel that Julio definitely hadn’t been reading last night. Then, after laying it back down, he sat opposite to Julio, elbows resting on his knees so he hunched. “I still agree with Cable that it is a reckless hazard to reveal the truth.”

Julio scrubbed a hand through his hair, haggard. A love life was one way to learn about humanity, supposedly, but he didn’t imagine he’d be the one to teach Shatterstar this. “Fine, I can be your wingman. We might have to go to a club again, unless you had your eye on Terry or something.”

After a pause, because imagining the chaos that would come of that made him wince, Julio added, “Please don’t try to date Terry. I don’t want to deal with Jimmy’s reaction if you do.”

Shatterstar frowned. “I do not want to date Theresa. I struggle with your concepts of love, but she is a friend.”

“Well clubs it is, sorry. I know you hate them.”

Then Shatterstar was staring straight at Julio, a look in his eye Julio couldn’t name. It left his mouth dry and his palms clammy.

“But what if you were my boyfriend?”

Julio’s heart jumped. It made him want to sink into the ground.

“What? No.” Julio twisted a hand into the sheets below for purchase. His pulse was in his ears, echoing so Shatterstar’s words didn’t ring in his head louder. Maybe, hopefully, he’d misheard. “No, no, that’s not how that works, ‘Star. You’ll — lose respect. And people won’t think you’re normal if you date a man.”

Shatterstar parsed an appraising glance over him. There was no correction that Julio had misheard him. “I want people to believe I am Benjamin, not normal. And Benjamin would be with a man or a woman. You meet this requirement, and you are comfortable to me. I do not want to be with a stranger.”

Julio felt like throwing up. Or shaking New York apart. Neither option was particularly appealing, but they were a better alternative to the conversation at hand. He wasn’t going to address his issues with ‘Star of all people.

Shatterstar, who was only asking as a learning opportunity and to play pretend at being the dead boy Julio hated.

“I’m telling you no.”

“Because you only are inclined towards women? Your television has made it clear that some preferences—”

“Stop, ‘Star.” Finally, Julio scrambled to his feet, escape a simple option in lieu of something more dire. “Please just stop. We’ll talk about this later.”

If Shatterstar wanted, he could’ve caught him. Julio was thankful he didn’t as he whisked out the door of their shared room, pulling a coat with him as he went. He needed the comfort of grass and the shift of fault lines to overwhelm his thoughts, not the needling of a companion into subjects Julio didn’t want to acknowledge.

Julio didn’t need to hear anything.

Julio tried his damnedest to avoid Shatterstar after, although the few times they ran into one another after were filled with stares and tense silence. The first step of his plan for avoidance was simple: always be asleep before Shatterstar got back to their room. Following, Shatterstar had the good will to leave before Julio woke up, so he didn’t have much issue there. The one time Shatterstar tried to stay until Julio was awake, he chose to sleep the entire day away, much to Cable’s ire. Shatterstar didn’t attempt it again, and Julio continued his game of cat-and-mouse with the other when they were both out and about the base.

More than once he’d tripped on Theresa trying to scramble out of the kitchen in time when he saw a flash of orange. Jimmy suffered being ghosted for a night out when Julio mistook his outline in the dark for Shatterstar’s build. Roberto got clocked in a fight, breaking his nose, because Julio refused to help him and Shatterstar first when his own enemy was incapacitated.

It wasn’t until he’d knocked over a bottle of Tabs’ nail polish on her, both having been engrossed in the den until Shatterstar walked by, that Julio was finally cornered about it all. Mostly because Tabs’ shriek left the entire team with a headache for a week, and she didn’t even have a vocal-based power.

Domino caught Julio by his bandana as he made his way through one of Murderworld’s mazes, the second one he’d accidentally gotten caught in that month. Shout lost between plastic hedges, she shoved him through a hole that definitely hadn’t been there on Julio’s first pass, a hallway of mirrors within.

Julio really hated the damn place.

Pressed between three mirrors and blocked from escaping by Domino’s form, she stared down at Julio with a glare. “You know, I really hate mediating all you kids. Makes me feel like a mother hen.”

Julio peered around Domino when she released him. Endless Julio’s searched for an exit. “You don’t have to mediate.”

“When the alien looks like a kicked puppy and you’re so avoidant of him that you’re fucking up missions, I do.” Domino caught his bandana again when he made to shuffle around her, throwing him back against the mirror. Hundreds of other Julio’s stared back at him with the same panicked expression. “So what’d you do?”

Julio considered the consequences of shattering the mirrors around him with his power. Probably high that Domino would put him into a chokehold until he admitted his issues, shoved into the pile of leftover glass, but there was a chance she’d be disoriented long enough for him to escape.

But she’d definitely find him again. So instead, Julio sagged backwards, scrubbing at his face with a hand. He could keep this vague. “I didn’t do anything. He’s just — growing pains of learning things from his end. I have boundaries.”

Domino gave him a look. Julio’s heart went into his throat.

She knew.

“Nothing wrong with boundaries, but talk it out with him. He’s not malicious, and you have an incredibly grating attitude when you’re upset.”

Anger overtook Julio’s fear, an alternative so he could shove the latter down. He spit, “Fuck you.”

“Uh-huh. Just do what I say, Rictor.”

Julio was finally released, and Domino gave him another pointed glare. Then, she disappeared as she turned an invisible corner, and Julio was left with nothing but his reflections that mirrored the defeat on his face.

Of course, he didn’t do what she said, though the conversation left him keyed up and irate. Julio wasn’t one to talk things out, much less about himself. So when he continued to dawdle days later, it wasn’t a surprise when Sam approached him next. Only a day before, he’d gotten distracted thinking he saw Shatterstar in the distance and kicked a football right into an unaware Sam’s stomach. Sam took it like a champ, but from the way he approached now, Julio wasn’t going to escape his conversation either.

“Alright, lets get you outta here.”

Julio glanced up from the computer he’d been fiddling with. He’d spent the entire morning trying to figure out how they ticked, unwilling to be reliant on Shatterstar for tech solutions in the field anymore. “What?”

“Me, you, and Tabby. We’re going out. You’re wallowin’ too much.” Sam proceeded to unplug the computer, ignoring Julio’s shout of protest.

“Dude!” Julio shouted, shoving away from his seat. “I’m not going to third wheel on your date!”

“Yeah, you are. You’re depressing to look at and I ain’t gonna tolerate it anymore.”

Somehow, without a throw of hands, Julio ended up wedged between Sam and Tabs in the middle of a movie theater, which is the weirdest position he could’ve possibly been put in with a couple. But it was probably so he couldn’t escape, although Braveheart wasn’t all that bad of a movie. It just made him think of Rahne — as offensive as that might’ve been — which in turn cycled him back to the whole reason his mood plummeted.

Julio felt more defeated than angry lately.

Halfway through, as Julio had taken to staring at the back of a stranger’s head because each frame of a ginger actor made him feel sick, Sam leaned over and whispered, “So y’gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Shut up, a movie is playing. No.”

Then, Tabitha was pressing into his side too, her eyes glued to the screen but her attention clearly on Julio. “Stop being a baby. Tell us why you’ve had your panties in a twist for two weeks straight.”

Louder than intended and with a elbow shoved into Tabs’ ribs to push her away, he said, “I do not have my panties in a twist!”

From in front of them, a loud shushing noise was made, and Julio sunk further back into his seat, firmly reprimanded. That was what he got for even entertaining the idea of going out with Sam and Tabs. For pretending to be normal.

“We’ve been through so much and now you’re holding out on me. I’m hurt, Ric. Hurt!” Tabs hadn’t moved back far from where Julio had shoved her away, so she squirmed around his arm, latching onto his side once more. She wasn’t any quieter than she’d been before.

Now Tabs was guilt tripping. Julio nearly rolled his eyes, but she wouldn’t have been able to see it anyways. So instead, he settled for flicking her on the shoulder, knowing well it often took a crowbar to pry her off someone.

Quieter though, just below what Sam could hear, she added in his ear, “You know we’ve seen each other at our lowests, right? There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me think differently of you.”

That truth hurt, but not entirely in a negative way. Tabs had seen Julio at his lowest, to the point he’d almost killed the both of them on purpose just to take himself out. There was a chance, maybe, he could avoid some details. Get things off his chest. Something in him did come loose at her words.

With a long-suffering sigh, under his breath because he’d be damned if anyone overheard this next part, Julio whispered back, “Shatterstar asked me out.”

From Sam, he heard an aborted laugh. Not what Julio was expecting as a reaction, or for Sam to have even overheard.

“Really? I mean, he’s pretty close to you, but I figured with the history between y’all…”

Julio balked. Why was Sam bringing up Ben of all things? “That’s the part you’re focused on? Not the — man thing?”

Julio couldn’t see Sam well in the dark, but visible confusion flashed by when the screen’s light hit his face just right. In that beat, Julio couldn’t help but feel his own bewilderment was reflected back.

“Naw, I ain’t care. You think I would?”

Slowly, bracing for the worst, Julio turned to look to his other side. “Tabs?”

The woman in question rolled her eyes, tugging at his hair hard enough to hurt in the playful way she often did to him. “Ric, you’re an idiot if you think I care. Are you seriously avoiding Shatterstar because you’re freaked out by who he likes?”

“Who he likes might be me!” Rounding back on Sam, he added, “And you’re from Kentucky!”

“I’m a mutant from Kentucky. So what? Karma and Magik liked other girls. Not my first rodeo.”

Julio blinked once, twice. Stared at the colorful display of the theater screen. Thought about how easy it’d be to make a hole to swallow himself in the darkness, because now his shame was of an entirely different type.

Tabs jostled his shoulder after the silence held for too long. “You okay?”

“Can we just finish the damn movie.”

Julio didn’t want them to see the way his eyes had gone red and the way he was beginning to struggle to breathe.

It took another two days before Julio could look at others, consider the idea of them knowing, and not feel bile rising in his throat.

He didn’t intend to tell anyone anything. He wasn’t ready for that, might not ever be. But it eased him, just a tad, to have the security that if they did know, he’d not end up with a bullet in his head or ostracized all over again. He didn’t have that comfort outside of X-Force. And it was a comfort he wanted, even without the security of everyone knowing the real truth.

And if he actually allowed himself to consider the option — he liked Shatterstar, in a way. It wasn’t an entirely unappealing thought. Shatterstar had a way of getting under his skin that Julio quite liked. But he still needed to put his foot down: Shatterstar would use him to lie, a showy prize to prove he was a dead boy. Shatterstar didn’t feel anything and had admitted as much, and it was Julio who remained the odd one out with his preferences.

That revelation hurt more than Julio would’ve liked.

So, while Shatterstar was alone in the den, his own mood having been as stormy enough as Julio’s that it caused everyone to avoid him all over again, Julio approached to broker peace. From the way When Harry Met Sally flashed by on TV, Domino had been right. Shatterstar really did like to cycle rom-coms when he was upset.

“Hey,” Julio started, easing himself down onto the couch, as far away from Shatterstar as he could get. He tried not to let the trepidation he felt show on his face.

Shatterstar’s gaze cut to him once before returning to the TV screen. He continued to ignore Julio.

Right. Julio twiddled his thumbs as he rehearsed lines in his head. Shatterstar was a blunt person, and Julio needed to be to-the-point. In front of him, Sixteen Candles aired for a total of five seconds on the screen and then clicked by, replaced by an episode of Friends. The cycle continued for another minute total.

Eventually, when the next channel aired a series Julio couldn’t name, he spoke. “It wouldn’t work out because I’m not comfortable with people knowing I’d date a man. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone.”

“That would be counter-productive to my plan.” Shatterstar didn’t look at Julio. He maintained concentration on the scenes flashing by, but by the way he responded, he knew what Julio referred to.

“Yeah. So we’ll have to find someone else.”

The TV buzzed. They were back to the Friends episode. Shatterstar let it stay, setting down the remote. He still refused to look at Julio, a hand twisting one of his braids back and forth.

“I am angry with you.”

Julio didn’t apologize often. He never needed to, he was justified in most of his actions. But despite it all, he found himself saying, “Sorry. You brought up a subject I don’t do well with. I’m trying to be better about it.”

Maybe Julio would get better, maybe he wouldn’t. He’d made a little progress already though, so it counted for something.

“Apology accepted for now.” Shatterstar straightened up, turning his head slightly to peer at Julio from the corner of his eyes. Julio tried for a tentative smile — Shatterstar didn’t return it, but did incline his head towards him. “You said, the other day, not everything is about social currency. Not everyone chooses a partner for it.”

Okay, they were talking about it. Not Julio’s ideal outcome, but at least Shatterstar wasn’t throwing him out of the room. “Not to everyone, no. Most people have a balance of it, actually.”

“If I wanted something,” now Shatterstar was twisting to watch him in earnest. Imploring, he stared at Julio, a hand planted into the cushions below as he leaned in Julio’s direction. “Something for myself, that might contradict what is known of Benjamin. Would that be okay? Roberto has become as suspicious as you were and I am considering telling the others the truth.”

Julio breathed a sigh of relief. Shatterstar was moving the topic elsewhere, that was good. Eventually, they’d have to circle back, but maybe in time Julio would be more open to talking about it all. Possibly not so soon after Shatterstar was irate with him, though. Telling the others the truth of Shatterstar’s story was a good distraction.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Good.” Shatterstar nodded, then leaned back into the couch, as relaxed as he could get. “Then I am content in our relationship being secret, even if I do not gain from that.”

“Wait. Back-up.” Julio gaped. He’d missed something. “We are not in a relationship.”

Shatterstar’s brows drew low, head cocked in confusion. Julio wanted to rattle him. “Why not? As I said, I am fine with keeping it a secret. I do not care for the social currency if I no longer pretend to be Benjamin.”

That was absolutely, in no way, the direction Julio expected their conversation to go. It was to end with him reiterating the problems of ‘Star using him to hide behind, and maybe to explain why Julio avoided him for two whole weeks. To explain why relationships had hidden rules and why Shatterstar needed to tread more carefully.

Not to have Shatterstar assume they were automatically dating when they no longer had the roadblock of Shatterstar’s identity theft.

“Because we’re not! I have to agree to this sort of thing first, ‘Star!”

“Okay. I’ll ask you now, then. Will you agree?”

Shatterstar wasn’t the most expressive man outside of judgment and violence. But there were times when other, genuine emotions shone through. His earnestness now was one such time.

Low, choking out the words over the pounding pulse in Julio’s head, he said, “You’re serious.”

“Of course.”

Julio’s chest hurt. Even if Shatterstar was sincere, he had to be asking for all the wrong reasons.

“I don’t want to be something you’re using for experience. A test for your — capacity, or whatever you call it.”

Shatterstar faltered, a dejected mask flashing over his face as his shoulders hunched. “I can’t guarantee that.”

Julio’s guess was right. He wished it hadn’t been.

“Right, so then I can’t agree to anything.” Julio jumped up, intent to lay the conversation to rest for the day. Melancholy unfolded in his chest, an ache he couldn’t outrun. Looking at Shatterstar only made it worse.

“Julio, wait.” Fingers curled around his wrist before he skirted around the couch. Below, Shatterstar stared up at him imploringly, eyes framed by his lashes, one with the points of a star following. Julio almost ripped his wrist away, heart pounding, but something akin to fear froze him.

“I fail at naming emotions and what I feel. But I know the way you make me feel is different from everyone else.

“I am content to wait until I come to understand myself in comparison to humans, but I only wish to learn with you above anyone else.” Shatterstar squeezed his wrist, once, and then ducked his head, hiding behind the curtain of of his hair. “I want you to know this. For why I asked.”

The sincerity in Shatterstar’s voice broke Julio’s resolve. He glanced down at the hand holding him and pried it away, attempting to keep his shifting emotions in check. Shatterstar had no such luck. His head raised, the defeat on his face evident. Although Shatterstar could not understand or name all his own emotions, Julio could see them plain on his face.

Pulse pounding in a tempo to the way he moved the earth, Julio shifted the grip he had on Shatterstar’s hand, sliding it down to lace between his own fingers. He hoped Shatterstar couldn’t feel how clammy his hand was.

When Shatterstar blinked down in confusion at the gesture, Julio pointed at him, heart in his throat. “You don’t tell anyone until I’m okay with it, got it? And I wanna be there to watch when you tell everyone about the Ben stuff.”

It took a moment, but Shatterstar’s expression following was like watching a flower blossom. Or in the case of a violent alien gladiator, seeing an arena light up in fanfare. It wasn’t much, but Shatterstar’s lips twitched upwards, the giddiest Julio had ever seen outside a fight before. Even better than the time Domino had gifted him a whole whetstone set, which was saying something based on the reverence Shatterstar gave his swords.

“I’m serious. No telling anyone. Especially not Cable!”

“Of course, Julio.” Shatterstar squeezed the hand held in his. “Will you now tell me what made you doubt I was Benjamin?”

Somehow, the rest of the team took it well.

“I called it! I told you guys!”

Roberto was out of his seat and pumping his fist in the air the moment Shatterstar finished his spiel. A variety of expressions had flashed across the whole of X-Force, sans Domino and Cable who Shatterstar had been encouraged not to notify. But Roberto lightened the air considerably as he rounded on Sam, pointed at him, and said, “I knew I was the only one with any detective skills around here!”

“No, you didn’t. I called it first and none of you believed me.” Julio shoved Roberto back into his seat, glaring. Shatterstar’s explanation contained several holes, as Julio concluded inviting questions would put the team at ease more than plotting out every detail, but most everyone took everything at face value.

Benjamin Russell was dead (kind of). He mentally shut down when he was brought to the Mojoverse (true). Shatterstar was in his body, but they were inexplicable clone-multiverse copies of each other anyways, so it was just as much Shatterstar’s body as it was Ben’s; that’s why Ben’s memories were intact (Julio had no idea how much of this was true, and neither did Shatterstar). Cable told him to lie about it (Julio encouraged saying this part). Shatterstar was very sorry for lying to everyone (he wasn’t).

Sam was up next, approaching to pat Shatterstar on the shoulder. He’d been the most baffled during Shatterstar’s explanation, but by the way his expression had cooled off, he seemed to take it fine in the end. “I’m disappointed we weren’t told sooner, but I understand why you didn’t. We wouldn’t have blamed you for Ben’s death.”

“Hey does this, like, make Shatty a zombie? In a dead guys body?” From the couch, Tabs grinned wildly, sat next to Jimmy who grimaced at the suggestion.

Shatterstar frowned, taking the joke at face value. “My current body never ceased functioning in the way a canceled—”

Julio tuned out the ensuing banter, ‘Berto insisting that Shatterstar definitely qualified as a zombie while Theresa complained that was offensive to say to a man who’d died before. Sam had gone to wrangle the others, and in his absence Julio slid to Shatterstar’s side, pressing a warm palm to the small of his back where none of the others could see. Shatterstar twitched at the contact, but from the way his weight leaned back into Julio, the message was received.

Then, hiding in the whirlwind of the argument, Julio left the room. He was going to have fun rubbing in Cable’s face that Shatterstar went against his decision.

And maybe, eventually, he’d tell the team about him and Shatterstar too.