This part of Central Park was dark. The few street lamps which hadn't been smashed - supposedly by someone attempting to rebel against society via small-scale vandalism - did little except to accentuate the depth of the darkness. And in the darkness, a half-choked cry of distress was heard from the shadows, and then some scuffling. Someone was in trouble, although it was not quite clear who.

"Please let me go," the girl who was pushed against the trunk of a tree whispered, her voice shaky with terror. The girl's name was Callie Jones, and she currently was currently regretting the naive decition to cut through the park on her way home very much. Somewhere back where the robber had torn her from the road, she had lost her glasses, and now she could see absolutely nothing at all. But she could feel all the more. "Please let me go before I hurt you."

The man laughed, said something disparaging about her, wouldn't listen to her explanation. "Sure, babe, you're a mutant alright. Now, why don't you empty out your pockets?"

Callie tried, she really did, but she was scared, and it wasn't as if her motor skills where anything short of disastrous in the first place. He jerked her closer, his breathing hot and unpleasant against her face, and as she contintued to fumble he slammed her impatiently against the tree. Callie whimpered, her head throbbing with pain, and in her mind, something slipped. The man howled in pain and she tumbled bonelessly to the ground, terrified.

And that was when things started to go really, really wrong for her. Before he had only been after her money. Now, from what she could tell from between the profanities and whimperings, she had done something terrible to his hand, and he was after revenge.

He kept calling her a freak. Over and over. Freak, freak, freak. She guessed he was right.

She managed to curl up in a ball on the ground before the first kick landed, but it still expelled all the air she could have used for calling for help from her lungs. All she could hope for now, she thought as she attempted to shield her head as best as she could, was that someone could hear him howling up a storm, and would wonder. That, and that she didn't let loose of her power again. She couldn't. She mustn't. It was the most important thing in the world that she didn't, and if that meant that he would keep on kicking her... well, she had no other choice.

It's a terrible thing, being more afraid of yourself than anything else.

Ted had been spending more and more time roaming around the New Yrok City. This time it just happened to be the Central Park area. What could a kid his age do at this time of night? Ever since moving to the mansion he didn't have a curfew so he could pretty much do anything he wanted anytime he wanted. It was great. What would a kid his age do with so much free time and so much freedom? No one to make sure he was doing something wrong and no one to tell him where to go. It was great. Life was good. Ted had been day dreaming and didn't notice that he was wandering towards a darker area of Central Park where there was less light and had less of the hustle and bustle of the city dwellers.

Now why he was wandering in this area he didn't know, but since he was here he continued to walk on since he didn't see anything that would concern him. Teddy continued on his way when he heard what sounded like screams and shouts. Most of the time he wouldn’t have done anything but walk by; however, this time it peaked his interest and overall want to help the unfortunate. He wasn’t exactly sure why since he’d never been one of the hero types but no matter why he was doing this Ted knew that what he was doing was right. He only hoped that he would be able to do something to make a difference. True he was a mutant, but he was also a 14 year old boy whose mutant powers included blending in at a Build a Bear workshop.

The young mutant hurried down the alley to where the yelling got louder and louder as he drew closer. In the distance he saw what looked like a young girl lying against a tree while a man, older than him, was beating and cursing her. Ted hadn’t played a moment of tackle football in his life; however, he knew that catching someone off guard and in the side would probably be enough to scare him away. Or so that was the plan and he hoped it worked. A backup plan wasn't something that was in his mind right now if it didn’t work. He moved into position before he charged the robber. Hitting him like a professional tackler, that just happened to be a 14 year old, he knocked the man over. “Back off!” Ted yelled at the man. He jumped over to the man and started kicking him like the robber had done to her.

The attacker fell to the ground, completely taken aback by the sudden assault. Trying to catch himself instinctively, he fell right on his maimed left hand, and let out a yelp of pain. And then suddenly someone was kicking him in the chest. His eyes were blurred with pain and the light was poor, and suddenly all he was aware of was that he was all alone in the dark with a violent lunatic and a mutant, and that wa not anywhere he wanted to be. He scrambled to his feet, away from the kicking feet, an ran.

Callie, meanwhile, was too horrified to manage more than a frightened, "Don't, please," when the her newly arrived saviour started kicking the thief. She was vaguely aware of that what he was doing was probably the best thing he could do - from what she could tell from his blurred frame, he couldn't be much older than her, right? - but all she could think of was that she made that man's skin melt, and now he was getting even more hurt because of her.

And then, all of a sudden, he was running away. Slowly, she attempted to uncurl, breathing quickly as pain came welling like liquid lightning from her back and her legs. "I... thank you..." she mumbled, hoping that this one was not simply another robber. "You really didn't have to do that. It was my own fault."

There were three rules for winning a fight against someone that is bigger than you. 1) Surprise the attacker and make sure they go to the ground. 2) Kick them while they are down. And rule number three, which is probably the most important rule to beating up someone bigger than you… Don’t let them get up and hit you. Since he didn’t have much in the way of what anyone might call experience in martial arts, he followed these rules to the letter. Thankfully it worked. As he was kicking the guy Ted didn’t hear anything she was saying to try and stop him. Once the robber ran away Ted’s leg finally stopped swinging.

After about a moment or two he turned to look at the person lying on the ground. Her words started to reach his ears. Why would she not want him to stop this man from attacking her? It just didn’t make any sense. “You’re welcome.” Ted said to her. It didn’t matter if he didn’t have to do it, it was more a matter of him needing to do it. As a kid brought up with normal beliefs, he learned that if someone is being hurt and can’t defend themselves then it is your obligation to help them. “There’s just no possible way for it to be your fault. He wouldn’t have stopped beating you until you were unconscious or worse.” Ted told her. Still not one for wanting to get into fights he did think that she shouldn’t blame herself for something someone else was doing to her. That just didn’t make any sense.

Ted could finally get a good look at her. She was about his age and he thought it odd that she was here in this alley. Of course he did suppose that it was possible that it wasn’t her choice to come here at this time of night. Ted held out a hand and said, “Hey let me help you up. I’m Ted by the way and what’s your name?” His childish curiosity started to get a hold of him and as is usual with youngsters he might make friends easily.

Callie dragged herself to her feet with the help of his hand, trembling with pain and a sudden chill that seemed to have settled in her bones. She stood hunched over, because if she tried to straighten up then, A. every muscle in her body would scream in even worse pain than what was already assaulting her nerves, B. she suspected that she might throw up all over her rescuer.

"I... I'm Callie Jones," she mumbled, trying to blow the hair out of her eyes since she didn't dare lift her arm to do it. "And I'm afraid that it was my fault. You didn't see what I did to his hand. Oh, god, I..." And then she threw up anyway, although thankfully not on Ted, but instead on her brand new shoes. "I'm sorry," she added, embarrassed, when she was able to speak again. "It's just... I melted his skin. I mean, I don't usually melt people's skin," she added, afraid that he'd be frightened of her. "It just happened. I was frightened. God, I'm horrible. I hate this stupid, stupid..." She kicked the ground with her fairly disgusting, dripping shoes, and then vinced as pain shot through her leg. "Ouch! Bugger!"

Ted helped her up and once she was off the ground she started talking. "I'm Ted Callahan." he replied to her. When she was up and talking it didn't seem like she was interested in stopping. It wasn't that he wanted her to stop but all she seemed to be talking about was how she'd provoked the attacker. "No I didn't." Teddy said about to interject when she interjected herself.

Luckily Callie was able to direct the flow of vomit away from him. Unfortunately it was right onto her shoes. Melted his skin? "So you're a mutant? Me too!" Ted piped up maybe sounding a little too excited for the conversation. The youngster was no expert but it sounded like she was being just a little too harsh on herself. "From what I saw, whatever you did to him was in self defense and not your fault." He was just trying to get her more comfortable and hopefully a little less edgy. Ted however, wasn't really sure that it was working. There was only one way to find out and that was for him to shut up and listen to what she had to say. After all they were about the same age.