“Yes...I know...I know...I...”

Mat mashed the heel of his hand against his eye, trying to will away the growing tension in his skull. This had seemed like a decent idea several minutes ago. Now, Mat wasn't so sure.

“...would you just...please, can you just stop crying...for one minute that's all I'm asking...”

How he had thought this was a good plan, he would never know. The idea hadn't crossed his mind in years. After the first year or so of living on the streets, Mat had resolved to himself not to look backwards. Struggling to survived made it easy to forget about it. Soon enough, the notion had removed itself from Mat's mind.

“...I know, I'm sorry...Well what was I supposed to do? I was scared. I'd just found out I was a mutant, for god's sake...between that and Lily, I freaked out...”

The response was unintelligible, garbled by a half-sob, half-wail that seemed a good imitation of something dying.

“No, I'm alright. I promise. Where? Melbourne. No, I... Yes. I was sleeping on the streets. Oh, for fu--, yes I was alright. I know, but what else was I supposed to do? You think it was easy for me!?”

He found himself raising his voice, irritation setting in. This was not how it was supposed to go. In his mind, everything ran smoothly. Explanations were to be given, and accepted. Unfortunately for Mat, reality was a sh*t-stirrer.

“No, please...Mum, stop. Please, just stop.”

How the hell did Mat convince himself that calling his parents after nearly half a decade's absence was a good idea? Still, he had gone and done it now. Time to fess up.

“No, I'm not in Melbourne any more. I'm, uh, I'm in New York.”

Mat held the phone receiver away from his ear a for a moment, a tear of frustration pricking at his eyes, threatening to fall. This, he surmised, wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped.

“Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”

Agnes mulled the words over in her head as she walked through the empty halls of the mansion. She had just come back from the library, checking out some books that would be required for classes, when she found herself immersed in a very interesting poem. She had no idea what it meant, but something about the language was extremely beautiful and dark. She found herself standing in that setting, under the dark sky and watching as this sharp angled tiger came walking out of a dense grove of geometric trees and into her line of vision. She found herself staring at the big cat and for a second understood its loneliness, its need to be fearsome.

She felt like that: lonely, a need to show ferocity, begging for someone, anyone to take the chance to just try and understand. It was a hard life sometimes…and she was only a teenager.

Still, whether that was a correct interpretation of the poem, Agnes didn’t know. The only thing she was sure of was that she was interested in the poem. It made an impact on her and, having now read it, she was caught up with classwork and could join a regular session. That definitely put a small smile on the girl’s face as she turned a page and kept walking. But as she stepped a bit further, the sound of talking up ahead momentarily pulled her away from her page turning book of poetry. Literature wasn’t really her forte, but she knew what she liked and this book was filled with likeable poems…

She continued to ignore her fellow students as she read, eventually finding a quiet bench in the hallway to read. News of her altercation with Faye had spread throughout the school so most of the students, except for Amber and Gina had decided to steer clear of her. After all, nobody wants to run the risk of having their faces attacked by a swarm of bugs from the teenage mutant's mouth. But Agnes was fine with that for now. Who cares if they did not like her, not every one had to like her. It was a hard lesson to relearn.

The bench was comfortable as she sat back and stretched her legs out on it to read in silence. She rolled up the sleeves of her dark purple sweater and crossed her jean clad legs as she read, yawning only a little as she read through her poems.

No scene was more perfect than this. She prayed nothing would ruin it.

“...don't have a permanent address at the moment, I'm mainly subletting from various people. Nothing fancy, but it'll do until I can figure out something more stable. No, I know, I haven't got a citizenship, like I said, I'm working on it. At the moment I'm just... What? I know. I know. Jesus, will you give it a rest!”

The longer this conversation went, the harder it was becoming to keep his guard up, to keep his emotions in check. Mat knew that he couldn't tell his parents about everything that had happened to him since he had ran away. His life on the streets, the commune, the fire, the massacre, there was no conceivable way Mat could bring himself to telling his parents all of that. So he mixed truth with lies, and hoped he could dissuade his parents from prying too far.

So far, he wasn't being overly successful.

“Listen, I don't have much longer to talk. No...please, don't. Listen, I love you both, and I'm sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you or dad. Tell him I'm sorry.”

Mat clenched his eyes closed and bit down on his bottom lip, trying to forcibly halt the tears that had been building up during the conversation. He wasn't sure what was more painful, the fact that he had to listen to how much his disappearance had hurt his parents, or the fact that he was about to do the exact same thing to them. Again.

“No, I can't tell you. I can't. I'll call you again when I'm able to, I promise.” A lie. This would probably be the last time Mat ever spoke to the people who had given him life. “I'm sorry.” This time, a sob finally broke through, freeing the tears that he had been valiantly fending off. “Please, forgive me.”

As Mat lifted the handset away from his ear, he could hear a shrill and pained shriek from the other end of the line. Broken with despair.

“Mathew!!!”

The voice died with a click, as Mat hung the phone up.

Now, tears were falling freely, as Mat stood frozen in place, numb and unable to move. He had wanted to reassure his parents, to let them know that he was alive and safe. The call seemed to have the opposite effect. Before the call, his parents had most likely thought him dead. As awful as that was, at least they could move on with their lives. Now though, he had stirred up things that had long been put to rest. Now, the guilt for all of his actions was crashing down on top of him.

For running away only a few months after his sister had passed away, without a word. For leaving no indication that he was alive and safe.

Anger and despair were boiling to the surface. Anger at himself, and his selfish actions. At his parents for not understanding his position. Even at Lily, who had died, broken his heart, and left him with the mess his life had become.

Suddenly, overwhelmed by emotion Mat let out a gut-wrenching scream, every ounce of agony put behind it. It was as though he could no longer contain it in his body. Despite the strain it put on his vocal chords, Mat kept yelling. His right fist shot out, and smashed into the marble feature wall in front of him. Pain shot through his hand, but Mat ignored it, and punched the wall again. And again. Weeping and screaming, Mat repetitively put his fist to the wall. With every strike, it felt as though all the hurt he was feeling was leaking away, seeping into the cool stone surface.

Had Mat's mind not been clouded with anguish, he may have recognised the sensation. It was one he had felt only twice before, during times of great stress. Once, when Bloom had been attacked by a group of thugs. The other time, during the massacre. And had he recognised it, Mat would have realised what would follow.

Normally, during his duplication process, Mat could feel a tiny part of himself being left behind every time he stuck a source material. His mental energy, or whatever it was. He assumed that was what gave him control over his sculptures. Those other two time, however, he hadn't just put a part of himself in the material. He had put most of himself into it.

Mat felt his head spin, suddenly feeling feather light. He began to wobble and keel, until finally, his knees gave way, and Mat crumpled to the floor. The last thing he saw, before the world turned to black, was a marble hand, stretching out from the surface of the wall.

There was nothing like it. Lounging back in the middle of a bench, by herself in the mansion, reading a book of poetry that would be required for one of her classes. It felt absolutely great to be doing this with no real stress on her mind. Students were leaving her alone, she was safe in the house from any family members, and the whole scene was the epitome of quiet and solitude as she read and lounged. She still did not fully get half of the poems that were in this book, but she was thankful for the chance to just get to lie back and attempt to figure them out. All she needed was another hour or so of this peace and…

”Yeeeeeaaaaaarggghhh!!”

Agnes jumped when she heard the piercing cry coming from somewhere up the hall. At first she didn’t know what it was. Was somebody joking around? Had they gotten hurt, or just really badly frightened? She didn’t know and for a second she was completely against going to check it out. Instead, her blue eyes tried to return to the book in her hand, too afraid to investigate…

The she heard the panting and another scream. She looked up just in time to see a kid, another mutant teen with large fairy wings and antennae erupt from down the hall, his feet carrying him as fast as he could pump his legs. The look on his face showed that he was terrified, but instead of calling his attention to find out what was going on, Agnes remained quiet and disappeared into the scene. It was only once the fairy-boy was gone that she pushed herself onto her feet, meekly stepped into the hall and looked down its expanse.

“Nothing,” she said indicating to what she saw. Her eyes sought but true to her original description, there really was nothing there for her to look at! It was all just a long, large expanse of hallway with fancy art and statues all around.

She was just about to turn away and chalk the whole incident up to some practical joke…when she saw a shadow move down the hall. She could really see nothing that looked like some mutants playing a joke, then again, this was a mutant rescue place. Maybe some kid was using his abilities in a bad manner. Then she caught another movement and another. It was too weird! Why couldn’t she see anyone? It was only then that she noticed the moving statue as it came from down the hall and began to knocked over tables and art as if it were some kind of child having a tantrum. It was smooth and polished looking. It kind of reminded Agnes of marble, but why was it destroying things at random? She couldn’t figure it out and instead decided it was better to report the incident to a staff member before things got too out of hand.

“Help!” she heard a teen yell.

The sound made her snap her head back to the hallway and watch as a younger, female mutant was cringing behind a table that was none-too-far from another piece of art that the living statue was angrily trying to destroy. The girl was younger, probably 12 years old, blonde and with a single large eye on her forehead. It eye was teary and red from crying as she cringed once the statue drove its fist through another table, inching closer to the girl. She needed help! But what help could Agnes be? Her swarm couldn’t take down a statue!

But there was no time to argue.

Stupidly, Agnes picked up a heavy statuette and hurled it with all her might at the marble, tantrum throwing avatar. It smashed into it, breaking into millions of tiny pieces of leaving a dent on the living one still. Agnes gulped as she seemed to get the things full and unrivaled attention.

“Stupid idea, Agnes,” she told herself. The she did the only thing she could to draw that thing’s attention away from the cringing girl…she ran!

Marble, imbued with raw emotion.

The golem pulled free of the wall, shining with the same gleaming, polished surface of it's source. To anyone watching, as it stood free and turned its head from one side to the other, it may have seemed that the creature had some semblance of intelligence, of awareness and consciousness. As the golem began to wander down the hallway, ignoring the one who gave it life, now laying unconscious on the floor, it may have appeared to be a sentient being, aware of itself and its surroundings. The first time it ran into a statue that was tucked away in a small alcove, knocking it over, before planting a stone fist into the wall behind it, the sculpture could have been mistaken for a mutant, angry and bitter.

In some ways it was. In many, many more ways, it wasn't.

The first punch the golem threw seemed to trigger a reaction. A need to move, to lash out. It began stomping blindly down the hall, knocking over anything that got in its way, striking at walls and windows and tables and anything else within arms length. To anyone watching, it may have looked like its actions were fuelled by emotion, by anger. And they were, except it was second hand emotion. Second hand anger.

In reality, the golem had no real consciousness. It had no sense of the world around it. The reason it ran into walls and tables and statues was because it was blind and deaf to the world. It had no natural senses, and with Mat unconscious, no one to steer it, to guide it around. Its anger, its violence, none of it belonged to the creature. It had no reason, just a vague awareness brought on by an overdose of Mat's mental energy. It wasn't a living creature per se, capable of sentience. All of it, the anger and the rage, was Mat's. All of it had been transferred from Mat to the stone. Unstable emotions loosened Mat's control, made it easier for him to place his essence into a source. Made it easier to lose himself.

Marble, imbued with raw emotion.

So when a sculpture came flying through the air, and shattered against the golem, it turned towards the source of the attack. When it lumbered forward after the culprit, lashing out, its stone hands swiping through the air, it wasn't because of any emotional decision on the golem's behalf. Simply a reaction due to the emotions that it was infused with during creation.

The attacks, the destruction. None of it was personal. It was simply, for lack of a better definition, instinct.

Marble, imbued with raw emotion.

Run! That was the only thought in Agnes’ mind as she saw that she had gotten the golem’s attention. She did not know what was going on, only that a marble creature seemed to be running amok in the mansion, but what was the reasoning behind it? Were they under attack? Had some mutant lost control of his or her abilities? She really was not sure what was going on…only that that golem looked awful familiar.

It was not like she ran into that particular creature out in the street, it was more that she was familiar with what kind of thing it was. She had an experience none too long ago when she was saved by a creature like that. Obviously it was made from different material, aluminum maybe, and it was under the control of someone who had been trying to help her. It was that thought that made her think of the scruffy haired young man who had aided her back in the alley what must have been weeks, maybe a month or longer ago. She witnessed firsthand this mutant create a creature from solid materials. Could he be here?

Agnes glanced back and saw that the creature was not following, but instead was instinctively flailing out at anything it bumped into! It was like, running on pure instinct right now. She doubted it could see or hear anything, but apparently it could feel.

She breathed heavily, the buzzing in her chest stronger as her heart rate was going up from the chase. She gasped as she caught her breath and watched, wincing every time that thing destroyed whatever got into its way. Her palm pressed tightly into her chest, she slowly stepped forward, avoid fallen and broken material all over the floor, all the while keeping an eye on the obviously angry beast. What was its problem? Why was it so upset? If this was one of Matt’s creations…why wasn’t he doing anything about this? It was then that she looked past the rampaging beast and spied a body slumped down on the floor.

“Matt,” was all she said as she looked at him with concern. She had to get past that golem, but the second it felt her presence, it would lash out! What were her only options? It was then that she felt the slowly easing buzzing in her chest and glanced to the golem. If it wanted a target, she’d give it hundreds.

She stood before the golem, still and quiet as she lumbered back and forth in front of her, striking walls and whatever else got in its way. Slowly she steeled up her courage before she finally reached out and slapped her chest…hard. The pain that radiated out from the blow burned and made her gasp! But she did it again…and again until she got the results she wanted…buzzing. The swarm was awake, angered at being awoken and seemed to be itching to get out into the open air. With a snarl she lurched as she felt them crawl and flutter their way towards her mouth. Eyeing the golem…Agnes opened her mouth and released them…

The wasps, flies and roaches spilled out, many falling onto the floor and others taking to the air within seconds. The only moving, perceivable threat was the golem and that was exactly where they all headed. They crawled, bumped and attempted to sting as attacked in mass, trying to protect their home and nest. In a way, Agnes was thankful for the little insects, because no matter the odds, they would always do what they could to keep her safe. That was more than her parents ever did.

The effect of their bombardment was exactly what she had hoped for. The golem looked irritated, lashing out at the air whenever the bugs attacked. Maybe she would get luck and it would destroy itself. But without another thought, Agnes ran forward, waited for the arm to flail out, and rolled under and past it. The second she was on her feet, she dashed forward and fell to her knees next to the scrawny, unconscious golem maker.

There was only one thing to do…

Hand reared back, Agnes swiped forward and struck him with an echoing slap on his cheek. “Matt! MATT! Wake up! You’re going to tear down the school!”

It had been such a nice day. Nothing special, just the kind of day where things were flowing smoothly and easily, no potholes or speed bumps to derail it. Until Runkle heard the screams and the sounds of things being smashed to pieces. That, to her mind, was the sound of her day going down the drain. Sighing heavily, and letting a muttered curse drop from her lips Rose Unkles made her way towards the source of the commotion...

...and came face to face with a rampaging stone monster trying to swat a swarm of insects out of the air.

Okay, so her day hadn't gone down the drain. It had gone down the toilet.

The creature was flailing around, stone arms smashing into whatever got in its way. Was it a student? Or was it student made? Runkle had been at the mansion some time now, and had never seen another student like that, but it was a big school. It was possible that she had missed them. Either that, or someone was screwing around with their powers. It seemed a tad excessive for a prank. Maybe someone had lost control? Certainly wouldn't be the first time. Probably wouldn't be the last, either. Still, if she didn't do something, chances are someone would get hurt.

>>> “Matt! MATT! Wake up!”

It was possible that someone already had. She spied a girl with dark hair kneeling next to an unconscious, scruffy looking man. She was trying to slap him awake. Runkle frowned at the pair. Had the creature hurt that guy? Crap...this may have been worse than expected.

Looking up, Runkle squirmed at the site of all those bugs. Now that she was paying attention, she realised that it wasn't just flies and wasps. Cockroaches were scuttling over the floor and climbing up the stone man. A shudder ran down Runkle's spine. It was hard to hear anything, the raging buzz of the insect swarm drowning out most other sounds.

>>> “...going to tear down the school!”

The girl was right about that. This was all getting out of hand too quickly. Deciding on action, Runkle rushed over to the pair, and hoisted the girl to her feet.

“Grab his feet, we have to get him out of here.”

Taking the man's hands, Runkle helped the girl drag the man up the hallway, and into a small alcove. With him out of the way, Runkle shoved the girl into the alcove after the man. “Stay down, I'm gonna get rid of this thing.”

Turning to face the creature, Runkle closed her eyes and slipped her shirt off. Now was not the time for modesty. She felt the familiar sensation, something stirring beneath her skin. A bulge began to sprout from her back, swelling and growing. It started as a blob, a shapeless mass of flesh, but after it grew large enough it began to shape itself, becoming more defined. Legs, arms, shoulders, hips, the mass was beginning to take on the shape of a woman. Runkle gave a pained groan, and the mass broke free of her body. Standing next to Rose was a perfect replica of herself. A flawless, naked doppelganger. Runkle quickly put her shirt back on, and made her way to the alcove, pushing the girl down once more and shielding her with her own body. She was probably being a little rough, but that was an issue for later.

The doppleganger stood still for a moment, watching the golem down the hall. Then, with an expressionless face, it sprinted towards the creature. It ignored the stinging insects who had started attacking it, probably perceiving the clone as a threat. Approaching the stone monster, the clone caught a stone backhand as the creature lashed out. Blood began to pour from the clone's nose, but it gave no indication of pain or injury. Instead, it continued forward, clutching the monster for dear life.

That was about when the doppelganger exploded, destroying the golem in a shower of flying marble.

Stay down, I'm gonna get rid of this thing.”[/i]

It was plain and simple mayhem. That was the only way for Agnes to describe the events that had unfolded next. She had just delivered ton Matt a hard, resounding slap, but that barely seemed to phase the unconscious statue-maker. She did her best, shaking him, screaming into his ear, but nothing seemed to stir the man. She had no idea what was going on, but she was sure that he was the cause of whatever was causing that golem to come completely insane and run amok in the mansion.

Then, thank the heavens, someone jumped in to help. She watched in surprise as another student showed up on the scene and began to take charge.

>> “Grab his feet, we have to get him out of here…

Really feeling like she had no other choice than to oblige, Agnes nodded her head and grabbed Matt by his feet. Together they lifted the scruffy looking boy and carried him to a little alcove that was out of the line of danger from the walking wrecking ball. As Agnes helped to drop Matt down, she was also commanded to stay near him…

>> “Stay down, I'm gonna get rid of this thing.”

“Be careful! That thing looks like it is pure marble!”

She was surprised then, when the mutant seemed to strip off her clothes. At first the runaway thought that maybe the girl was just completely crazy, but before she knew it, she watched as an exact clone, a copy, a twin freed itself from her actual flesh. Agnes, needless to say, was completely shocked by this. But the most shocking was the fact that the copy had thrown itself onto the rampaging beast that thrashed and smashed everything in sight. Then before she could comprehend what was going to happen, the woman, the real version, came running back and shoved her down, shielding her with her body.

But shielding her from what?

Then the explosion rocked through the hall and rang through Agnes’ ears. She winced as she held onto Matt, letting the woman protect them both. When it was over, all she could feel was sore all over. Her ears still rang and her blood pumped too loud in her head for her to concentrate. Slowly, a few remaining roaches, flies and wasps, those that were not smashed or did not die in the explosion, returned to her. She sighed as she felt them crawling up her leg or landing in her hair. They wanted home after such an exhausting time.

But before she could allow them back in, Agnes looked up at the woman and nodded.

“T-Thank you. I…I don’t know what I could have done to stop it.” she smiled meekly and then turned her attention back to the unconscious Matt. “And you need to wake up!”

Kealey Quinn. Was. Angry. Sure it was the middle of the afternoon, and sure, she was living in a giant house simply full to the brim with people. That was no excuse though…no excuse for the kind of noise they were currently dealing with. Why, it sounded as though an explosion had gone off in the middle of the Mansion. Who did that?

Kealey stormed down the hallway, purpose in her step and a look on her face that discouraged anyone from speaking to her as she went on her way. She rounded a corner and stepped into chaos.

Something had exploded in the middle of the hallway…and there appeared to be three people involved. One of them was unconscious.

Kealey didn’t care. She was an X-Man and one of the older members of the Mansion. She had a responsibility to help keep the peace. Besides...Shin was sleeping, and he was such an insomniac. Couldn't people just respect the peace? He slept so little sometimes...and now people had to go and blow things up in the hall.

She was furious, and none of the other emotios in the hallway mattered in the least. Anger was a healthy emotion, and one that Kealey didn't feel often enough sometimes. She stopped walking, plopped her fists on her hips and glared in all her Irish glory.

”What on EARTH is going on here? People are trying to sleep!"

She spared a glance for the figure on the floor, "Is he unconscious?.” a glance...but no pity.

>>> “What on EARTH is going on here? People are trying to sleep.”

Seriously?

Seriously...?

“Well excuse me lady, but some of us happened to find ourselves face to face with a giant stone monster! So sorry if dealing with that inconvenienced your beauty sleep. Next time I'll make sure to destroy the damn thing quietly! I might even let it rampage around a little more, let it kill a student or two. Would that suit you better?” A word was muttered under Runkle's breath, one that rhymed suspiciously with 'witch'.

Seriously, what was this woman's problem?

>>> “Is he unconscious?”

This woman. She was getting on Runkle's nerves.

Runkle decided the best course of action was to ignore this woman, and radiate waves of indignant anger, like only a teenager can. Otherwise, there would be more than marble monsters going kaboom. Runkle turned to the girl and the fallen man. “Is he alright? Did that thing hurt him?” She crouched next to the girl, checking to see that the man was actually breathing. She saw his chest rise and fall, and let out a breath of her own. He was alive. That was a plus. “What the hell was that thing, anyway?”

A sudden wave of paranoia swept over Runkle, and wandered over to where the monster had been when the clone exploded. Where there was once a window and a pristine wall, there was now a gaping hole letting in the cool air. Scorch marks marred the ceiling, the opposite wall, the floor. Chips and pebbles and chunks of marble were scattered along the hall, all that was left of that...thing. Runkle gaped at the hole in the wall, mouth open, eyes bulging.

Okay...so she hadn't meant for that to happen.

Runkle wasn't a fool. She may have saved the day, but that wouldn't stop her from getting into trouble. She tugged nervously, embarrassedly on one of her pigtail braids. “I'm, ah....I'm gonna go get Doc Prof. Bring him here...” As quickly as she had entered the fray, Runkle scurried off towards the infirmary. She wasn't a fool. She knew a quote for this situation, or perhaps she had made it up. Not that it mattered...

'When it all hits the fan, it's time to leave. That's what winners do.' - Runkle

Agnes did her best to ignore the rest of the commentary that was going on around her. For the most part she was still worried about Matt and the fact that he was still unconscious. That thing had apparently been destroyed, but she was too fearful to get up and check. Besides, Matt did not look good, he needed help, more help than she knew how to provide. But before she could turn and ask their sudden savior for help in taking him to the only doctor that she knew about in the mansion…an angry, Irish voice broke through the lingering ringing in her ears.

>> “”What on EARTH is going on here? People are trying to sleep!...Is he unconscious?.”[/i]

>> “Is he alright? Did that thing hurt him? What the hell was that thing, anyway?”

All the questions and of course all of them are directed in her direction. It was not like she had all the answers. She did not even know he was in this school so what was point? All she knew was that when she saw that thing going nuts she had assumed that maybe, it could have possibly been Matt. There was no reason for her to expect why he was doing it or if that thing had in fact done this too him. She was just as much in the dark as the other two women who were there.

She sighed as she gently stroked Matt’s face, trying to urge him to wake up. So far all her attempts seemed to be pretty fruitless.

“I…I don’t know what happened. I found him like this,” she said honestly as she turned to look up at the pair. “His name is Matt and…I don’t know, he has a power that lets him create these living statues. I only met him once before in the city. I didn’t even know that he was here.”

She paused as she watched their savior leave and she was left with the unconscious mutant and the obviously angry Irish woman. If there was one thing that Agnes did not want to be, it was in trouble with someone like her. She looked like she could be tough, strict, like one of the nuns her mother used to frequently take her to see whenever she used to act up as a child. Even though she was older, the notion still terrified her.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said meekly as she glanced at the only slightly concerned woman. “That thing just started to rampage, I don’t have the power to stop it…”

>> “I'm, ah....I'm gonna go get Doc Prof. Bring him here...”

Agnes watched open mouth as she was abandoned with Matt and the Irishwoman. So much for their hero. In the end, she could not stay mad at her, or even blame her. After all whoever that girl was, she was risked her life to save not only herself and Matt, but the entire school. She doubted that many of the mutants here had the power to stop a rampaging creature of pure marble. Things could have ended up much worse, she knew that. Still…would be better if she were not left holding the bag. It was then that she noticed the fine hole made into the exterior wall due to the explosion the other girl had released. No wonder the Irish woman was angry. If her home suddenly had a huge gap punched through it, she’d be angry too. She only hoped that she would not put the entire blame on her.

She glanced up at the woman again and stood up, her gazing shifting from Matt to her. “Um, I…I’m Agnes. I just started here not long ago. C-Can you help me get Matt to that bench? For when the doctor comes?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she kneeled down and threw one of the boy’s arms around her neck and attempted to heave him up, just enough to drag him over to the bench.

God she hoped that woman would help instead of remaining angry at losing her sleep.

Pale eyebrows hit a hairline accentuated by the ponytail Kealey wore and the blond’s eyes narrowed at the animosity emanating from the other girl in the hall.

”It’s not my sleep I’m worried about.” she hissed. ”Obviously. It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

The brat didn’t seem to want to stop though, and Kealey crossed her arms at the sarcasm and useless ire. ”No. I’d rather you get help from someone obviously better equipped to help with an out of control situation.” she said, voice only nearly scathing. It didn’t matter though, the girl wasn’t listening. Fine. Kealey spent the next few moments memorizing features so she could point the girl out later, listening with half an ear as the other young woman did her best to explain what had happened.

Attention shifted, and Kealey looked at the young man on the ground. He was breathing and emanating the same emotions that everyone did when they were somewhere other than the conscious plane. Still…

The sudden shock of panic made her head jerk around to the damage that had been done to the wall of the mansion and her teeth clenched again. ”You go do that, but make sure you get right back here. I’m calling Sam.” Kealey said none t0o kindly to the retreating back of the child. (Child because no adult would act that way)

Once the source of her irritation and all the extra irritation from the other woman’s emotions was down the hall and out of her range, Kealey was able to take a deep breath and unclench her fists. Once she’d done that, her attention shifted to the other woman and Kealey took another deep breath to calm her frustration. This girl was upset…

”It’s not your fault….” Kealey said…then gasped a little as the younger woman tried to lift the young man on the floor.

”No no…you should leave him until Doc gets here.” she said, moving forward and dropping to her knees on the floor and helping her resettle the young man. ”Moving him could hurt him more.”

The irritation was gone from her voice now, and mild guilt was starting to creep in on the edges of her psyche. Someone was hurt and she’d been more concerned with her own irritation. That wasn’t right. She smiled a little apologetically at the girl.

”He’ll be alright though…he’s only sleeping right now, and I’ve heard that Doc can fix anything. A breeze filtered in from outside, and Kealey sighed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. ”I wasn’t angry on my own behalf…by the way.” she felt the need to say, ”But…what happened here?”

“C'mon, we gotta hurry!”

“Young lady, I tend to the sick and injured, I don't run marathons. If you want to run ahead, then by all means go. This, I'm afraid, is my maximum velocity.”

Runkle gave a huff and a sigh, trying to urge the old doctor to move faster through example. Unfortunately, her example was falling short, and Doc Prof continued moseying along. It wasn't quick enough for Runkle, she wanted to pick up the old man and carry him, racing down the hallways. Maybe then the unconscious man would be okay.

...maybe the hole in the wall would be forgotten...

Bouncing her leg up and down impatiently, Runkle gave the Doc a pleading look. Seventh time's a charm, right? “But what if he's really hurt? We have to get to him as soon as possible!”

Doc Prof gave a weary sigh. “Rose, we're retreading old ground here. I've already told you, at my age the joints aren't as forgiving as---”

A scream emerged from down the hall, muffled in the distance. Doc Prof let out another weary sigh, and gestured for Runkle to go on ahead.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke with a scream, like he always seemed to be doing these days.

Like waking from a nightmare, Mat woke with a start, the fearful yell passing his lips before he was even fully awake. From habit, more likely than not. Anyone watching the waking reaction would probably assume that Mat suffered night terrors. A bad dream, that would be forgotten upon waking and would be overridden with the following night's sleep. Except, Mat's terror wasn't forgotten. It wasn't overridden, or washed away with the next night's sleep. It stayed with him for some time, that lingering dread that followed his sleep phobia. After all, sleep was supposed to be the one place a person can find respite from the waking world.

How could he escape his fear when he was afraid of his own safe refuge?

Once the terror and initial panic had subsided to a less intense sense of dread, Mat took a glance around at his surroundings. First thing that came to notice, he was laying on the floor. Someone was crouched next to him, dark haired and young. Familiar. Not a face that he had expected to see again.

“Agnes? What...?”

Another face was floating around in his vision. An unfamiliar, blonde-haired face. Normally, Mat would have tried to make some joke, some crack to elicit a smile from the beautiful blonde one. On most days, Mat would have probably flirted either out of sincere interest, or bored amusement. Right now though, Mat couldn't have cared less. Memories were flooding back. The phone call. The anger. Punching the walls, and subsequently blacking out...

He wasn't an idiot. He could put two and two together.

Now, on top of the dread and unease that trailed him from unconsciousness, guilt was creeping up his spine. He had had moments like this before. Mat began to push himself to his feet, but a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, preventing him from standing. Mat looked up, and saw that two more people had arrived. Another young girl with fiery red hair that he didn't recognise, standing off at a distance, and an old man who was also unfamiliar, to whom the hand belonged.

“Easy son, let me have a look at you before you start gallivanting around.”

Mat slapped the man's hand away, a touch more brusquely than intended, and pushed himself up. “I'm fine,” he snapped. He wandered down the hall, ignoring the group of people that had congregated, frowning at the chaos and destruction that had taken place while he was out. There was a gaping hole in the wall further down, crumbled marble pieces scattered across the floor. Guilty tears pricked at his eyes.

He had done this. He knew it instinctively. It was just like the massacre, just like when he had tried to protect Bloom.

Had he killed anyone?

Unsure what to say, or what to do, Mat stood in the middle of the hall, back to the group, hands buried in his hair, tugging at clumps of the dark, tangled mess.

>> “”No no…you should leave him until Doc gets here…Moving him could hurt him more.”

Agnes squeaked a little and immediately backed off from picking him up. She knew better than that, it was common knowledge that you never moved an injured person. Then why did she? She shook her head as she left him there.

>> ”He’ll be alright though…he’s only sleeping right now, and I’ve heard that Doc can fix anything.…I wasn’t angry on my own behalf…by the way…But…what happened here?”

Agnes took a deep breathed as she attempted to repeat, again to the best of her knowledge what had just gone down in the little hallway.

“I…really don’t know.” she said honestly. “I was down the hall, reading a book on poetry for class when suddenly I saw a bunch of others come running down the hall,” she said as she pointed to the rest of the hallway. “Before I knew I, stupid that I am, I went to investigate and I saw some huge, marble statue lumbering around, smashing everything it bumped into,” paused as she leaned down to check if Mat were still breathing. “I saw him, lying on the ground unconscious, a saw another kid hiding so I charged, distracted it and tried to get him to wake up.”

Now that she recounted outloud everything that she had done, Agnes had to admit how stupid it sounded. She was not a superhero like in all her comics. She didn’t have awesome power to destroy marble or take a hit like that. She ran in, threw herself in mortal danger, and was not really even able to help all that much.

“Anyways,” she continued. “As I’m trying to wake him up, since he can create and control those things, that other girl, the red head, came running in, pushed me and him aside and…I dunno what she did, managed to blow the thing up.”



The scream startled Agnes more than she wanted to admit. It was so sudden and unexpected that she was sure that she feared for a moment that she had actually hurt the man. In her attempt to move him with the blonde, had she broken something further? Maybe bruised him internally? It was all starting to make her panic, but as she saw the familiar look in his face, that of a man depriving himself of sleep, and the idea that he finally recognized her.

>> “Agnes? What...?”

“Mat,” she said with a breath of relief.

But before she could say anymore, the rest of the party had joined in. The familiar face of DocProf showed up, along with their savior redhead. Agnes immediately quieted down and backed away as she watched the doctor attempt to get to work on Mat, but the man was apparently having none of it. Before he could do anything, the scruffy golem creator grunted his macho, “he’s fine” line and moved onto his feet to wander down the hall.

Agnes meekly began to follow him and watched as he paused once he saw the destruction. The gaping hole in the wall, bits of crumbled marble, the blackened or smashed bits of furniture. It did look like a utter homemade carnage. And Mat seemed to be taking it rather hard.

She could hear nothing, but she could tell from his slumped posture and way he ran his hands through his hair that guilt was eating at him. Someone really could have died from that thing. Even in a school full of mutants, it managed to cause a hefty amount of damage. Who knows who could have been harmed if it had not have been stopped when it did.

She sighed as she slowly walked up to stand next to him, just as quiet as he was, staring at the hole in the wall, feeling the breeze that wafted in from outside and kicking over a big chunk of marble that glared mockingly up at them from the floor.

A glance over and Agnes said nothing. She knew what it was like to hurt people accidentally…it’s never easy to get over. So instead she reached over and very gently patted his shoulder in a way that proved she knew the feeling well.

Kealey hadn’t expected the youth on the floor to wake up before the Doctor arrived. The blond assumed he’d been struck in the head when the ‘giant marble thing’ had gone on its rampage. She had listened sympathetically as the younger woman spoke, despite her lingering irritation at the girl who’d left to find help. It sounded like the situation had started when the young man’s powers had gotten out of control. Suddenly, Kealey felt a bit churlish for her behavior.

”It really isn’t your fault….or his…” Kealey said, nodding to the two in turn. ”And sometimes brave things are stupid…but that doesn’t mean they’re the wrong thing to do.” The blond cracked the first smile of the encounter, ”Trust me…I know.” and she did…from personal experience…several times over.

Before she could say anymore, a shout pierced the air, and Kealey actually scooted a few feet backwards as she registered the same feelings the young man on the floor was displaying. He’d been suddenly terrified…but how? Why? The blond sat puzzled, watching as he struggled to sit up, and forgetting to help the injured party or even keep him sitting.

The other two arrived, and Kealey scowled at the return of the rude girl from the beginning of the encounter. Just because she’d decided the situation was fautless didn’t mean the girl got to get away with being so rude. Doc on the other hand…got a smile. ”I think we had a power malfunction…” Keaely explained as the older man tried to do his job and was none-to-gently shrugged off.

Now. Kealey had a high tolerance for people, especially when they were in difficult situations…but Doc had saved so many people, and always did it for nothing more than a smile and a thank you, that Kealey crossed her arms and huffed again at the young man as he pushed his way up and walked off to survey the damage he’d caused.

”I’ve half a mind to tell you to go on back to the Infirmary. With an attitude like that he almost deserves whatever aches and pains he’s going to be stuck with.” she commented brusquely. Doc just smiled and shook his head and Kealey sighed, ”I’ll get him back over here.” she said, then moved to study the two as they stood and looked at the hole in the wall…the blond sighed again, she really did need to get ahold of Sam…this would need fixing.

The emotions from the young man were sincere…he felt guilty….really guilty, and Kealey frowned a bit. At least he was having an appropriate reaction to the situation. The girl who’d stayed around to help was doing well too, attempting to comfort the young man. Kealey wasn’t going to let Doc waste a trip though, and she approached gingerly, not wanting to upset the situation any further.

”Peoples’ powers get away from them in the Mansion all the time.” Kealey said reassuringly. ”I can’t tell you how many times I run around here like an utter basket case because teenage emotions are running high.” She paused for a moment to let those words sink in, then continued.

”The infirmary is a long ways away thought…and Doc made the long trip up here to make sure you were alright. The least you could do is let him do his job so his trek wasn’t for naught. I know how guilty you feel right now…but you won’t be any use to the cleanup effort if you’re not completely healthy…” the blond finished, words trailing off softly at the end.

”I’m Kealey by the way. I don’t think we’ve met.”

And yes. The other girl, the rude one, had been ignored. Completely.