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Chase might have fallen asleep while the long-haired boy was darting about. One second, they were darting down the halls, and the next, the older boy was kicking a door open. Chase lifted his head a fraction.

>> "He don't know nothing. Thin ice....and its not my fault."

Chase looked up at the woman Hokee was addressing. She looked familiar, but he didn't know how or why, really. The woman got up, walked over, and gingerly pried Chase off of the long-haired boy's back. Chase didn't protest, but rather nestled into her arms as she picked him up. He knew that he knew her, and that he liked her, so it was okay.

>> "It's okay, it's okay. We need to take him to the infirmary. C'mon, Hokee. You too."

On top of being a friendly, familiar face, the lady was also incredibly warm. The shapeshifter cuddled closer. He felt like an ice cube. Chase clung to the woman as she reassured them, listening quietly. He still trembled, but no longer looked to be on the verge of tears.

"It was an accident," Chase reiterated, as if the fact that it was an accident would prevent a visit to the Infirmary, "I can't swim, it was an accident."

He didn't want to get in trouble. Something within Chase told him that he shouldn't have done what he did. Perhaps the fact that he didn't mean to fall in would mean they'd be in less trouble?

"Do you know my name?" Chase asked the woman in low tones. He knew that he recognized her, so hopefully she knew his name. He kept his voice low because he didn't want "Hokee" to catch him cheating by asking the woman his name.

>> "No blowing your nose in my hair."

"I won't," was the cross and murmured reply. He wasn't crying all-out, not yet, but Chase was certainly getting there. Hey, you would be, too, if you were eight-years-old, temporarily suffering from amnesia, and told by some long-haired big kid that you were going to die. Not exactly the best choice of words, in retrospect.

As Hokee trotted through the snow, Chase went silent, pushing the older boy's hair aside (lest he actually start crying) and setting his head on the older boy's shoulder, so that he could see. He had funny hair. The older boy jogged towards the building in went inside, and the two of them were met by an enormous, silent residence.

>> "Hey....anyone? Sh...Son of a...where the hell are you people?"

Judging by the long-haired boy's reaction, it wasn't always empty like this. Chase shifted his weight.

"We're inside now," he observed. The long-haired boy had said that if he didn't get inside, Chase would die, and that he'd carry him inside. They were inside now, so Chase expected to be set down, but... he was tired. So, if the long-haired boy carried, he wouldn't complain.

"There has to be... someone here who knows what to do?" Chase mumbled into Hokee's shirt, "Know of anyone?" Chase didn't. He was just along for the ride.

A zombie?! Awesome! Welcome aboard, hope to see you about on the boards (and thread with ya).

>> "Thank you. I am sure you all read through my credential before this meeting, but I would like to say that I have dealt with many cases like this before, both with mutant and non-mutant children. I understand that not two of those cases were the same, and I understand the process of how these cases have to be handled. I really appreciate your time and willingness to meet me here today to find a solution that is favorable to everyone, most importantly Chase himself. That is why I would like to propose to move him into permanent residence here at Xavier's where he would be provided for. This is a safe environment for mutant children, and the staff is qualified and prepared to deal with all kinds of mutations and all the psychological and emotional issues that result from them."

Valerie nearly interjected. Nearly. He was, in her opinion, too young for a setting that was akin a boarding school, particularly with the issues that he had. That was all well and good that the staff there could handle his issues that had stemmed from his mutation-related abuse, but Valerie was still set on finding a more child-specific approach. Both fortunately and unfortunately, Chase had the one social worker who was going to put up a fight for him. But, Miss Taylor was not yet finished, so Valerie did not yet speak.

>> "Also, because of his age, he will need adoptive parents or at least a legal guardian. I would like to be considered for that role."

At this, Valerie’s stern façade faltered into a warm smile. What wasn’t there to be happy about? A potential adoptive parent for Chase! And a well-balanced one, with experience in dealing with mutants. But, Valerie wasn’t the decision-maker in this process, but she was fairly certain that things would work out in Miss Taylor’s and Chase’s favor—the only problem with finding someone to adopt Chase was finding someone to adopt him, and now that there was someone, so… problem solved, right?

“There are, of course, the legal hoops that we need to leap through,” Valerie trailed, still smiling, “We would need to propose this arrangement within court, make sure that the you, the care provider, and Xavier’s, the environment, would be a suitable match… but I do believe that this would be the most beneficial course of action for Chase, and I think that the courts will agree with me.”

Miss Taylor was a pleasant woman, and seemed competent upon first impressions. Sure, it wasn’t that easy, but Valerie’s gut instincts weren’t generally wrong. They could leave him here for the time being, too-- uprooting him for the sake of a trial would probably just send him running once again.

“And, that’s all that I had to cover,” Valerie concluded, glancing towards the Townsends, towards the Detective, and towards Miss Townsend, “Anything that anyone would like to add, or might I conclude this meeting?”

“ I kn-kn-know my n-name!” Chase protested peevishly, stamping his foot with emphasis. He just couldn’t remember it. And this guy wasn’t helping by not telling him anything. He shivered and tried to look cross, but really couldn’t.

The long-haired boy hoisted himself up onto the fence as a means by which to describe how they'd gotten in there.

>> “Try.”

Chase flexed his numb hands, curled them around the bars, and tried to pull himself up. It felt all very mechanical, for he couldn’t feel his arms very well. At first, nothing happened. Chase released his hold, biting his lip, and tried once more. He managed to clamber up, in a fashion similar to how he’d climbed over the first time, though this time, he was much shakier and a bit more awkward, and he nearly fell as he reached the top.

>> “When’s your birthday?”

“I don’t know,” Chase huffed. Really, if he didn’t know who he was or where they were, how was he supposed to know his birthday? But, any answer was better than none, “January, I think. Maybe February.” He sat there, carefully perched atop the fence, and looked down. No way was he going to climb back down So, instead, he swung his leg over, and jumped.

Chase managed, by some grace of God, to land on his feet, but his legs did this awkward, numb, wobbling thing when he did. He couldn't feel his legs, at least on the outside. Chase didn't fall, though. Not completely. Chase tried to summon up the urge to shift, but couldn't find it. So he remained looking like... well, a shapeshifter unshifted.

Valerie wore a detatched, professional look as Mr. Townsend made the request, Detective Cervantez permitted this, and Miss Taylor smoothly inquired as per what the extent of Chase's abuse was. Valerie maintained a very strong poker face, but on the inside, she was smirking grimly. Mr. Townsends' lips thinned into a hard, white line, looking obviously displeased, but he said nothing. Mrs. Townsend maintained a polite yet concerned smile.

Valerie did as instructed, flipping back towards her notes on the investigation overall and her one-on-one sessions with Chase, which were written out like a script and accompanied by a margin of notes.

"According to our investigation and discussions that I had with Chase," Valerie began lightly, keeping her eyes on the notes for the most part, and only occasionally flicking them towards, "The neglect largely consisted of preferential treatment towards his human siblings, insufficient supervision, and being emotionally unprovided for-" Valerie said this all flatly, as if reciting the stats to a basketball game, "-As for the abuse, it was largely verbal and emotional-- Chase reported often being yelled at and degraded because of his mutant-status. Also, through some discussions, we also learned of occurences of physical abuse in which he was struck or punched by Mr. Townsend-- but only in the event that he, and I quote, 'stepped out of line'."

Valerie sighed. This sort of thing was heart-wrenching, no matter how much experience she'd had with it. She still couldn't fathom why or how a parent could do such a thing to their own flesh and blood, mutant or not.

"The nature of his mutation made it impossible to see any outward signs of the physical abuse," Valerie murmured, "Apparently, any injuries he gets in his typical appearance were concealed by his human appearance, thus making it impossible for... say, a teacher... to intervene. And, had he never taken matters into his own hands and run, there's a strong chance that we would have never even found him."

Valerie found the page where her research ended and the court case began, shifting her gaze towards Miss Taylor.

"Any further questions?" she inquired, before letting her gaze flick towards the Townsends, "Any relevant comments or concerns?"

The Townsends wisely remained silent, though Mr. Townsend seemed ready to spew fire at the next person who mentioned his trend for abuse. He also seemed ashamed, but not as ashamed as his wife looked. Mr. Evans said, "No, ma'am."



Chase managed to slide to the roof's edge, but when he reached the drop-off, he froze. It was a long way down from the roof to the grass below. Big League quickly caught up, and came to a stop beside him. Chase exchanged a glance with him, his eyes wide and frightened, and his entire body limned with trembling.

"Chase, what's going on?" Big League demanded, "You look like you saw a ghost."

"It's nothing," Chase murmured, "Just help me down, I need to get outta here."

Big League pursed his lips, "You're a liar, Chase. I won't help you down 'til you tell me what's wrong. Best friends tell."

Chase frowned, "I-it's nothing."

"Liar."

The two friends stared at one another quietly, and finally, Chase gave. He had to get out of here, and if making a break for it meant spilling the beans to Big League, then that's what it took.

"Those weren't spies," Chase stammered, "Those were my parents, and my social worker. They're here to take me back, I just know it, and I don't want to go back-- I know of a place, and I could-- I could hide there until they leave, but I can't stay here. I can't let them take me back to Syracuse, Bee. They're bad people."

As Chase rambled in senseless fear, Big League listened intently, frowning. He put a hand on Chase's arm, and the shapeshifter went silent.

"Where are you going to go?" Big League demanded.

"There's this friend I made a while back. He has an apartment, and he told me I could go there if I ever needed somewhere to go."

"And you'll come back?"

"If they leave," Chase confirmed, nodding his head.

Big League smiled reassuringly, and nodded sharply, "You still got my cell phone number?"

Chase nodded.

"Gimme a call when you get there, so that I can get your friend's number. I'll call ya back when the coast is clear. Now, lemme help you down--"

"Thanks, Bee--"

"Hey," Big League countered, grinning, "It's what friends are for."

>>"Ice ate you."

"I-i-it what?" Chase echoed, gaze wandering towards the pool. An ominous sheet of ice jutting out of a murky hole that opened into the water. He'd fallen through the ice and into the water?

"A-and you went in after me?" Chase guessed, lamely, getting up as the long-haired boy went to retrieve his clothes. His head still spun, but Chase blinked his dizziness away. Chase unzipped his hoodie with numb fingers. He wasn't going to strip down, but with how the jacket clung to him. The eight-year-old couldn't feel his arms.

>> "If you piss yourself, it might warm you up some. Can you walk?"

Chase didn't answer the first part. He simply frowned and shook the water from his dual-chrome hair.

"Yeah, I can walk," Chase murmured. He looked around blankly for the gate. He needed to get into the Mansion, but... how had he gotten into the pool area in the first place?

Just to prove his point, the shivering eight-year-old began to shakily pick his way over the sidewalk.