Summary: After years spent as one of New York's most notorious mutant collectives, Nexus return to the safety of Xavier's School for Higher Learning due to tragic causes.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, reference to various forms of abuse. And Trevor. That speaks for itself. Also, just so you're aware, my spellcheck's dead on my program, so there's no doubt glitches here and there in the fic. My appologies.
Disclaimer: The XMen are property of Marvel Comics. I'm making no money off of their use... though, if you'd like to hire me, Marvel people, feel free ;) Nexus and this work of fan fiction, are copyright to Melissa "Mel" Miller 1996-2002. Neo X is copyright to Robert Geiger and Trisha Oliver. For your own sake, don't mess with any of it. Feedback: ... rocks.
Archive: You can find all things Nexus at www.nextxcomics.com and www.geocities/thevisionarytweek. I'd rather the fic not be posted anywhere else.
Notes: This fic is a labor of love for the Next X Universe that took over a year for me to write. Its serious, comedic and deeply angsty moments reflect my own state throughout the time in which it was written. I hope you enjoy it.

Kayo decided she must have looked quite the mess, as she perched cautiously behind a massive, beautiful, gothic marble carving- one of many that adorned the Mansion's front lobby. She was a tad bloody from the incident with Wolverine just minutes beforehand (Thank god she was wearing mostly black, she thought, though she admittedly found herself trying to recall if Sabretooth had ever brought up any good tips on removing blood stains from purple silk shirts...) and had a rather rude wolverine-claw-inflicted gash on the underside of her chin, neither of which had she had time to properly attend to, but she was presentable enough. Sort of.

She sighed, looking back across the lobby at her father who was watching her with a warning look intense enough to be sufficiently ranked at incredibly uncomfortable.

...So, apparently any shot she may have had at making a run for it was completely out of the question. It was time to face the music.

... Damn.

****************

'SShhhaaaaayyyy!!!'

LLeander Xavier lit up like the Griswalds' at Christmas as Shayla Ki pulled back her velvet black hood. The delicate pixy chick was the first to step through the doorway into the eyeshot of the attendees in the lobby, doing her best to carefully set her knapsack of belongings aside onto the rich mahogany wood floor before crouching to kid-level and scooping the sweet-faced child in a hug. Gingerly tossling Lee's moppy brown hair affectionately with one claw-laden, Shay smiled brilliantly, holding the boy at arms length to look him over, 'Goodness, look at you! You've grown!'

Lleander chuckled thoughtfully, 'Yeah, four years will do that to you,' He comically mimicked the ancient demon girl, muffing up her hair as well, 'Funny thing .... You haven't aged a bit.' Shay giggled, planting a smooch on the boy's chubby cheek.

It was then Lee noticed, with a bit of a start, Shay's carefully bandaged hands. At the same moment, in a reaction antirely natural to his brilliant young mind, Lee slipped into her mind with his in search for the cause of the obviously painful wounds...

His heart constricted at what he saw...

... A dying leader, and act of loving shivelry, a life saved for a hopeless cause- Lleander quickly whitnessed everything Shayla had experienced with her team just the night previous. More stress and strain on an already beaten young collective, and another trama for the beautiful soul of Shay, who, he grimaced, didn't deserve it in the least. Lleander quickly retracted his careful mental grip, realizing he must have looked as awkwardly disturbed as he felt, and patted the back of her gauzed hand delicately, 'What happened, Miss Ki? Are you all right?'

'I'll be fine, Hun, Its a long story. Maybe later, all right?' Shay dodged the subject like a drooling, twitching bum and hoped for and interuption of any kind, which she was soon granted.

'Shayla, it is good to see you again,' The familiarly soft, cultured voice arose, and Shay looked up from her grinning little buddy, into the all-knowing eyes of Charles Xavier.

She smiled kindly but somewhat coldly, and as her teammates flooded into the room, stood to greet the wheel-chaired man who had, once again, pledged to take her under his wing, 'As is it you, Charles.'

'WHeeew!! Yeeeaaaahhh!' Noir clobbered in, stepping clear over Lleander, who rolled his eyes good naturedly at the Scarecrow's ridiculous antics, 'Man it still smells like some old fogie up and died in here! Fancy that!' He plopped his bag in the middle of the room and stretched his long limbs obnoxiously. 'Home sweet home, eh?' He smacked his lips and grinned a monster, toothy grin, 'So whats for dinner?'

'Collin! Behave, would you please?' Annex poked him in the gut with a spiny metal finger.

'Um, no.'

'Um, YES,' Annex clenched his eyebrow ring in a threat to yank- hard- grinning coolly.

'OK, OK!' Noir batted her hands away playfully, 'You're the boss, beautiful! Chill out!'

'Ahh, kick his arse, gel... If you can find it.' Creeper, following a wheel chaired Dante in through the massive, intricately carved mahogany doors, strode in purposefully, doing his damnedest to ignore the stares of the Neo X. (those kids never could seem to grow accustom to the UK's equivalent to Mini Me walking in through their front door. Weird little gits.) Keith was followed in by a placid, grumbling Inferno, both of whom were dragging in a rickety, rather decrepid looking, graffiti-coated wooden trunk- likely chock full of spare hand guns and vintage Punk LPs. Trevor was having to haunch over considerably to compensate for the grodey British midget's sheer lack of height. The trunk was placed aside and the fire-cannon duo joined their friends to face the posse of XMen & Co. that had gathered to settle the lot of them in.

The scene was almost laughable. The two teams stood rigidly, sizing each up, both sides of the equation gapping dumbfoundedly at the changes that time had managed to toll on the other. For nearly a straight sixty seconds, there wasn't a word uttered in the cavernous room.

Nexus, The Neo kids noted, were 'All grown up'. Their presence, unlike the shielded, defensive mob they'd been before, were now suprisingly dynamic- in a street-worn, tragic sort of way. The stood dark, grundgey, looking about as completely uncomfortable as humanly possible, yet ready for whatever might come their way.

Likewise, Nexus were a tad shocked at what four years could do two a group of cute, playful little kid celebrities... Neo X were shaping up to be quite a serious, respectable looking team. Clean cut, sophisticated, of the highest most educational and moral standards, and yet, at the moment, clearly trying to mask their discomfort over the 'new kids at school'...

After spending a few fitful seconds fighting with the zipper of his backpack, Inferno finally reigned victorious in retrieving a much-needed cigarette, and as he casually lit it and took a drag, he suddenly found himself the center of startled stares of the Neo Xers.

He blinked.

They glared...

He grimaced.

They glared even harder.

Huh. Apparently old Chuck Xavier'd finally grown enough balls to enforce that old 'No Smoking on School Grounds' policy he'd been threatening him with for the longest time some four years back... Huh...

Trevor almost caught himself considering dabbing out his beloved fag... until, that was, he noticed the tall, sophisticated young man in the stylish gray turtle neck sweater, with familiar jet black hair offset by placid green eyes... Eyes of which were fixed coldly, almost threateningly, on Trevor and his smoke...

Trevor nearlly choked.

Well look at that!

His day just couldn't get any freaking better could it? It was old Flyboy JR!

...'Warren', wasn't it?

A rather cynic grin spread across Inferno's face as he looked from his cigarette, to the fuming expression of his all-time favorite goofy little birdboy and back, put the fag back into his mouth and took another extended drag.

This was going to be far too much fun.

Turning away from the younger man's disdainful stare, Inferno preened a bit, cig dangling from his mouth, now facing the man who remained, in his book, the ultimate in authoritative dingbats, Charles Francis Xavier.

'Evenin' Chuckles.'

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