Jamie sat up in bed with a yawn. The alarm clock flashed 5:30 into the darkness of his room. It was the morning of a schoolday--Tuesday to be exact--and already there were footsteps of the other Institute students outside in the hall. The young boy rubbed his eyes, switched the clock off, and stumbled out of bed. He'd been surprised at how well he could rise up on those latest of mornings, for hardly in his past had he been known as a wakeful person. But the Institute was an exciting place; and still attempting to cope with the new environment as he was, Jamie found sleep merely an intrusion on his life.

A few sluggish footsteps took him across the room and towards the dresser where the lamp was hidden in darkness. He flipped its switch, bathing the room in an electric glow that stung his eyes. Blinking, he glanced out the window; amazed at the laziness of autumnal dawn.

"Can't wait for it to snow," he moaned with a hopeful smile. Yet again fighting a yawn, he turned to head out into the main hall's bathroom.

Yet halfway to the door, Jamie froze. Something on top of the dresser had caught his eye. The boy had just woken from eight long hours of slumber, so any little difference in his living place stuck out like an alien intruder.

Jamie walked back to the dresser, his eyes locked to the chessboard that the Professor had lent him just a few days ago. A piece of paper was peaking out from beneath it, begging to be examined.

He picked the corner up with his thumb and forefinger and slid the paper out from underneath. Written roughly in hurried penmanship was a very peculiar message:

--Metal has been seen flying in New York--

"What in the world?" Jamie couldn't help but chuckle. It was like some hobo drunkenly spilled out random words from his head and copied it down onto a postitnote. But the one thing that immediately took the smile away from him was that it was in his own handwriting.

Jamie didn't remember ever writing such a silly thing. But what was most evident to him at the moment was; he felt indescribably tired. If he didn't head to the boy's room and splash some cold water on his face, he'd be asleep by the time he got to his first class.

So, with little regard for the paper's worth, he crumpled it up, tossed it into the nearby wastebasket, and padded off--yawning--towards the bedroom door.

***

Jamie was the youngest X-Man.

He wasn't 16, 15, or even 14. A boy of age 12 found himself living with, talking with, and training with teenagers that all but dwarfed him in the Institute's hallways. It was something that made Jamie feel...well...out of place among a throng of out-of-place youngsters.

The schoolday didn't help things much either. True, he rode in with his high school friends; Bobby, Jubilee, and Samuel. But he only joined them halfway. In a rather humiliating routine, Bobby would drive by the Bayeville Elementary School to drop young Jamie off to finish out his 5th Grade. And even at the 'little kids' school, Jamie's sanity was bursting at the seams. He virtually lacked any friends there whatsoever. He imagined that his exposure to high schoolers instilled within him an expectation of higher maturity among companions.

Thus it's easy to understand that the afternoon--in all its brevity and quickness of pace--was his most favorite time of the day; for it meant getting to hang around with teenagers whom he passionately considered to be the coolest humans (or mutants) who walked the planet.

"Better hurry up, shortstack!" Bobby called out from the driver's side of the jeep. "Logan will skin our hides if we're late again!"

Jamie dashed down the front steps of Bayeville Elementary among a flurry of exiting students and literally threw himself into the backseat against Jubilee. "I-I came as fast as I could," he puffed, fumbling with his seatbelt. "My teacher needed to have a little word with me."

"Is that so?" Bobby questioned, pulling the jeep out.

"Been getting into trouble, Jamie?" Samuel remarked with a smirk.

Jamie stuck his tongue out. "I'll have you know, she was commending me for my paper on Brazil!"

"History in the making!" Samuel chuckled. "Our little Multiple compliments himself."

Bobby pulled out of the parking lot. "Heaven save the name of modesty."

Jamie finally caught his breath and gave the driver a wyrd look. "You're all silly, you know that?"

"They're acting like typical big brothers," Jubilee remarked with a roll of her eyes. "Don't encourage them, Jamie."

But Jamie was smiling. Rather incidentally, he had become the center of jeep's conversation.....well, sort of. Before he could say something more of interest--

"Man, I can't believe how awful that assembly was today!" Samuel blurted out. "You were there, Bobby. Did the Junior Cheerleaders suck or what??"

"Tell me about it!" the driver chuckled. "It was like the Village People in drag! Do those girls really think they're rooting for our lacrosse team??"

"Hey!" Jubilee broke in. "My best friend's on the cheerleading squad! So mine your manners!"

"Yeah, why aren't you on the squad, Jubes?" Samuel smirked. "Afraid to shake your money maker?"

Jubilee swatted Samuel one on the shoulder. "Cut it out, you jerk!"

General laughter filled the automobile. All except for Jamie that it.

High Schoolers, he thought. What am I thinking?

Somewhere between Bobby laughing and Jubilee smacking Sam again, Jamie lost all interest altogether. Instead, he leaned exasperatingly against the window and watched as the roadsigns danced by.

***

Jamie, the Multiple, sat on a metal bench outside the doors to the Danger Room. Various scrapes and bruises marked his skin and intermittent tears embraced his black jumpsuit; evidence of an afternoon of 'training'. He was alone in the atrium, his body hunched over as he lackadaisically stared at the designs on the floor. For a split moment, he imagined himself as an adult in some sort of film noir scene. If he had a cigarette and was old enough, he would have smoked one....

"No...No no no no NO!!!"

CHA-KING!! Hssssss.

The big automatic doors to the Danger Room opened. Jamie looked up to see Logan and Cyclops walking out in even stride. That is, if you could call it even. Logan, compared to Scott, was practically boiling.

"You never aim in the general vacinity of your teammates, kid!!" the clawed-man growled. "I don't care if them eyes of yours are attached to your puny brain. You got to *think* better than that!"

"Come on!" Cyclops protested. "The laser rifle was just over her shoulder! I knew I'd hit it even if it was from a hundred yards, much less twenty!"

"Nevertheless, the Professor doesn't dig that! And you know why, bub?!" Logan leaned so far into Scott's face, the teenager openly sweat. "Cuz I don't dig that!"

As if on cue, Jubilee walked out from behind the two, her arms crossed. "Jeez....will you two not take it so seriously?! You're acting like I'm some sort of limp princess!"

Logan glared at her, "You sure that Shades here didn't singe too many of your hairs, missy?"

"Hey! Logan!" Cyclops remarked.

Logan barked at him, "I ain't talkin' to you!"

"I said I'm allright!" Jubilee moaned, her eyes doing the trademark roll. "Can I go upstairs and get to my homework??"

"Yeah...sure," Logan grumbled. "You do that." He walked towards the elevator and pointed at Cyclops, "Just make sure that dweeb studies up on his geometry!"

Scott shouted after him, "Advanced Trigonometry!! Two years running!!" No response. The elevator doors opened and closed. "Grumpy old fart...." He headed, disenchanted, to the boys' locker.

Remarkably, Jubilee took notice of Jamie in his own bubble of the universe.

"Hey Jamie," she strolled over. "All the others have left the Danger Room. What are you still doing here?"

He glanced at her, then looked back to the floor. "I ache...."

"Awww," she smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder as if he was a child. He was. "Well, that's what the Danger Room is like," she said. "For the longest time you've wanted to experience it. Now, as of last week, you got that chance. Now look at you! Heh...ain't so fun at all, is it?"

".....," there was silence. Then Jamie looked up. "You sure that Cyclops didn't hit you?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Jubilee giggled and sat down on the bench beside him. "But Logan can overreact whenever the slightest perceivable mistake occurs in training. It's like he thinks it to be his responsibility to look after the welfare of every student in the Institute."

"Isn't that the Professor's job?" Jamie asked, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought," said Jubes. "But men can be......men...sometimes. I'm sure you'll understand someday, kiddo."

Jamie returned her a sly smirk. "Don't you have homework to get to?"

"Nah," Jubilee stood up, arms crossed. "I just said that to get those two out of my hair."

"Heh....I wish I had your keen smarts," Jamie remarked.

"Someday you will, Jamie. Now do me a favor and grow up. But not too fast."

She headed towards the girl's lockers, and Jamie sat in thought.

***

The alarm clock went off. Jamie stirred then sat up in bed.

5:30 am.

The young boy encouraged himself with the fact that Wednesdays--unlike any other weekday--promised getting out of school an hour earlier than usual. Sooner than he could fight the necessity to face the waking world, Jamie's feet were on the floor.

He walked blindly over to the dresser and flipped on the light. It was then that he did a double-take. Beneath the chessboard was the familiar site of a hidden slip of paper. Jamie's tired eyes blinked.

Deja vu.

Instinctively, he reached down and slid the piece of paper out. It was indeed a postitnote, and there was some writing on it.

His handwriting:

--Sanctuary is being rebuilt--

"What kind of joke is this?" Jamie mumbled, then let out a stupid laugh. Perhaps he was staying up later at night than he had remembered.

He tossed the paper into the wastebasket without a thought and headed for the bedroom door.

***

That breakfast, there was a feeling of tension in the kitchen. Jamie could notice those things very well; since social circumstances forced him to be the silent observer. He saw Bobby, Ray, Amara, and Samuel chatting and laughing just like any other day. It was only with the older students (and Jamie had to emphasize "Older Students"), Kurt, Evan, Scott, Kitty, and the rest; that a certain level of seriousness hung over.

Of course, that seemed only natural. Jamie was a recruit who had arrived at the Institute alongside a wave of newcomers. Only a handful of the mutants had been there the longest; and it was no secret that they held the highest level of Professor Xavier's confidence.

Logan too could be committed into this 'older group'. Jamie noticed as Scott passed by Logan on the way to the refrigerator that there was a fresh knowledge--in sight or in silence--being shared by the two.

Something had to be afoot.

***

"Jubilee! Come on! You can eat your toast along the way there!"

The oriental girl ran after Bobby and Samuel, a hastily buttered slice of bread in her fair grasp. "Hold up! Jeez, it's not like the school's gonna sprout legs and walk away!" She looked behind her shoulder while exiting the front of the mansion. "Come on, Jamie! Bobby's getting his stomach in a tangle over being late to school again!"

"Coming!" Jamie panted, rushing as fast as his short legs could carry him. He was just to the door with his backpack haphazardly on when Professor Xavier's voice spilled out from behind him.

"Oh Jamie?"

The boy subordinately froze, spun about, and addressed his teacher. "Yes, Professor?"

Xavier smiled, parked at the end of the main hallway. "I was wondering, did you get enough good sleep last night?"

It seemed a silly question from a brilliant man.

Jamie paused, then answered, "Yes, sir. I slept f-fine, thank you."

"That's good." Xavier said. Immediately, he wheeled away.

"....," Jamie looked curiously after the scientist.

HONK! HONK!!

"R-Right!" Jamie dashed out the front doors. "Save me a seat!"

***

At noontime, a smushed peanut butter and jelly sandwhich emerged from the mouth of his paper lunchbag. Jamie sat at the end of a table, surrounded by the noisy confusion that was his elementary school's cafeteria. He glanced at the 'edible' object in his grasp, trying not to grimace.

He sighed and forced out a smile. "Thank you Mr. McCoy," Jamie said to the air. "But I wish Ororo would take over the job of snack making again." He quickly stashed the monstrosity back into its niche and searched through the rest of the bag. "I wonder if there're any grapes..."

Jamie's mode of hungry thought was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Startled, he spun around to grace Linda Feller, a girl that sat in back of him during history lessons. She was short, dangerously blonde for a 5th grader, and the proud owner of a suspicious grin.

"Hey there, Jamie Madrox. I have a question for you?"

The boy was confused. He struck a shy smile, "Wh-Wh-What is it?"

"Do you have a Mom and Dad? Or did that old, bald guy in the mansion where you live make you out of a vat of chemicals?"

Before Jamie could be struck back, a distant cluster of laughs and giggles emanated. He looked over Linda's shoulder to see a group of youngsters--undoubtedly friends of hers--amusingly awaiting his response.

Jamie had been a 'sideshow' before. He long thought moving to the Institute would change things. He learned that he wasn't entirely right.

"Of course," he sighed exasperatingly, "I have a Mom and Dad." A sudden anger overtook him, and he frowned animalistically at the girl. "And don't make fun of Professor Xavier!"

Linda giggled so hard at that, it nearly cracked the tabletops around the two. She hobbled back to her hive of friends and repeated rather flamboyantly "Don't make fun of my Professor!" upon which her lackeys guffawed.

Jamie's fingers clenched hard around the edges of his paper bag. Only three hours to go, he thought. The world was a mirror fogged by empty chuckles. He reached into the bag, and produced the sandwhich for one final time...

***

"Jubilee? I forget....how old are you?"

The teenage girl looked up from her Algebra notes. "Hmm? Fourteen, why do you ask?"

Jamie shrugged and returned his attention to his reading assignment. "I was just curious."

The two were seated casually on two of the benches besides the pool, engaged in their homework. Behind the Institute, the sun was slowly beginning to set. The pool's water rippled an ever-growing bath of scarlet.

"No, really Jamie, why'd you ask?" Jubilee again inquired, looking amused.

"Only 'cuz you really seem used to this place," the boy said. "I can't wait till I'm your age. Things seem a lot harder---"

"--to deal with when you're only twelve," Jubes nodded. "Yeah, I've heard that before."

"Oh....," Jamie looked blank. "So, it's just a silly thought then."

"No, merely a common one," she bookmarked the spot in her spiral notebook and thought aloud to him. "Everyone your age--everyone our age for that matter has a lot of tough stuff to deal with. But with being mutants, all of that is greater. Kinda like an exponential increase of difficulty when youth and the mutant gene is combined. But like the Professor tells us, that's just Mother Nature's way of screwing around."

Jamie uncontrollably giggled. It even caught Jubilee off guard.

"What's so funny?" she smiled.

"Yes, I remember the Professor's exact words," Jamie chuckled. "'Mother Nature Screwing Around'."

Jubilee laughed. "Okay...so I tend to translate things with a bit of a stretch. Big whooping deal. But you know what I mean, right?"

"I guess...," Jamie said, staring at his book...or staring through it. "I think I have been changing, to tell the truth."

"Hmmm?" the teenager inquired.

"Oh...well...," the boy blushed. "I've....n-not been talking to my multiples as much as I used to?"

"And you call that growing up?"

"To me it is."

"You're probably right, sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Jamie insisted. He gave a hopeful smile as he explained, "As long as I've had my power, I had an outlet. I could talk to myself, play games with myself, and even write letters to myself. But it's been lately that I've wondered....why do I have that 'outlet' to begin with?"

"What conclusion did you come to?" asked Jubilee, genuinely interested.

"Hmm?"

"What did you figure out?"

"Oh," Jamie swallowed. "That....I'm actually quite alone." A beat. "It's the silence in which I live that...makes me want to have an outlet with my power to begin with. Just by realizing that...I guess I've--I dunno--changed...grown up....something like that...."

A pause.

Jubilee stared into the crimson reflection of the pool. "Wow...that's deep."

Jamie found the time to shrug. "I have a boring book, that's all."

She giggled. "But seriously, Jamie," she gave him a warm smile. "I think you're not as alone as you believe you are. It takes a wise young lad to say the sort of things that you say. People will respect that, ya know."

Jamie caught a brief glimpse of Linda in his mind and saw her fade away. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Jubes said. Suddenly, she shot a glanced at her arm and slapped at her skin. "Dang it...mosquitoes are coming out of hiding."

"Do we have to go in already?"

"Not unless you want one of your multiples scratching your back this evening," Jubes stood up. She paused. "Dang it, you're so lucky. I wish I could have somebody scratch my back at any time I would please."

"Come to think of it," Jamie smiled. "I've never thought of trying that."

"Well, that just shows what we all take for granted. Come on."

He followed her gladly into the mansion.

***

Jamie was heading to bed.

He had put on his pjs and just finished brushing his teeth.

Walking down the hallway toward his room, he couldn't help but wander past the Professor's study room.

But on this occasion, he simply couldn't walk straight past. There was a frantic conversation going on inside. No...not a conversation, a meeting..

"...can't be serious!" someone's voice said. "You mean he's trying to build that place again??"

Curious, Jamie leaned over and planted his ear against the doorframe.

"Yes, it would appear so. His mission is of an importance that only he can fathom."

"But we're the ones who have to face its dangers! What's that guy want anyways?!"

"You should know full well, Scott. You were within his very grasp, once. He wants there to be a standard for mutant superiority. He will stop at nothing to see that human beings are placed permanently in second...maybe even into nothingness itself."

"Jeez! Like, you make it sound so scary!"

"It is something to be frightened of, Kitty. From the latest satellite detection, the nation of Israel is missing a few of its potent nuclear warheads. There's no reason to doubt that my former colleague, once a resident of that country, is taking ahold of terrorist weaponry."

"How have you come to learn all this, Charles?"

"I have my.........sources, Logan."

"Then why should we know all of this? Like, aren't we better off knowing that the world's not coming to an end?!"

"The world won't come to an end at Magneto's hands as long as the X-Men are there to stop him. He may have the means to terrorize all humans, including us, but he doesn't have the prestige. He has to make himself known to the general public before he can do anything globally motivating. We must prevent that next step at all costs..."

"This sounds like something for all of the students to be in on. Professor, should I go call the others from their sleep?"

"No, Scott. I'm trusting as few as I can on this. The X-Men must function extra covertly this time..."

Jamie's shock had reached its apex. The door to the study was open before he even saw his hand move. Soon he was standing in the center of the room; graced by the shocked silence of Professor Xavier, along with Scott, Jean, Logan, Kitty, Evan, Rogue, Kurt, Storm, and Mr. McCoy.

The boy was shivering. He didn't mean to. The room was spinning in the fire of their gazes.

"I....heard most of everything...," he stammered. His hands wrung together like loose amphibians. "Are we all going to die? Wh-What's happening?"

There was an unearthly pause. Then Kurt looked at everyone else.

"Man, vhat do we do?"

Jamie's eyes met them all. They all met his...except one pair.

Jean's. She was glancing to her left. She was looking at the Professor, and the Professor nodded to her.

The boy's fists clenched, "What's going on here?! Why are we in danger?! Why haven't you told us, the new recruits?"

"Jamie??" Jean stood up in concern--or at least it was supposed to look like concern. "Jamie....honey, you look ill...."

"I'm not...," before he could finish the sentence, he nearly lost his footing. A sudden wave of dizziness wracked his brain. "I....I...," he stumbled and reached haphazardly to a nearby desktop for balance. "...can't...stand..."

"Charles, please...," it was Logan's voice. Pleading...

Jamie's eyes snaked across the room. Professor Xavier was seated awkwardly...two pairs of fingers to his temples...staring fixedly at him.

"Jamie?" Jean came over and held his hand. "Look at me....where are you feeling ill?" "My....my...," Jamie toppled over into the teenager's arms. There were bodies huddled around him...watching...waiting....

His brain melted into his stomach....

"My tummy....so sick..." He coughed and rolled back his eyes as the world collapsed in a sigh.

***

"Gettin' around already, tiger?" Jubilee's warm voice entered Jamie's ears.

He sat up slowly, achingly, then plopped back down into bed with a moan. "I feel ill..."

"I should say so," the girl said. She was seated on his bedside. Gently, she placed a wet washcloth across his forehead. "You missed school on account of being sick."

He blinked slowly. "What time is it?" The boy slurred.

"Four Thirty in the afternoon...er...approximately," she replied with a sheepish smile. "You missed a grand ol' Thursday with that bug you caught."

"Bug?" Jamie asked. He clutched his stomach and winced in pain. "Is that what it is?"

"That's what Ororo told me after checking you," she said. "Tell me, what do you remember last?"

"I....," Jamie thought hard, his aching mind straining. "I...was finishing brushing my teeth..." Just the thought of the taste of toothpaste was making him nauseous. "And...I was walking down the hall....when I suddenly fainted besides the Professor's office...."

"Sounds about right," Jubilee nodded. "That's where Jean said she found you and carried you to Ororo to see what was wrong."

"She...she carried me?" Jamie managed a smile. "How funny..."

"Yeah, well she certainly doesn't stick to the job," Jubilee reapplied the washcloth. "Guess what, I'm your official caregiver!"

"Really?"

"Yep."

"You were hired?"

"No, silly, volunteered," she chuckled. "Plus, I think I owe you the favor."

"What for?" he slurred.

"For making me think yesterday, by the poolside. You should start your own talk show, you know that?"

"Ugh...as soon as I get better," he said.

"Yeah, really. Just what the heck did you eat to get you this way?"

"I...I d-did have a very ugly peanut butter and jelly sandwhich at lunchtime..."

"Heh, what wonders that'll do for you," she rolled her trademark eyes. "Do you need anything in specific?"

"I...could use a trip to the bathroom?"

"To do what?"

"....n-not sure yet." "Yikes," Jubilee got up from the bedside. "I won't get in your way then. You go on ahead and use the boy's room. I got to go fetch my math from my room. But I'll be back, don't worry."

She left quicker than his eyes could move. It took ages for him to sit up straight...not to mention a few more centuries to get on his feet.

Jamie was now shuffling sickly towards the door to his bedroom. But then a thought occurred to him. And rather quickly for his icky state of health, he turned around and stumbled over towards the dresser; partially bathed by the afternoon light through the lazy window.

His weak eyes sought the countertop, traced the edges of the chessboard, and found....

Nothing.

"Huh...figures."

He was about to go, but something inside of Jamie made him pause. He looked back at the chessboard, stretched out a shaking hand, and slid it over an inch.

A white slip of paper showed its ugly face.

Footsteps rocketed passed his doorway. Jamie all but shreaked. Rahne and Rob were chasing each other down the hallway, laughing about something or another. Soon, Jamie caught his breath. Cobra-fast, he snatched the paper and lifted it up to his weary eyes.

The words were undeniably in his handwriting...yet much messier than the previous two days'. They read:

--I am not sick. Magneto has nukes. I am not sick--

A chill ran through Jamie; much worse than any illness could cause. Yet he didn't know why. He had no idea what the word 'Magneto' meant. But he was familiar with nukes and sickness.

Why was he doing this to himself? Was he writing stuff in his sleep? The product of dreams? -I am not sick. Magneto has nukes.--

He scanned the paper again, then glanced at the wastebasket. Why this foolish monotony.

--I am not sick.--

In a fit of confusion, Jamie crumpled the paper up into a ball, tossed it high and far, and landed it square in the wastebasket. The gravity of it all pushed his stomach off.

It was pretty good aim; considering an invalid.

***

The Professor's voice literally shook Jamie out of his seat at the kitchen table.

"Wh-What was that?" he turned around nervously.

The main in the wheelchair seemed to glow when set against the darkness of the night-encased window behind him. Until then, Jamie had been alone in the room.

"I said," the Professor repeated while smiling, "...you seem to be feeling better, young Jamie."

Jamie grinned, "Oh y-yes. If you're looking for Jubilee, she stepped out for a moment to check on Kurt. Th-they're both working on a project together."

"Oh no, I came by to check up on you, not Miss Lee," the man wheeled over. "That was quite a spell that took over you last evening."

Jamie swallowed, "Sp-spell?"

"Fainting spell," Professor nodded with a smile. Always smiling. "It had us all worried for a while. Thankfully Ororo found out that it was just something you ate. You sure you're feeling better?"

Jamie took a breath before saying, "Quite well, Professor. Thank you."

"Splendid. I look forward to your next training session," he said as he ambled by and out the kitchen. "You seem to be increasing the levels of your power, you know."

"Yeah...heheh," Jamie responded to the air. For again he was alone.

Yet not for long. Another door burst open and in walked Jubilee, furiously writing in her spiral notebook.

"I swear...if Kurt doesn't take an ESOL course soon, I'm gonna be writing this whole dang report myself," she looked up and smiled. "Oh hi there, mister! How can I help you today?"

Jamie giggled. "You have a lot of energy right now."

"A lot of perseverance, I'd say," she sat down at the table across from him and finished one last line with a stroke of her pen. "Kurt can have as much energy he wants and yet not add a blasted thing to this report."

Jamie ignored her. "The Professor was in here."

"Yeah, and?"

A pause. "N-Nothing, he was just.......in here," Jamie said with a shy smile.

Jubilee looked right through it, although she chose gradually to reveal her curiosity. "Jamie? You seem.....I dunno.......troubled?"

"Yeah....I guess."

"Feeling another wave of nausea?"

"No, I'm much better now."

"What's bothering you, you think?"

"......."

"You can be honest with me, Jamie."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Well.....I....have been finding these wyrd notes lately..."

Jubilee's eyebrow lifted. "Notes?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Got a secret admirer, have we?" she grinned.

"Huh?" he gasped. "Oh no no no no no no. Good heavens, not that."

She giggled. "What, pray tell?"

"Well.....they're notes that I've written."

"What could possibly be so strange about them?"

Jamie took a while to think it over before he gazed into her and said, "I....don't remember writing them."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said I don't remember ever writing these notes..."

"What notes?"

"Notes in my room," Jamie sighed. "I've been waking up for the last three days and finding them on my dresser. I don't remember writing them the night before."

"Postitnotes?"

"Yeah...kinda like that."

"Well, what do they say?"

Jamie opened his mouth to reply......yet didn't. Something was holding him back.

Jubilee saw it. "Jamie?"

"Scary things," he said with a whimper.

A pause.

"How so?"

"I....well, they're kinda creepy."

"Like, give me an example."

"I don't think I should."

"Jamie!" Jubilee laughed. "You're acting as if you're part of some sort of secret service intelligence angency! Is this some sort of game you play with yourself?"

"No! Honest!" he replied. "It's seriously freaking me out! I think I could be writing this stuff late at night when I'm too tired to know what I'm doing with a pen!"

Jubilee leaned back in her chair and gave Jamie a silly look. "Jamie?"

"Huh?"

"Did you ever think that one of your multiples could be writing these things while you yourself are sleeping?"

There was a long pause. Jamie's mouth would have dropped through the floor if he dared to open it sooner.

"I....," he stammered. "I never even thought of that...."

"Well, it'd make sense to me if I was you," she chuckled. "I mean...how many nights have I woken up to find burnt marks on my pillowcase and bedsheets?"

Jamie smirked, "Your powers go off in your sleep?"

"Yeah!" she nodded. "Sounds kinda silly, but sparks can fly while I'm visiting my own little fantasy world."

"I wonder what kind of fantasy worlds they are, then," Jamie said.

"Jamie!" Jubilee whapped his shoulder with her spiral notebook. "You're not supposed to be making those kind of jokes so young!"

Jamie split into two copies. Both laughed, "Jeez! I thought you were my caregiver, not my notebook slapper!"

"Well, you're not moaning anymore," she said, dropping the spiral down onto the tabletop.

The Jamies chuckled for a few more moments, but after rejoining into one being, he became silent with an all too heavy sigh.

"You sure you're okay?" Jubilee asked. "If indeed it is your other multiple doing this at night, we could arrange something with the Professor to help guard that."

Awkwardly enough, Jamie's immediate response was, "No, please not Xavier."

"Hmm?" Jubilee looked confused.

Jamie cleared his throat, "What I mean is...it's not worth troubling the Professor over. I've just been...antsy lately. Especially with the onset of this sickness, I'm liable to let anything frighten me."

"You gotta give your multiples a lesson to," Jubilee said. "No more sleepwalking."

"Yeah...or sleepwriting...," Jamie said. He glanced at the floor. "Fascinating..."

"What's that?"

"I'm not even the faintest sick right now..."

***

The alarm went off.

Immediately, Jamie knew that it was Friday morning. He all but sprang out of bed and stretched his limbs out. Then came the all--too--familiar bloodrush associated with getting up quickly. He chuckled at his own stupidity and walked over to the dresser, upon which he flipped on the lamp's switch.

Immediately he saw the cold presence of the chessboard. In fact, he found himself staring down at it...deadpan. He couldn't see any paper poking out from beneath it. It beckoned to him to look further.

But Jamie didn't.

"Not this time, evil twin," he stepped away from the dresser...and left his room.

Over the next thirty minutes, Jamie practically forgot about the postitnotes from the previous days. He was too busy changing into schoolclothes, sucking down some breakfast, and straightening his cow-licked hair. He had a way of swimming through the larger people who shared the mansion with him, so that he got to his tasks quickly and without the hassle that the teens were accustomed too. It was one benefit to being small.

Soon, there were but a few minutes before he'd join Jubilee, Bobby, and Samuel in the jeep to school. He realized that he forgot a vocabulary book in his room, so he ventured back to stash it into his backpack. While fumbling through his stuff upon the bed, an invisible impulse tapped him on the shoulder. He slowly turned and looked towards the dresser where the chessboard rested like a ghost in a spider's web.

He smirked for no good reason and zipped up his backpack. Hastily, he made for the doorway....but stopped dead before he was past the frame. He flexed his fingers and stretched his toes.

There was no fighting it.

Slowly, like oil in water, he reversed course and headed straight for the dresser. He placed a hand onto the cold surface of the chessboard, took a breath, and slid it over.

Jamie's gaze was so intent on seeing nothing, that he nearly ignored the words 'last night' and 'fought' altogether. But a delayed heartbeat later, he had shut his eyes and reopened them in a new focus. A slip of paper rested clearly in his view. And in naked pen, his handwriting said:

--Magneto snuck in last night. They fought him in the attic.--

The boy shook uncontrollably, and he literally picked the chessboard off from the counter and slammed it down over the paper. It didn't fail to turn the words invisible. They were burning in his brain.

"Jamie?!" Jubilee's voice called from somewhere in the farthest reaches of the dark mansion. "Are you coming or what?"

He panted. "I'm coming," he whispered so that no one would hear. "I'm coming...."

Jamie strolled backwards, quickly, and dashed out of his room. He all but ran into Jubilee outside in the hallway.

"Whoah! What's the rush, Jamie? It's only school," she exclaimed with a playful grin.

He tried to return the expression. Thankfully, she didn't catch his nail-biting-nervousness.

Samuel joined them. "Hey, y'all."

"You look gloomy this morning, Sam," Jubilee said as she ushered herself and Jamie out towards the front entrance. "What's on your mind?"

"More like what's not on my shoulders," he moaned.

"Eh?"

"I can't find my jacket," he said. "I'll be freezing today for sure."

"Well, did you look everywhere?"

"Yeah," he said, opening one of the front doors for the three of them. "Everywhere in the Institute...except the attic."

"Mmm? Why not rush up there now?"

"No can do," Samuel sighed. "Logan's got the attic blocked off."

Jamie gasped, he looked at the two of them with fervent interest.

"Why on earth for?" Jubilee asked.

"It's some wyrd training session," Samuel explained. "Sounds important, though. Scott's staying home to help Logan out with it. I heard they've done the sort of thing before."

"Yeah...figures. I bet your jacket's up there, too," Jubilee said.

Samuel sighed. "Most likely."

They were in the jeep by then. Jamie didn't notice. His heart was pounding and his mind was racing the whole way to his elementary school.

***

Concentration in the classroom was nearly impossible all day. Even facing Linda at lunchtime seemed to pass like a dream. By the time Jamie got home, he was in real need of a shower. A real cold shower.

"What's gotten you so upset lately?" Jubilee asked him later that afternoon as they walked through the living den. "Kids your age should be playing videogames, not running up the walls."

He barely talked to her, though. He was significantly quiet that afternoon; contrasting with the talkative spirit he had shared all week with Jubilee. He was glad that she had taken care of him when he was sick and all, but now his mind was the one feeling an ailment. He had to fine peace....someway, somehow.

He had to root it out.

Jamie wandered aimlessly around the mansion that evening. There was a rumbling through the walls, and soon he realized that a storm was brewing. Eventually, lightning flashes started to eat their way in through the windows; brightening all the hidden corners of the Institute.

The boy was always afraid of lightning. He wished he was in the living den surrounded by his fellow students. Or in the kitchen, sharing a story within the safe circle of Jubilee's friendliness. But instead, his unconscious feet took him up three flights of stairs...somewhere he didn't want to be.

Rounding the corner, Jamie saw Scott zipping up an equipment bag of sorts. Beyond him were the steps that led to the grand attic of the mansion. There were two tables--of all things--stacked up on top of each other just at the bottom of the flight; with a sign that read in ugly permanent ink: "Training, Keep Out".

Scott hoisted the bag over his shoulder and turned to head down the hallway. At the sight of Jamie, he froze and put on a fast food smile.

"Did school go well for you today?" he asked.

Jamie stared at him.

"......," Scott gazed back. "Um...Jamie?"

"What? I'm sorry."

"How was school today."

"Fine," the boy replied. "How should it have been?"

"I dunno," Scott shrugged and paced that way a bit. Thunder rolled in the earth beyond. "You were pretty sick yesterday. I didn't know if you handled the next day back well or not."

"I handled it pretty well," Jamie put on his own smirk. "Thanks for caring."

"Don't mention it," Scott nudged the boy's shoulder. "Heck, I didn't carry you to Ororo's place for nothing."

Jamie breathed in. "I was told Jean had carried me."

There was a strobe of light striking Scott's profile, followed slowly by lightning that--as long as it took--adequately filled the awkward space of the teenager's pause. "Yes....well," Scott chuckled. "She helped."

"Oh."

Jamie was alone in the hallway now. Scott had left him in a hurry. It was for the best, for Jamie knew that the teen in shades would say 'no' to what he was about to do next...

Pressing his small body up against the wall, Jamie slid easily past the stacked chairs...and marched up the stairway. He had been in the attic before. It smelled like silverware and had huge ventilation shafts of metal hanging overhead. He had gone there once, following Bobby and Amara; who claimed that they were going on a 'ghost hunt'. But this time, Jamie was alone...and the only ghosts--he hoped--were the flashes of mother nature eating their way in, followed by echoing thunder.

As soon as Jamie stood at the top of the stairway, he knew he could accept a ghost anyday.

The place no longer smelled of silverware...but more like burnt rust. Where large, extravagant windows had once stretched lengthwise with the mansion, a huge makeshift tarp was dangling in the wind and rain outside. But most graphic of all were the ventilation shafts; no longer there. That was it...they were gone.

Jamie looked all around him.

They weren'te gone....they were everywhere. Shards of metal, in the shapes of spears and knives lay stuck into wooden beams, floors, and walls. Twisted worms of aluminum rested in the corner; slain by claw marks and bony spikes. But when Jamie studied the tarp close up, he realized that the attic itself was secretly composed of a metallic shell. He realized this...because ten square feet of the wall and ceiling had been torn open like a can opener. A giant's fist through the essence of indestructible metal.

GRAB!!!

Jamie felt himself hoisted up from the ground, flying three feet up. A growl filled his frightened ears as he was flown down the stairway like a bullet and tossed into the hall on his stumbling legs.

"Can't you read, kid?!?!" yelled a very, very irate Logan. "The attic's off limits!"

Jamie stood up. He wasn't shaking anymore.

"Did you hear me?!" Logan leapt down from the stairway and approached the little boy sternly. "I thought I made it clear to everybody this morning! No one's allowed in there until I say so!"

Jamie looked directly into the Wolverine's face. The thunder spilled outside and filled his mouth.

"Why?!" he demanded.

Logan stepped back, as if struck. But a half-second later, he regained his angry composure. "Excuse me, bub?!"

"Why can't I go in there??" Jamie took a step forward. He jabbed a pointed finger towards the stairway, "What's in there that's so important that none of us have to know?!"

For the first time that Jamie knew him, Logan was flustered.

"You....I....What gives, kid?!"

"You're hiding something!" the boy knew he was signing his death warrant when it came to living at the Institute. Yet, as his thoughts stumbled on the papers, he no longer worried. "I don't know why or how...but you're hiding something. And it's.....it's not right! It's not right at all!"

"Listen to me, mouse," Logan flared, lifting a finger. "You are THIS close from washing the X-Jet for life!"

"I don't care!" Jamie shouted, surprising the adult further. "I need to know the truth!"

"What's going on up here?"

Logan looked over Jamie's shoulder. Scott and Jean had appeared from around the corner. Lightning flashed once, brightening their shocked faces.

"The little nut's going ballistic on me," Logan said in a calm voice that betrayed even him. "Help me out!"

"They're in on it too, aren't they?" Jamie frowned. "Everyone must be in on it! Training, indeed!"

"For the last time, will you--"

"IT'S NOT SOME TRAINING THAT WRECKED THAT ATTIC!!" Jamie shrieked. "IT WAS SOMEONE NAMED MAGNETO!!!" An appropriate crack of lightning blinded Jamie from the blankness on Logan's face. Scott's mouth dropped. Jean gasped.

"Oh my god...," she uttered.

Jamie breathed deeply, because for the first time in his life he felt taller than everybody else.

And it was then that fate would have it; Xavier's telepathic voice entered his mind.

"Jamie, could I see you in my office, please?"

Jamie glanced at the others and realized that they must have heard the Professor too. They were straightening their posture as ants to a Queen.

Jamie still had an ounce of fear. "Can I go by my room first?" He couldn't understand why he asked that. The papers seemed to provide some sense of security....now of all times.

"Fine....but come to my room right away."

There was no touch of gentility in the Professor's telepathic voice. Jamie wouldn't be surprised if the man had no smile in secret.

"Excuse me....," he said so slowly, he couldn't keep track of it. "But I must go talk to the Professor, now."

All three were silent. Slowly, the little boy marched downstairs. The thunder seemed distant now. Whatever laughter his teen roommates shared was in another world. He even became faintly aware of Jubilee smiling and waving 'hi' to him, but quickly slipping away to some place fantastical.

And sooner than he knew it, he was in his room. His dark, dark room.

"I'm here.....," he spoke to the thunder-rattled windows. "What do I do now?"

Silence.

Lightning splashed into place, giving the walls something to shine about. Light bounced everywhere, illuminating the dresser and giving the chessboard an eerie glow. It was that last object that Jamie found himself staring at the most, and rightfully so.

He exhausted a lot of time standing there, gazing at the gameboard that he never played...yet it had spoken to him so much in the past week that it beat any oracle known to man.

All the time he was experiencing a mental tug to visit the Professor...right away. He couldn't tell which thoughts were his and which were of a mysterious teacher anymore. But there was one thing that little Jamie was sure of; and that was the unstoppable clockwork of human ingenuity.

He wandered over to his bedside table and opened a drawer. Inside was a perfectly usable pad of postitnotes. He removed one piece, found a blank-ink pen laying beside it...its cap off. He took the pen and scribbled something onto the fresh piece of paper. He took time in doing it, letting his handwriting be his handwriting; sloppy or not. That done, he moved smoothly over to the dresser, threw the old message away, and placed the new piece of paper under the chessboard. He slid the chessboard over so that part of the postitnote was showing from underneath it. But then he paused, thought it over, and slid the chessboard completely over it.

Concealing it.

"Jamie? Are you coming?"

The boy inhaled. "Yes, Professor." He walked briskly out of the room.

***

The thunder was dissipating as Jamie opened the door to the Professor's office. It was pitch black inside, save for the crimson dance of fire in the fireplace. Shadowed in the scarlet was an aged man in a wheelchair, his fingers folded together, his face hidden in nothingness.

"Close the door behind you, Jamie," the Professor said, out loud.

Jamie obeyed. He quietly shut it behind him and wandered over to where the Professor sat.

"Sit down."

Jamie glared. "I'd rather stand."

"..................all right," the Professor took a calm breath and leaned his shadowy self back. "You were up in the attic, weren't you?"

"I'm not the only one who's been up there," Jamie answered, solidly...yet calmly.

"Of course," Xavier nodded. The fire danced against his stone face. "Logan, Scott, and Jean were up there..."

"I saw bone fragments," Jamie added.

A pause. "Evan too," said Xavier. He then sighed, as a parent would express to an impatient child. "Jamie...," he rolled on, "....what do you intend to accomplish."

"I cannot accomplish anything without the support of my teammates and comrades," Jamie quickly responded. "That's something you taught us yourself, Professor. But I don't think people are working that way."

"How are they working then?"

Jamie paused. Then he said, "I think they are working against each other."

"Why?"

"I do not know, but it's not right," the little boy took a deep breath. "It's not right to tell everyone one thing and expect each half to behave differently?"

"Each....half? Jamie?" Xavier seemed to be faking confusion.

"Well, that's what it is, isn't it?!" Jamie cried out with fervor. "That's what's it's always been! Old recruits and new recruits! One half is always on top of the other! There's an uneven...uneven...er...unevenness to what makes the X-Men who they are!"

"How have you come to know this?" Xavier asked.

"I....I just know...," Jamie said, staring into the fire. "A house divided...that's what we live in." He glared back at Xavier. "And for whatever reason it exists...it's blinding a lot of us from this 'Magneto' person who attacked last night!"

There was a long pause.

Xavier's hands slowly found their ways to the wheels of his chair. He rolled himself into the firelight, and Jamie saw the true Professor...the one hidden between the folds of twisted metal in the attic where a mere tarp was used for cover.

"A house divided......is what you're used to, Jamie."

Jamie's heart fell. "No...."

"A house divided......is in your blood....."

"No, Professor, please," Jamie wept.

Xavier went on, smooth as glass...cold as ice. "A mother who hides you from truant officers so you won't be 'polluted' by school."

"Please!!" Jamie clutched his head and struggled before the fire. "Stop it!!"

"A father who plays a game of seeing how many duplicates of his son can fit in the trunk of his car...."

"STOP!!!!" Jamie screeched.

"And then a loving man comes in to offer the child a home. To offer the poor, sweet child a place to discover who he is and where his stands and where the line is drawn between silence and suffering."

And suddenly, the thunder found its way into Jamie's mouth. "YOU ARE A MONSTER!!!"

Xavier doubled back in his wheelchair, startled.

Streams of tears flew down Jamie's face as he pointed at the man. "YOU'RE A SOUL DESTROYER!! Magneto might tear through walls of metal....BUT YOU TEAR THROUGH PEOPLE'S MINDS!!!!!!"

Xavier bit his lip, and yet he remained staring at the boy without faltering.

"What's wrong with the truth?! Why break into our thoughts and make us more afraid of you than the freaks that are out to end the world with nuclear warheads or sanctuary or whatnot?!" Jamie sniffed, wiping his wet face with a shaking wrist. He stared at Xavier through moist eyes, awaiting a response.

Slowly and surely, he got it.

"You're such a remarkable boy, Jamie," Xavier said, his voice even shaky. "Of all the children who have ever learned to balance their gifts under their tutelage, you've been the most clever, the most curious...the most wise." He leaned forward on his knuckles as he added, "But you.....are....just....a...child. Much like the rest of your friends here. They're child in spirit. You are a child in sould AND in flesh. That what makes my task all the more difficult, in making you forget over and over again the splendid little bits of information that you always seem to get a hand on. It looks like you keep finding a way around my precautions, and I'm at a loss as to find out how. You're that deep...you're that amazing."

Jamie looked at Xavier long and hard. "What's amazing....is that I ever chose you over the road."

That took a while for Xavier to think on. "You might think the road is better than what I'm granting you, boy. But someday I'll open the gates of knowledge to you, and by my guidance you'll see that the world is filled with greater evils than you can imagine. True, I let the older students know of this mainly because they stumbled upon it with such mass and such incidence that to strip them of the truth would destroy the X-Men from their very roots. But as it so be now, they're the only ones qualified to know. They've attained my respect, they've attained my trust, and thus...they've attained my knowledge."

Silence. The crackling of the fire ate over the thunder.

Slowly, a smile came to Xavier's lips. He leaned back into the shadows. "Now, young Jamie." He sighed. "Do you think I'm such an unreasonable monster now?"

".......," Jamie sniffed. "You know what I think?"

Xavier listened.

"I think....I think that one only needs the qualifications of being human to attain knowledge. And if that is truly the case, I'd be better off working for this 'Magneto' of yours."

The smile immediately left Xavier's face. He took a deep inhale before whispering hoarsely, "You'll regret saying that...."

Jamie stood still, watching the man in the dark. The fire was beginning to dim into a red glow...then into a dot. Soon Jamie realized that his sight was leaving his mind...and the rest of the senses with it.

"When you awake....," Xavier spoke, "....I'll see about asking that Jamie about transferring to another boarding house...."

***

Jamie awoke without the alarm clock.

That meant it was Saturday.

A sudden excitement jerked him out of his bed. Yet it wasn't some childish enthusiasm to rush to the t.v. or gorge on cereal. Something inexplicably numb rested in the center of his conscious; like a vacancy of reason. A great deal was missing from the little boy's life, and the one thing he felt could explain it was the mystery that had been plaguing him from the top of the dresser all week.

On sleeping feet he stumbled across his bedroom. He fumbled nervously at the chessboard, aiming for the content beneath it like it was a drug. When at last he removed the peace of paper, he all but staggered to his knees.

His handwriting sang:

--I must not trust the Professor. He erases my mind each night.--

Jamie found himself sweating profusely, for his attention had shot immediately to the wastebasket. He dove for it, his hands and fingers rummaging through the rubbish. There was the note of the attic, of the nukes, of the 'sanctuary', and the flying metal in New York.

But he kept digging. There was more...

--Kurt is the son of a shape-shifter--

He grabbed another note.

--The older recruits were under Mesmero--

His hands swam through tons of notes, discarded from endless past mornings in the wastebasket.

--The soccer game was a battleground--

--A technician broke into Cerebro--

--Project Rebirth is destroyed--

Soon, Jamie was hyperventilating. He tried to get onto his feet, but tripped. Plunging down, he knocked the wastebasket over...spilling its contents everywhere.

The boy snaked into a corner and hugged his knees, surrounded by a sea of postitnotes entombed by an amnesiac inside his shell of a body. He shivered. He wanted so desperately to hug someone. To know that his tomorrow would be aware of his today. He thought of Jubilee and how much he wanted to hear hear comforting words. But Jamie could never feel that secure about anything or anybody again.

The world had suddenly got a whole lot lonelier...