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The Missing Year: A XMDD and M,R Fanfic


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The Missing Year

 

A X-Men Darkest Days & Marvel, Rebirth Fanfiction by AuRon

 

So I guess I should offer an explanation. This also counts as an introduction, I think. The following is a series of fanfictions written in the year-long gap between XMDD and M,R. If you didn’t already catch that from my “creative” choice in titles. When XMDD suffered a rather abrupt ending and a promise for a sequel game, it left a number of plot threads hanging. Flash forward a year IC and a whole lot has changed. For many characters, this  “missing year” was a period of intense introspective thought, reinventions, revelations, and deciding to become murderers for hire. The characters, mind you. Not the writers. So, since a good deal of important stuff happened “off-screen”, I seek to capture it here in these stories. I have only written with characters that I have gotten permission to use, and I have strived to be as faithful as possible to how characters were written in both games.

 

TL:DR? I wanted to write a story about our characters.

 

(PS: You guys can talk about it here if you'd like).

The Missing Year: Kristen’s Story


-01


Christine's words before departing weren't heard by Christine alone. Kristen stood not that far away, holding her side and frowning as she watched Christine walked into the rain.

 

"I guess we'll go shopping later then," Kristen murmured to herself as she lost sight of Christine. She sighed as she turned around, and headed back through the Institute. A hand clamped down upon her remaining shoulder, resulting in her jumping in place, and almost activating her powers before she turned to look at the figure. It was one of the students, and it dimly clicked in Kristen's mind that he had the room across the hall from her's.

 

"You know... That was quite a return you made back here the other day. Even better that I happened to witness it with my two eyes... And with my phone's camera," He whispered into Kristen's ear. Kristen promptly froze, and felt her hand ball into a fist as her face turned red.

 

"What do you want?" Kristen growled, "I don't own anything you know."

 

"I just need you to do me some favors... At my discretion. If you don't do what I say... Or try to tell anyone of our agreement, a certain picture of you is gonna be sent to every guy in this school," The student replied.

 

Blackmail. Kristen frowned, restraining the urge to punch him, or try to see if she could still absorb this guy's memories. He couldn't watch her 24/7, and when she was clear, she would just tell Alaric. Or someone who could help her...

 

"Fine," Kristen replied, forcing herself to relax and have a straight face, "I'll do what you ask. After I recover."

 

With that, she headed away, leaving the now-perplexed student behind...

 

---

 

Several days later, Kristen tried to grab a hold of the tomato again. Alex had decided that this test was the best before she tried to do anything extreme such as fighting... And also gave her the opportunity to learn how to clean it off. Gently, or as best as she could, she lifted the Tomato, trying to regulate the amount of pressure she applied to it. Her new arm glinted as the morning sun's rays shone through the window of the kitchen, and mirrored Kristen's mood. She'd asked Alex about it after Christine left. He was able to oblige her request. Kristen had been surprisingly cheerful throughout the process, even when it took many painful hours to connect the artificial and organic nerves together. She'd been told to try and avoid doing anything crazy like trying to single-handedly fight off an army while she recovered, as she needed the time to become used to her new limb. The thought was, if she could control her arm from crushing a Tomato, then she could control her arm. So far, the counter had been stained red with Tomato juice from her failed attempts.

 

Kristen frowned as she applied too much pressure and crushed the fruit in her metallic hand. Sighing, she dropped the remains of the fruit, and busied herself with cleaning the metallic limb. At least it was an easier adjustment to get used to than some of the other things in her life. Classes would hopefully be resuming again, and Kristen had to get caught up on her virtually non-existent knowledge of things that school teaches.

 

At least it beat fighting for her life on a daily basis.


"Kristen Hailey," a voice said. A voice that had promised her something. Either her name was going about, or he had found it out somehow, "We had a deal..."


She stiffened, then trying to play it off by cleaning up the mess she had made, "... Yeah, a deal..."


She didn't turn around to look at him. To be honest, she didn't want to. She just wanted to get this favor done with and go on her way. That's why she was surprised when he reached an arm around her and grabbed her.


Kristen cried out, but the sound never left her mouth. She was making the sounds of surprise, but something was nullifying the sound. The student just chuckled to himself, drawing her close to fully embrace her.


"Silence fields," he said, "that's my power... No one can hear you so long as I keep it up. Want to say anything about it? Oh right, you can't."


Kristen tried to struggle her way out of this student's grip as he laughed. It wasn't a kind laugh. He just quickly turned her around and kissed her.


M-my first kiss... She thought, trying to enjoy it or anything other than panicking... But something inside herself repulsed her. She didn't know what, or why, but it felt wrong. And gross. And it wasn't just that it was bad- it was the thought that she was kissing a guy.


She quickly pulled back, instinctively trying to wipe his taste off her mouth with her arm- but it was her prosthetic. The ice-cold metal just made her recoil in shock, and she had no time to do anything else. The student quickly grabbed her shirt and threw her to the ground, aiming a precise kick to her stomach. The sound of her hitting the ground, and the kick hitting her were missing too. Sadly. Kristen crumpled into a ball, her cries of pain silenced before they could even leave her mouth.


"You're a lousy kisser," he mocked, kneeling over her, "At least you look good."


Kristen whimpered. Or she would have, if her voice was still silent.


He simply laughed again, "Oh, and if you have any thoughts of squealing... I still have quite a few pictures of you... For someone who just recently became a woman, you sure are pretty firm!"


Her eyes closed, trying not to cry in front of this student. Much to his pleasure, she failed.


"The field should wear off in a bit, until then... I have to get to class. See you later, you dumb broad."


And then he left. Ten minutes later, she could hear herself breathing deeply as she tried to control her tears. Her stomach hurt, a dull aching sort of pain, and she was still having trouble getting her breathing back to normal. When she slowly got back up onto her feet, she stumbled forward, out of the kitchen and into the rest of the school. Preferably her room, which was still situated on the guy’s side of the school. She couldn’t think of anything else other than her encounter with the boy, his warnings forcing her to look about every couple of minutes to see if he was following her. She only stopped when she returned to her room and laid down on her bed. She still ached.


She was sure to wipe away her tears when she went down for dinner that night.


---


Kristen didn't participate in school for the entirety of that term. With a lack of headmaster following Beast's death, and Alaric vanished to nowhere, there was a lack of leadership. As well as teachers. That wasn't her most important worry. A few days after her first encounter with the student, she had finally learned of his name. Joey. Joey Walker. He stood taller than her by at least a couple of inches, as well as the fact that he had a great deal more strength and muscles than her. His orange-red hair almost draped to his shoulders, and his brown eyes had a sinister shimmer to them.


It had only been a few days since she had met him in the kitchen... But she had grown to hate his eyes. As well as a lot of other things about him. She quickly learned how to “properly” kiss according to Joey as well. After the second beating, she finally was able to kiss him without being beaten for her lack of “skills”. He still hit her because he could. She also became good at figuring out how to hide the bruises on her body and legs.


While Joey’s demeanor to her occupied her thoughts, it was only half of the time. The rest of the time her mind was trying to accept her other predicament, and figuring out how to get help about it.


"... You want advice on how to be a woman..?" Dallas asked. It wasn't the weirdest question he'd ever been asked... But he did expect Kristen to ask someone else.


"Yes. I want better advice on how to be a girl."


"Is this because of the guy that I see you hanging out with? Because you two would actually make-"


"Dallas! Please! He's just- just a..." Kristen stammered, her face turning a bright red as she tried to search for the right words to explain what Joey exactly was.


"A friend? Got it Card. Then what do you want? Other than my shirts."


"I just want some advice. Something that'll make me seem less like a bumbling idiot and more like someone who can actually control their bodily functions."


"... We need to go shopping more."


"How is that supposed to me make me more feminine?"


"For one? New pants. These jeans flatter my ######, and my ###### alone. And you've been renting them for three weeks. And I use renting very loosely, since all you've given me for them is a nickel you found in the courtyard last weekend... Not even a lucky nickel. It was face down."


Kristen instantly tried to see how well her ###### looked in the mirror positioned not far from in front of Dallas' couch. While doing so, she noticed... Dallas. She never had noticed before now, which was strange... He was... Just a friend, right? But he looked so handsome... Defined shoulders, nice chin, great hair, amazing ######... There was a lot that Kristen realized she liked about him. Physically, at least. And he was her best only friend...


She instantly tried to put the thoughts out of her head. Dallas was her best friend, yes, but not in that way... Right?


"Maybe... Maybe I should find something a bit more... Effeminate?" Kristen asked.


"Like what? Miniskirts? Of all the things that you could possibly wear, don't pick miniskirts card. I know I always say "dress to kill", but I don't mean "dress to slay"."


"You never say that though..."


"I should have. At some point."


"Well- ah, maybe I should just try... Everything?” She asked, stroking her chin, “Since I am stuck, wouldn't the best way for me to find what I like the best is to just try everything?"


Dallas mused on the thought for the briefest of moments. Or perhaps the longest, from his perspective. Being in control of time gave him that luxury to pick and choose when he wanted to slow things down, or speed things up, "Deal. Have any money?"


"Do you?"


"Good! Then tomorrow we go and hit the mall. I think nobody has wrecked the school car yet, so we can take that, relieve a couple of people of their hard-earned cash, and grab a couple of slices of pizza."


"Sounds great," Kristen said with a nod, gently rubbing her metallic shoulder as she opened his dorm’s door and took a step out, "And after we go shopping, you can have your pants back, okay?"


"Wash them first. Tali would never forgive me if she found out I had another woman on them."


She closed the door on her way out, not before giving Dallas a small smile.


---


"Tali!"


The older woman stopped and turned to see Kristen clumsily jogging towards her, leaning awkwardly towards the side of her replaced arm. She hadn't gotten the hang of walking either, her strides more accustomed to a boy's body rather than her current one.


"Kristen," Tali greeted, nodding at her. Whenever Kristen approached her, she could feel her inner turmoil. Her confusion, her anger at John… As well as anger and… Fear? Anger and fear. At someone else, not John Howlett. She couldn’t place who it was, but it was something she’d have to look into later.


"Uhm- I needed to ask you a question Tali..."


"Shoot."


"Ah- what... What should I do to make myself more girly?" Kristen asked, awkwardly shuffling in place.


"Why would you want to do that?"


"I- I don't know... I mean, I have a chick's body, that means I have to be a chick, right?"


Tali just sighed and shook her head. She placed her knuckles on her forehead and tried to figure out how she wanted to say the proper words.


"Kristen, what do you think being a girl is like?"


She paused, putting a finger to her lips as she thought, "Well, liking clothes... Talking about guys... Cooking?"


"You don't have the best understanding of things, do you?" Tali asked with a sigh.


"Like, being a chick. Like Nicole."


"I wouldn't follow her example Kristen."


"Huh? Why not?"


"... Just, don't. She's not as nice of a person as you think."


Kristen awkwardly shuffled in place, rubbing at her metallic shoulder, "Well, what should I do then?"


"Kristen. here's what I say, don't try to be like Nicole or anyone else. You just do what you want to do. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, you should stop talking to them. Ok?"


"Oh- Ahm, ohkay," Kristen said, eyes wide and head tilted to the side in confusion. She started to walk off again, before Tali grabbed her prosthetic, halting Kristen in her path.


"Listen, I know this is tough for you... Having to switch genders and losing limbs... If you ever need help with your body, I can help out, okay Kristen?" Tali asked, looking into her blood-red pupils.


"Y-yes. Dallas said he could take me shopping tomorrow for some better clothes for me... If there's anything I don't know how to wear, I'll ask you," Kristen said with a smile, before wishing Tali a nice rest of the day and carrying on her way. Tali’s eyes just narrowed. There was something else bothering Kristen… But whatever it was, she was too terrified to talk about it. Definitely something she’d have to look into later.


Kristen returned to her room as the sun lingered at the edge of the horizon. She had dodged Joey for almost all of the day... Or at least she thought she did. Considering how he can make himself silent, she knew she would never be able to tell where he is without spotting him.


She flopped back onto her bed, just sitting there and trying to think. Ever since John had gotten her stuck in this body, she hadn't had too much trouble... Beyond learning how to clean herself properly. There was the fact that all that she owned was a v-neck donated to her from Dallas, same with the pants she was borrowing from him. Other than that, she had a few articles of mismatched clothing that the other female students had donated to her at the request of teachers. Mostly undergarments, and brightly colored t-shirts & socks that didn't bode well with her. That, and she couldn't figure out how to wear women's clothing.


She slowly started into change into the loose workout clothes that she called her pajamas. Afterwards she paused to stare at her reflection in the wall-mounted mirror in her room, and had a brief revelation. She hated being stuck like this. She didn't want to be like the other girls at the school... She didn't want dresses, or makeup, or talking about boys. She didn't want to be a girl, but it seemed like she would be stuck like this for the rest of her life...


She closed her eyes, an angry growl emanating from her throat as she strode over to the desk in her room and began to rummage through it. Sure enough, there was a pair of scissors there. She strode back to the mirror and awkwardly held the scissors up to her face...

When Dallas came to collect her, he would find her asleep on the floor, her hair cut a choppy short, with her former long locks laying on the ground around her.

Edited by Landes'Rehn
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  • 2 weeks later...

-02

 

Day 9

 

"So tell me again why you cut off your hair?" Dallas asked, who was doing his best with a bottle of water and a pair of scissors to make Kristen's hair look a little bit more neat. Once he had found her, he quickly woke her up and made sure she hadn't hurt herself, then went about fixing the rough cut she had made to her hair.

 

"I don't want to be a girl," Kristen said, her hands gripping the the arms of the chair she was in.

 

"Why?"

 

"Because... I don't like girly things... Like cooking, fashion, or makeup... I don't really-"

 

"You don't want to be a girl because you don't like a few things, then you cut off your hair..? First thing’s first, I don’t look at this and think feminine. I look at this and think ‘Oh my god, this poor girl is so brave for coming outside like this today. I hope she’s learned her lesson about playing near woodchippers.’ Secondly, who gives a ? That's like saying that if I don't like muscle cars and T-bone steaks then I can't be a guy. And to be fair, some of the best cars I've ever stolen were muscle cars. As if anyone else around here could steal a T-Bird as well as me."

 

Kristen's eyes developed a sudden interest in her feet.

 

"Card, you're not getting this. Being a girl isn't about dresses, flowers and having an a killer nail job. Being a girl is about being you. If you want to be a man-eating lizard again? Feel free to. After all, look at Tali. What a honey badger. If you're into that card, you're into that. Otherwise, don't sweat about it."

 

Kristen said nothing for a moment, closing her eyes as she tried to keep her breathing even she took it all in, "So... What if I want to be me?"

 

"Well, then chin up card. No thanks to my amazing impromptu hair stylist skills… Okay, it, all thanks. But you still look good! Focus on the silver linings.”

 

Kristen opened her eyes. Her hair was still short, she couldn't change that now, but it looked much better now than before. In fact, is she saw a copy of herself walking in the streets, she would say that she had a beautiful face (that is, if she could get away with calling another girl beautiful). She was beautiful.

 

"Then... I want to be me, and me wants to stay looking like this," Kristen said, her voice a quiet whisper in Dallas's room.

 

"Then card, do you want to still go shopping? Otherwise I'd have to return the mustang I stole, and I didn't spend half of the goddamned night searching for and stealing it just for you to say no now."

 

"Yea... Let's go then Dal," Kristen said, a smile breaking onto her face.

 

-

 

"I'm never wearing one of these."

 

"Your choice."

 

The employee just raised a worried eye at kristen, "Ma'am, you'd might want the support."

 

Kristen put the bra she had been holding at arms length back where she found it., "is there something else that gives me... What was it again Dallas?"

 

"Support," he replied, busy taking a picture of himself with his phone.

 

"Yes. Something else that gives me support. Since, that looks like a death trap."

 

Dallas had taken her to someplace called. He had told them that some mutant had swapped my sex about, and we needed clothes to accommodate the switch. Kristen thought she knew the guy in question before at the institute. Regardless, she was being walked through the wondrous world of women's clothing and self-care.

 

"So, is there something else?"

 

"Ahm... The only closest thing we have to an alternative are some tank tops... And plasties."

 

"Plasties?" Kristen asked, her brow furrowing.

 

"They're stickers."

 

"For what?"

 

The employee guestured at the general area, and kristen's face turned red.

 

"Go with the tank tops card, you can wear the v-neck over them. Besides, we have so many v-necks, I think you could wear one a day for a whole year and still have a that you haven't worn yet," Dallas quipped, hefting a bag of v-necks, "You still need pants for yourself. Or leggings, or a skirt or something."

 

Kristen was about to reply with something that probably wasn't as funny as she thought it would be, when a thought struck her.

 

"Wait Dallas, what was that last thing you said?"

 

"Something?"

 

"No... The thing before that."

 

"Skirts...?"

 

"Yes," Kristen said with a nod, "You people do sell skirts, right?"

 

The employee nodded.

 

"Card, remember what I said," Dallas warned, an eye quickly narrowing as he watched Kristen.

 

"Can you please show me where they are?" Kristen asked, remembering her manners for once.

 

Dallas facepalmed as Kristen was led towards a rack containing solely skirts. Kristen remembered his advice as she browsed through the rack, trying to find something longer... Although something that didn't look like she was wearing a dress. She still couldn't even remotely begin to fathom herself in a dress... But a skirt? She thought it was a much more pleasant thought. After several moments of searching, she was able to find a black & grey skirt, plad and pleated, that she liked.

 

"Dallas, watch the shirts. I'm going in," she said as she headed towards the changing rooms.

 

"Don't die!"

 

Kristen slipped into the changing rooms, her face burning red. If she was still a guy, she would've been kicked out of the entire store. It didn't help that the sight of the women's dressing rooms made her feel... Feelings. Much less being inside one. Kristen decided to quickly change and get out. So she did, quickly taking the jeans off and putting the pleated skirt on. Needless to say, it fit. It fit surprisingly well, and felt right to her. Like how v-necks were rightly amazing and awesome. She grinned.

 

Kristen quickly changed back into to jeans and headed back into the store, walking back to the rack of skirts that Dallas was still by. He also was making bored snapchats of all the various employees and other costumers in the mall.

 

"You're not dead," He said astutely, "And you don't look repulsed by that thing you're holding. So does that mean I can have my pants back now?"

 

Kristen pulled a few more skirts off the rack that she liked, "When we get these and take some time for me to change into one of them, yes."

 

-

 

The drive home was largely uneventful, other than the brief lecture that Dallas had given her on what not to do while wearing a skirt. Like climbing ladders. She had ended up buying several knee socks as well, after seeing another teenager in the mall who was wearing some. Dallas then put his nickname of "sticky greenhands" to use and swiped a couple extra dollar bills from people who didn't need them as much to pay for them. As well as the pretzels they picked up from the food court. When they got back, Dallas at least was kind enough to help her carry some of the new clothes up to her room, before he claimed his jeans again, and left to go see someone else.

 

Which left Kristen to her lonesome. It gave her time to rip all the tags free from her shirts and skirts. She particularly liked the one she had on, it was a red, almost Crimson shade and she thought it went well with her dark men's v-neck. She was in the process of pulling on some black knee socks when she saw -not heard, never heard- Joey come into her room.

 

"What the did you do to your hair?" He asked with a frown, "You look like a dyke."

 

"Ah- A what?" Kristen asked, frowning at the new word.

 

"A dyke. A girl who's only into girls." Joey said, his lip curling in disgust

 

"Is that supposed to be bad-?"

 

"You honestly don't know? That's wrong. There's different genders for a reason. It's gross, and everyone hates people like that. If you could even call them people."

 

"Ah- r-really?" She asked, slowly trying to move backwards.

 

"Yes. Anyone who's gay is just a . Even if they say they're just born that way, they just want pleasure," He said, silently closing and locking her door.

 

About an hour later, Kristen lay beneath her covers, sweat covering her as she tried to ignore the pain and disgust she felt. Anything that she tried to stop him from, he just hit her and forced her to do. She had new bruises on her sides, and a few on her lower legs now. She had enough energy left after simply giving up to him to lock the door once he left, allowing her to at least put her shirt back on. After that, she just curled up, wishing her body didn't hurt and didn't feel disgusting.

 

And to think... It was a good day until we got back...

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