Author's Note: I'll finish out the rest of the new recruits' first parts soon. First I wanted to post this one.

Five: Pencils

Ray snagged a mechanical pencil from the holder on the library table and flipped to a clean page in his notebook. Sam and Bobby were sitting at the other table in the Institute's library, arguing quietly while they played paper football.

He let his gaze flick back and forth, from Sam and Bobby to the lined paper and growing pencil marks. As he worked, shaky images of Sam and Bobby, both caught mid-laugh, emerged on the lined paper.

He'd always had a knack for this, drawing. Callisto had let him draw down in the sewers, saying that his pictures kept high morale. It let him practice for years, leaving him decently capable, especially with the art books other Morlocks had stolen so he could keep creating his comic about a world full of physically mutated mutants and how it was seen as normal and happy.

It was one of the things he'd left behind, when he'd been pulled out of the sewers and put in the Institute. All the pictures, all the supplies. All the late nights curled around half a dozen other mutants, drawing them the way they wanted to be seen. Giving them the whole world through graphite and cheap printer paper. Redoing them when the rain water rose too high and smeared the pencil marks and ink beyond recognition.

Ray sighed and propped his chin in his hand, continuing his drawing. It'd been a while since he'd done this, and he'd never drawn anyone at the Institute before. Well, almost anyone. There were a couple mostly finished sketches of Kurt tucked in the back of his notebook, existing solely because he'd missed drawing the Morlocks and Kurt would have blended right in with them.

Another few pencil marks joined the rest, forming Sam's eyelashes and the lines in his cheeks. Dimples, thought Ray. No one down in the sewers had had dimples. At least, none that he could see.

He kept working, filling out details, adding bangs and clothing lines and shading as he went. It was tricky, getting the shading just right when all he has was a thin-tipped mechanical pencil, but he made it work as best he could. After some time, Sam and Bobby went back to studying – largely because Ms. Munroe had come in and told them to work or else they wouldn't get dessert – and Ray finished his drawing.

Ray frowned at the picture. It looked fine, but it captured something else he hadn't expected.

Loneliness.

Maybe looking at the picture, you wouldn't know, but Ray knew. The picture marked yet another time he'd been isolated from the others. It was a bigger problem every day. People kept avoiding him, whether because of his anger or his powers or something else, Ray didn't know.

Maybe he smelled. He hated showering. But he still did and he made sure to wear deodorant and wear clean clothes every day. He didn't even wear socks, so that couldn't be the problem either.

God, he just didn't know.

The door to the library opened and Ray looked up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam and Bobby look up as well. Kurt came into the room. He waved at Sam and Bobby, who waved back before returning to studying what Ray thought was probably their science homework. They'd been talking about balancing equations earlier.

Ray had no idea how to do that. He was glad he wasn't in the class.

"Hey, Ray?" Kurt's accented voice floated next to his ear and Ray glanced up, seeing him. Kurt smiled. "Can I sit?" he asked, pointing to one of the chairs. Ray nodded and Kurt sat down next to him. "You're very good."

Ray blinked and followed Kurt's gaze to the doodle on his notebook paper. He flushed and flipped it over, stuffing it into one of his notebook pages. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Kurt bumped his shoulder and smiled at him. It occurred to Ray that Kurt wasn't wearing his image inducer. He couldn't help but feel a bit flattered. Kurt almost always wore it around the newer students. If only because a couple of them still kind of freaked out if he caught them off guard with it. Ray thought it was stupid, he thought Kurt looked awesome.

"Do you draw often?" asked Kurt. His tail swished between his shoulders, perking up and then down again as he spoke.

Ray nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, he flipped open to one of his mostly-finished pictures of Kurt, turning the notebook so that Kurt could look at it. Kurt broke into a wide smile and carefully nudged the notebook closer with his tail. His golden eyes sparkled, his fangs showing as his smile transformed into a grin.

"That's me," said Kurt, the awe clear in his voice. He looked up at Ray. "Like, like this!" He stared back down at the picture, tracing the edges with one of his fingers.

Ray was proud of that picture. It was Kurt, dangling upside down from the stairs, attempting to mock-steal Scott's glasses. He hadn't finished Scott, who was a wireframe with a face, but he'd finished Kurt for the most part.

"'Course," said Ray. "Why wouldn't I?"

Kurt's grin transformed into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling around the edges. He cocked his head to Ray. "Would you draw something? Or…" He trailed off and shook his head. "I'm sorry, that's rude."

"No," said Ray. "I…" He trailed off, took his notebook back, and flipped to a new page. Pencil hit paper and he started sketching out something he'd seen earlier – Rahne, in wolf form and in mid-air, leaping to catch a Frisbee. Ray leaned over the paper, brow furrowed, and felt more than saw Kurt settle in to watch.

Neither one spoke as Ray drew, but Ray didn't mind.

He was just glad for the company.