TITLE: I Get By

SUMMARY: After being rescued by an unlikely classmate, things get complicated.

RATING: K+

WARNINGS: Language.

DISCLAIMER: I, LithiumAddict, a.k.a. Percy O'Leary, am not in any way shape or form connected to Marvel Comics, Fox Entertainment, or any other related group. I therefore do not own any of the characters represented here. This is fan-fiction, and a labour of love on my part and in no way an intention to undermine the previously mentioned organizations or their intellectual property.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's been a really frigging long time since this story was updated. Hard to believe, honestly, and there are so many things I could blame, but that's both immaterial and a major cop-out. I would like to thank all of you who are still hanging in there, and those of you who have been so kind with your reviews despite the amount of time that's passed. It's funny how people are still finding and enjoying this story, and there aren't words for how appreciative I am of that. Welcome back to all of you, and hello to you new folk. Hope this lives up to your expectations.

It was pandemonium.

Guns began firing, screams rang out, and the five teenagers with probably the most to fear from the situation all hit the deck out of well-drilled instinct.

Marie's face hardened as she thought, forearms scraped harshly by the pavement beneath her. The feeling was distant – a noted fact rather than something she was actually feeling.

They were far too close to the action. Staying where they were was not an option. Where could they get that was safe? She looked towards the parking lot first.

No. That was no good. There was no way they could make it to their vehicles through the crazed mob around them in time or without too great a risk of getting shot.

"The mall," Jean-Paul supplied. "We could get inside the mall."

Jeanne-Marie looked at her brother in amazement.

"You're nuts."

"No," Remy said. "No, he's right. There's places there we can hide and think. Stores, janitors' closets, back halls, back rooms."

Jeanne-Marie still didn't seem completely convinced. Marie saw the sense of this though, and the question then became one of logistics.

"We've got three flyers here. If we do this right, we can glide right to the mall under the line of fire. How low can you guys fly?"

As she spoke, she realized she'd suddenly taken on the role of leader, or at least something like it. It seemed awkward and inappropriate, but like her forearms, it was a distant knowledge. There would be time to mull this over later. Right now, she had to make sure there would be a later.

"About a foot, if I'm careful," Sam answered. The twins murmured that it was about the same for them, though it was Jean-Marie who caught her line of thought and responded.

"If we've gotta carry you two though, I don't know. Probably more – two feet? Three?"

This left Marie wavering. That sort of height seemed a bit high for her liking what with the gun-wielding maniacs around. In that moment she felt as though she were outside herself, an observer watching Marie think, speak, and work. Someone looking on a woman stepping up and being surprised at what they were seeing. Marie wondered just how she was capable of any of this. Was it the time she'd spent watching Danger Room sessions? Was it the combined expertise of everyone she'd ever absorbed coming together when she needed it most? The whole thing was beginning to scare her – the situation, the part she was apparently playing in it, and the fact that everything about everything here felt wrong.

Focus, Marie, she reprimanded herself. No time. Think. Think. What now?

Everyone looked towards her in expectation. She pursed her lips before making a decision.

"As long as we don't get over two and a half feet, we should be safe. Safe enough, anyhow."

"I get why going to the mall is smart, but someone mind reminding me why flying to the cars and getting the hell out of dodge has been ruled out?" Sam asked, and Marie was back and present in her body. Remy answered the concern.

"We'd be flying right at the gunfire. And even if we make it t'the cars, they'll see us for sure and know we're mutants. They'd follow us. If we go to the mall at least we got a -"

"We don't have time to argue," Marie said, sounding more capable than she felt. The wheels in her head were screaming as they turned at an alarming pace. Psyches and Danger Room profiles flew through her head. The plan came together as it fell from her mouth. "Jean-Paul, grab Remy. Jean-Marie, take me. Sam, you fly last. If we're lucky, you might be able to keep us covered with that force field of yours."

Everyone blinked a moment, the second frozen in the midst of the gunfire. The rest of the group had seemed to see that shift in Marie, and the expressions on their faces in that moment were unsettling. It passed quickly though. Like it or not, even intentionally or not, Xavier's had been shaping them into a unique breed of soldier. They knew how to spring to action when it was time, and they knew when to follow direct orders from a commander. How Marie had become that commander didn't matter. Her instructions, on the other hand, did.

Jean-Marie and Jean-Paul grabbed their passengers and took off low and fast. Sam followed, and Marie barely had time to react before they were right in front of the mall. She crossed her arms over her face to protect it as Jean-Marie slammed through the glass of the door. They came to a skidding, tumbling landing a little ways inside, resulting in Marie crashing into a garbage can. The protection of adrenaline kept the pain at bay. That would keep until they were safe, at which point it would hit full force. That was later though. Right now was more important. The three boys were close behind, all coming to similarly awkward landings due to how low they'd been flying. They all rose carefully, looking outside the damaged door and wondering if they'd been seen.

Marie moved warily towards the door and scanned the outside. It was hard to pick out anything distinct – just chaos - but then she saw something moving in their direction. Person shaped and glittering, bullets glanced off it as it got closer to the door.

Sam, who had followed Marie to the door, was the one to recognize her.

"It's Emma!"

He crouched by the broken window, poking his head out and waving towards Emma as she came sprinting towards them.

"Get inside!" Sam yelled. She dove towards the window, and Sam caught her as she came through, swinging her to the side and to the closest thing they had to safety. So that potential for a 'diamond form' that Emma's Danger Room profile had mentioned was more than just potential, Marie noted. She tallied that up in their assets column as the girl shifted back to flesh and blood.

Marie braced her back against the wall right next to the door as she tried to focus again. What was their next move? Emma was bobbing her head towards Sam in thanks, about to say something when Remy spoke up.

"That door won't stop 'em," he said, yanking Marie down and away from the door. Everyone else followed his lead, getting as close to the ground as they could. "And it sure as hell ain't gonna stop bullets. Emma's entrance there'll have attracted attention."

"We need to move," Marie agreed. "On foot though. No need to make it any more obvious we're mutants. On three, we make a break for it."

They did.

The sound of gunfire had not gone unnoticed by those inside the mall. It was emptying fast, people running for exits in panic. The current of people was moving towards the back exit, as far away from the insanity out front as possible. Marie tried to recall the layout of the mall, wondering if maybe they should follow the crowd out that way. There was nothing there though, just a truck entrance and a road lined with a high concrete wall that looped back around to the front of the mall – exactly where they didn't want to be.

Three flyers, three foot-bound people. Maybe they could fly up and over the wall . . .

No. That would mean getting high enough to be seen, and risked too much attention. The mall. They needed to stay in the mall until they figured something out.

"What are we looking for?" Jean-Marie asked, pulling her from these thoughts. It was eerie how easily and quickly the answers were coming.

"The nearest store with one of those metal doors you can pull down."

xXx

It happened to be a jewelry store.

With everyone in, Sam and Remy – the tallest of them – reached up and grabbed the large metal panel that served as a door and dragged it down along its runners to the ground. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, the group seemed to give a collective exhale. They all collapsed to sitting positions, and Marie watched them collect and steady themselves.

Remy was sitting with his back against the door. He knocked on it, seeming to test the material.

"If they come inside the mall, this won't stop them either. Y'all know that, right?"

"It's at least bought us some time," Emma said. "Right now, I'll take that."

They took a minute to try and calm themselves. How well that was working out was unclear.

"You went diamond," Marie finally said. "They pulled out the guns and you went diamond."

Emma's response was scorn mixed with a healthy dose of fear.
"I couldn't help it! They pulled out guns, and it just happened. I was scared."

"It's not blame, Emma. I'm just trying to figure this all out right now."

Taking a quick glance at his watch, Remy frowned.

"Cops are on the way; the ones outside at the protest would have called for backup by now. They're probably going to bring in S.W.A.T. too, thanks t'the fucking armory Purity brought along," he spat. Jean-Paul's face was contorted with thought.

"That'll still take some time though, won't it? How fast can S.W.A.T. actually respond?"

"The cops'll be here fast. S.W.A.T.'s gonna be twenty to forty minutes," Remy replied absently, "I'd lean closer to forty, since we're a little out of the way and they'll be coming from New York proper." Everyone seemed a little surprised, but no-one asked exactly how he would know this sort of thing. Now, as with a good deal of other things, was obviously not the time. "The cop presence will keep the Purity asswipses from dispersing. With S.W.A.T. coming too, no way they're getting out of here clean either. But there's no way in hell they're just gonna stand there and wait."

"They're gonna need a fortress," Sam said quietly, and from the looks on the others' faces, Marie knew that all of them understood exactly what he meant. The Purity bastards were going to take the mall. Jeanne-Marie looked especially grave.

"What do we do then?"

"We've got to call the Mansion," Jean-Paul said. "We've got to get someone – anyone – out here."

Emma's frown marked her disapproval.

"We're NOT calling in the third string."

"Third string?"

All eyes snapped towards Emma, who explained herself in a staccato fire of words.

"The All-Stars are out fetching the not-quite-as-dead-as-assumed Mister Summers and are thusly off the grid right now. The third line would be Jubilee, Blink and the rest of them, and to be frank? I don't think it would be especially safe for them to come here even if we did call them. I don't think any of us feel like putting them in what's possibly a more dangerous situation than the one we're in. The X-Men are the ones with the Kevlar and the training for this sort of crap. Unfortunately, they're not available and we don't have the luxury of time. We've officially been relegated to penalty killer status, and we have to step the hell up."

The news about Mister Summers was new to Marie, not to mention especially welcome, but as with most things right now it had to be put aside. Later.

"Do I even want to know what's up with this sports analogy?" Jean-Paul asked, leaning his head back against the wall of their hiding place. This act did not appear to amuse Emma, whose eyes narrowed to laser focus on him.

"You think this is funny?"

"Would you two cut it out?" Sam interrupted. "Penalty killers don't play the game. They hold out until the first line gets back. We're not going to be able to do this alone. We'll need help."

"Seeing as the first line is a little occupied right now, do you have any recommendations?"

Jeanne-Marie rolled her eyes. "If you two would stop using that stupid hockey metaphor thing, that'd be great."

"Everyone be quiet," Marie said, voice sharpening. God, none of it felt right at all coming from her, and yet there it was. Wolverine's psyche radiated a sort of pride regardless. You're doing fine, kid. Keep it up. She tried to draw strength from this as she began to lay things out. "What we know is this – Purity is outside, and we don't know for how long. We can't stay in here once they're in. Everyone just bolted and wouldn't have bothered to close up the stores, which means this door is going to give us away, 'cause it's going to be the only closed one. Any help we can call right now wouldn't be any help, or won't get here in time. For now, it's just us."

"So that's the situation. What's the objective?" Sam asked, falling back on the language of the Danger Room and X-Men training. Marie wanted to answer that it was to get out of there without getting noticed, but that possibility was feeling more and more remote.

"Everyone in the mall and outside's gotta be long gone now. I don't think we're gonna get out of here without these guys finding us, and even if we do, they're at least going to catch us getting to the cars."

Jean-Paul frowned.

"So why not just make a run for it once we get out? We don't have to fly, so they won't know we're mutants."

"They're firing on civilians," Jeanne-Marie pointed out. "It wouldn't matter what they think we are."

Emma had nodded at Jeanne-Marie's statement.

"The question still stands though. What's the objective?"

The group took a collective breath. The answer was there, they all knew it. It was simply a matter of someone articulating it.

"Stop them," Marie said simply, and that breath was released. "We can at least try and fend them off long enough to get in touch with the roster X-Men and get them out here. It's like Sam said: we've got to hold on until the cavalry arrives."

Emma looked as though she were willing to concede to this (for which Marie was thankful), and went on to speak pointedly.

"Sam was also right when he said we won't be able to do this alone. We're not enough, and like I said, calling the Mansion for help isn't going to be a good idea. How do we hold the fort long enough for the X-Men to get here?"

Remy, who had been curiously silent until now, muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse. It certainly wasn't in English, and since twins' eyebrows took hikes for their foreheads at his words, Marie figured that her guess was right.

"You got an idea, Remy?"

"I think."

"What is it?"

"Anyone got a cell on them?" Remy asked, sounding exhausted. It was Emma who dug into the small purse she'd actually managed to keep hold of throughout the debacle so far. A small white phone was produced, and she passed it over to Remy. He dialed a number, and the rest of the group could only sit silent and listen as he made his call.

"Henri, it's Remy. I need some help."

The name Henri brought Marie back to a night (it felt like forever ago) that she'd sat in Remy's room and he'd indicated his brother, Henri, in a photograph. Why on earth he'd be calling his brother now was beyond her. She'd assumed all his family was back in New Orleans. What could Henri do for them from there?

"I'm at the mall just outside Westchester. Remember those Purity chicks?"

A pause as he listened.

"They decided to take over the place, and brought some well-armed friends. Me and mine are stuck inside and could use some help." Remy closed his eyes and looked nearly meditative for a moment. He continued, inflection changed. It was cool and professional as he went on. "Southeast entrance is covered hard and heavy. Smart money says if they're not in and sweepin' the place now, they're gonna be right quick. Some of them look like they know what they're doing; maybe basic military training. Hard to say. They'll be moving ground floor up. Definitely closin' and covering all exits as they go – they're taking and defending a castle."

Remy nodded.

"Yeah. The skylights in the Southwest corner are prob'ly your best entry point. Clock's tickin'."

He listened for another moment, and nodded decisively.

"We'll meet you there. I'm gonna owe you huge for this."

Remy close the cell phone, and tossed it back to Emma. While everyone was somewhat confused, Jean-Marie was the only one who moved straight through to suspicion.

"What was that?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, and Marie could tell he was feigning lightheartedness. "I just roped us some All Stars."

Pragmatics. Tactics. Marie forced herself to think, and all she could come up with were questions.

"How is that going to work? If we can't get out with attracting attention, how are your All-Stars gonna get in? Especially from the skylights?"

While the question of just what Remy had done remained unspoken, Marie found herself looking at him a little differently. It felt as though a layer had been peeled away from him, and she had just glimpsed something closer to the core of who he was than anything she'd previously seen. What that something was, she couldn't quite place.

Remy's smile was touched by melancholy.

"You ain't met these All-Stars," he answered dryly.

The room was quiet. Marie hoped to hell that Remy's All-Stars were as good as he seemed to think.