Hello, all! This is my first X-Men fanfiction, and, if all goes well, the first story I will ever finish on here! I will certainly try, anyway...

This is a Hank McCoy (Beast)/OC story taking place during (and probably a bit after) the movie X-Men: First Class. My OC is one that I've had an idea for for literally years, and I promise that even though she has multiple powers I will keep from from being Mary-Sue! I think the muse would kill me if I let her come across that way... *shivers* Anyway, I'm going to try to keep this story rated T, though if anyone at any point thinks the rating should be changed to M and can prove it to me logically, I will change it. So far, this story will be rated T for fairly graphic violence, some swearing, and scenes of a romantic nature later (though probably not M-rated ones!).

I ask that you leave me a review once you reach the end of this chapter (or at the end of whichever chapter is the last, once more show up!) as it encourages me to get more material up at a faster rate. Thanks!

Now, on to the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or any of the characters therein! I do, however, own my OC.

Prologue

Age 16 – Regeneration

"My God... this has got to be the worst thing I've ever seen, and I've seen some bad stuff in my time, lemme tell ya."

"No kidding... I'm surprised we even found pieces of 'em."

Pieces of what? Catrin wondered, What are those men talking about? And why was she suddenly aware, after having been in the dark for an indefinite amount of time? And why did everything hurt?

Sirens. Lights flashing on the other side of her closed eyelids. What was going on? Had something bad happened? The last thing she'd known, she and her family – her parents and older brother – had been driving on the highway, headed for her aunt and uncle's house for a family party. They'd gone around a curve, and- oh. This pain was simply too distracting; it felt like her skin was slowly being peeled off, but somehow she couldn't gather the strength to scream.

"Wait... what the hell?"

"Holy shit... no way that's happening..."

The men sounded scared. What were they looking at?

"It hurts," she managed, the sound of her voice surprising her: it sounded more like someone who'd had their throat cut than like a normal person. "Help... help me..." Her leg twitched suddenly, and Catrin grunted in pain. There was a loud, disgusting crunching sound at exactly the same time as her leg twitch, and both men yelled in shock.

"Oh, my God... oh, my God!" one of them moaned. The other was saying some of the foulest words Catrin had ever heard in her life. Finally, she managed to open her eyes: she had to see what was the matter. Desperate to know what was scaring them so badly, she pushed herself into a sitting position, ignoring the wracking pain for the moment. Both men, whom she now realized where firemen, by their clothes, shrieked; their terrified faces were the first things she saw.

"What are you?" one of them, the one who had been swearing, whimpered – whimpered! – at her, "What the fuck are you?" The other one was crossing himself over and over and over...

"What?" Catrin gasped, her voice sounding a little more like her normal one, "What did I do?" The only answer she got was the foul-mouthed one pointing a shaking finger at her body. Finally, for the first time, Catrin glanced down. She really, really wished she hadn't... ever.

Blood covered her, for one thing. Completely covered her: not one inch of clothing or skin was uncovered. To add to this, there were still bones sticking out of her left leg, the one that hadn't twitched: both lower leg bones, white, glistening through the blood. Most of the skin on her arms was burned off, too, exposing way more muscle and bone than Catrin had ever wanted to see. Without thinking, she reached up to her throat, and found a huge shard of what she guessed to be metal sticking out of the side of it. Again without thinking, she tugged it out: the pain blasted through her, but only for an instant; within seconds, she felt new skin covering the gaping hole under her fingers. She gasped in horror, looking down at herself again just in time for her left leg to twitch and reset itself, the bones grafting together before her eyes, the skin closing over them...

"What... what..."

The skin on her arms was growing back, too...

"What is this..."

She had the sudden, unshakable urge to tilt her head to one side, and when she did her neck let out a resounding crack, filled with undertones of grating and clicking. She realized she'd just felt her broken neck mend itself.

"W-what's happening to me?"

The men were unable to answer her questions; they seemed beyond all speech or even thought. Catrin turned, numbly intending to look for someone else to ask, only to see... her family... their bodies in much the same condition hers had been in moments before... only with no sign of them ever being anything but the empty, burned husks they now were. Another glance showed their car, burned and bashed beyond anything Catrin had ever seen before. One last look, this time down at herself to see her now-perfectly-healed body, was all Catrin had time for before a scream finally ripped through her. After that, she returned to the darkness.

Age 17 – Fire

"Get her!"

Running. It was all running, now. It seemed like ever since last year – this exact date last year, no less – people had either been chasing after Catrin or running from her. Her own aunt and uncle had, for instance. Her grandparents, too: both sets. She'd been forced to live on the streets since the day of the accident, the day her body had suddenly decided to gain an ability that had saved her. But not her family. Oh, no... they were a year dead, and she was the same as ever; better, even... this healing ability of hers made sure of that.

"C'mon, nab the bitch!"

"Can't, she's too damn fast..."

"Just grab her! She can't fight you once she's down!"

Catrin picked up her pace, knowing what the three men chasing her wanted: she'd grown a lot in the past year, and her healing had also given her features an almost terrifying perfection that many men lusted after. These men were no different than others she'd had to fight off before... these were just more persistent. And fast, she was losing ground at a remarkable rate.

"Got'cha, mutant!"

One of the men grabbed her and slammed her to the ground, making Catrin cry out in pain and fear. None of them had ever caught her before... but the use of the term "mutant" was nothing new; one of the first men had come up with it, and somehow they all knew of the term.

Some weird rapist club? She found herself wondering, even as she struggled against the man's grasp. She couldn't shake him off, and his friends were laughing, egging him on. Suddenly, Catrin wasn't just in pain and scared: she was furious. What right did they have to do this to her? What right?

"Get off me, you ass!" The words left her mouth in a sharp scream of fury; the last word was accompanied by unconscious thrust forward of her hands, which had managed to get between her torso and the man's. The man flew, literally flew backwards off of her, and hit the alley wall with a resounding smack. The other two men yelled in shock, and Catrin stared in horror at the singed hole in the front of the man's shirt... and chest... In fact, the term "hole" was the only one that applied now, for there was a gigantic one right through the man's chest. He crumpled to the ground, his shock and horror still etched on his dead face. Catrin screamed for real, then, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hands. She swiftly realized this wasn't the best idea, however, for red-hot flames still licked around her fingers and palms...

"Let's get out of here!"

The two other men took off, leaving their dead comrade and Catrin in the alley, the latter still staring at her flaming hands, the former still smoking...

Age 18 – Water

It was a calm change, this time, and it came at a time of weakness. She was in the shower at the homeless shelter, curled up on the floor in a ball as she cried. It was two years to the day since the accident, one year to the day since the fire abilities had started. She was looking more different than ever, since that day: her dark brown hair had fallen out, as though burned off, and then grown back in red. Bright red. The color of flames...

Catrin sniffed, wiping at her eyes. She knew they'd be in soon to kick her out of the shower; it would be someone else's turn, soon, and she would have to leave the shelter in order to avoid anyone finding out about her abilities... or recognizing her. She stood up stiffly, her body aching from the hard floor; she saw a few bruises on her thighs and shins, but within seconds they had vanished, healed. She swiped at her eyes again, silently cursing the healing: she would've died with her family, if it hadn't been for this damn ability. And she wouldn't be a murderer, if it weren't for the fire.

I wish... I wish I could die, she thought, resting her forehead against the side of the shower, But... I don't even know if I can, now...

Suddenly, the steam of the shower... changed. There was no other word for it. It had been swirling, but now it was swirling around her. In concentric circles. Catrin raised her head, her eyebrows climbing her forehead, and the steam climbed, too, rising to the ceiling before spiraling back down to the ground, something steam should never have been able to do. Catrin's mouth fell open as she realized what might, just might be going on, and she raised her hands, cupping them around the shower head.

"Cold," she murmured, "I want this water to be cold..." Instantly, the water blasting down on her was so cold it was making her teeth chatter. "Okay, h-hot," she gasped, and the water returned to its previous temperature. Catrin laughed, actually laughed, for the first time in two years...

Age 19 – Air

I'm sick of all this traveling...

Catrin examined herself in yet another cracked bathroom mirror in yet another run-down restaurant, watching her now-bright-green eyes stare back at her. They'd changed after the water thing had started, though why green and not blue Catrin wasn't sure. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, though. What would it matter?

Damn eyes... damn hair... damn powers... curses, more like!

She bashed her head against the mirror, feeling the thing break and sharp edges piercing her forehead. She hissed in pain and pulled back, only to see the nasty cuts heal in the broken mirror shards still before her. She hissed again, but this time in irritation: couldn't she just, for once, have an injury that stayed? There were a few scars left – the old ones from childhood – but no new ones since the day of the accident.

Too bad... I might've enjoyed getting ones other than the ones on my heart...

Another person entered the bathroom, and Catrin jumped, instantly stepping away from the mirror and edging out of the room. The other woman looked at her curiously, but Catrin was out of the room before she could be asked if she was alright. Leaving the restaurant, Catrin headed down the road, clutching her thin shirt to her against the driving, cold wind. She knew that if she let the fire within her out, she'd be warm enough, but then people would stare at her more than ever: a girl on fire caught attention.

Ugh... back to the shelter, I guess...

But then, the wind stopped. Literally, stopped. Catrin looked up... and realized that this was a local phenomenon: it was like she was in the eye of a hurricane; wind all around her, but not touching her. A slow, hesitant smirk spread over her face as she held out her hand, feeling the air swirl around her much as the water had the first time she'd been able to control it.

Alriiiiiight... finally something immediately useful...

Age 20 – Earth

She was walking across the water. Well, sort of. More like freezing it in front of herself, then melting it once she was past. It was slippery going, for ice was still hard for her to walk on, curses or not. Catrin had long decided to refer to the abilities she possessed as "curses"; there was no other word for them, as far as she was concerned: what else could you call the things that had killed someone and not saved her own family, that had caused her so much pain without letting her die?

She wasn't even sure where she was going, or what she was even doing in Florida, walking on the water; it just felt... right, somehow, to be here, now. She was wondering so much about this that she didn't even notice when the footing was suddenly much less slippery. It was only when she tripped on a small rock that she looked down, to still see water all around... except right around her feet. Wet earth was there, in a little spit that wasn't linked to anything. It was simply... floating on the water... or no, it was supporting itself, somehow, as though from underneath, as though it was solid land.

Oh, yeah... four damn years to the day... new curse, I'll bet.

Sure enough, as she concentrated, she found that she had been unconsciously drawing earth from underneath the water for herself to walk on. She managed a halfhearted smile; at least now she wasn't in danger of slipping.

She was smiling right up until the point that all hell broke loose...

There... is this fun so far? Leave a review letting me know! Thanks!