The X-Men, Generation X, etc., and all related characters are the 
property of Marvel Comics. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story is the product of my own bizarre mind.

I don't care what Marvel says. Jubilee is fifteen and that's that. So 
there!

I was rather disappointed with Everett's part in the Age of 
Apocalypse: Jubilee mentioned him once. So I wrote this.
__________

To Hell and Back



May 18, 1994

It's very hard not to cry when you're the only one left.

When your parents and neighbors and schoolmates and friends have 
all been murdered and killed before your eyes, pleading for mercy, 
begging for pity and you're the only one out of everybody to survive...

Well, then it's pretty hard.

Even for a totally mature, completely together twelve year old who 
has made a life out of living up to her name.

Jubilation Lee wasn't sure she'd ever stop crying.

She was huddled in a dark, empty corner of the pens, far away from 
the others. The pens were nothing so much as pits dug into the 
ground and covered with thick metal grates. There was nothing to 
protect them from the weather; the rain poured through and turned the 
pens to muddy pits, sometimes the water rising until you couldn't sit 
on the ground for fear of drowning; the sun beat down mercilessly 
making you wish for the rain and water; the chill of the nights 
permeated the ground and the air. The stench was a hundred times 
worse. Comfortablity was a distant memory.

Her fellow penmates were every bit as dismal as the pens themselves. 
Some were like her: taken from their homes and families by the 
cullings, allowed to survive only because the X-factor existed in their 
genes, bereft of hope and joy and the desire to live. Others were 
harsh, angry, hateful. They hated their existence as gene fodder and 
breeding stock and took out their aggressions on the others in the 
pens. You had to avoid them unless you wanted to find yourself 
beaten, raped or killed.

So she'd been told.

Jubilee had been in the pens only a few days. Not long enough to 
have a feel for the place and to understand everything she needed to 
survive, but plenty long enough to attract the attention of far, far too 
many of the other prisoners. A few had had pity on the young girl and 
offered her advice, but for the most part, she was left to her own 
devices.

She was on her own.

She preferred it that way.

She'd been more or less on her own ever since her parents discovered 
she was a mutant. They hadn't turned her out, but they'd forced her to 
keep it secret. And they'd shut her out as much as if they had forced 
her to leave.

And now, three months later, they were dead and she was really 
alone.

She heard footsteps. Three or four people. She didn't move. Odds 
were they'd simply walk past. That had happened several times 
already.

Not this time apparently. The footsteps stopped only a meter or two 
away. Jubilee stifled a moan and raised her head.

Four men stood in front of her, each one wearing the dark and 
haunted look of hate that was far too familiar to her. She didn't move 
a muscle, as if she hoped she could fade into the background and 
escape the hungry gaze the leader aimed at her.

It didn't work.

"Look guys, a newcomer." The leader was a tall man, about thirty, 
with dark hair and eyes. Like everyone, including Jubilee, he was 
covered in dust and mud. He smiled down at her. "We haven't been 
properly introduced, have we? My name is Racer. This here," he 
jerked a thumb over his shoulder at his friends, "are Mercy, Pain and 
Thunder. What's your name, honey?"

Jubilee didn't answer and forced herself to look away. Racer's tone 
was both arrogant and condescending, he spoke to her like she was a 
little girl. Which, technically, she was, but that didn't mean she had to 
appreciate it.

Racer didn't seem to appreciate her silence any more than she had his 
attention. "Hey, kid, don't be like that. We just want to be friends. 
Right guys?"

The one he'd introduced as Mercy was almost as tall as Racer, with 
thick blond hair and pale skin. "That's right. And trust me, girl, you 
need friends in this place."

Racer stepped forward and knelt down before her. He took her chin in 
one hand and forced her to look at him. "What's your name, girl?"

"If I had to guess," came a dry voice from behind him, "I'd say it's 
along the lines of 'Screw off, you twisted pervert.'"

Racer very carefully turned his head. "This ain't none of your 
business, Espinosa. Butt out."

The speaker was a kid a few years older than Jubilee herself, maybe 
fifteen or so. He was a bit on the tall side, with grey skin that sagged; 
like there was too much for it to fit on his body right. His hair was a 
thick brown mop that hung down in his eyes. He took an aggressive 
step further. "Leave the chica alone, Racer. She's scared half to death. 
What good's she gonna do you?"

Racer grinned. "Maybe that's the way I like them."

"You're one sick hombre, ain't ya?"

Racer's face twisted into an angry mask. "Last chance, Espinosa. 
Leave me alone with my little friend."

"Or what?" Espinosa's voice was every bit as hard as Racer's.

"Or else, you find your face permanently embedded in the wall, is 
what." Racer stood and dragged Jubilee up with him. "You think you 
could enjoy that?"

"You think you're up for a real fight, amigo?" Espinosa's voice had 
become decidedly sarcastic. "Or is a fair fight beyond you?"

Racer raised his hand and the other three moved toward Espinosa. 
Jubilee cast him a desperate glance, pleading with him to leave, to not 
get himself killed because of her. Espinosa didn't seem worried 
though. He raised his hand as well, and from the shadows behind him 
stepped eight young men. None older than twenty, Espinosa probably 
the youngest amongst them, they were nonetheless much more 
intimidating a presence than Racer's group. They had the look of 
people who had fought and knew what they were doing. Racer was a 
school yard bully in comparison, despite his greater years.

It didn't hurt that they were each armed with makeshift weapons 
either.

Racer slowly released Jubilee and backed away. "Hey, Espinosa, no 
big deal. You want the girl so bad, you can have her."

Espinosa gave him a disgusted look but said nothing. Racer glared, 
muttered a few vague threats and stalked away, Pain, Mercy and 
Thunder following.

Espinosa approached Jubilee slowly, his friends gathering in behind 
him, most keeping a careful eye on Racer's retreating back. "Chica? 
My name's Angelo Espinosa. You okay? They hurt you?"

Jubilee shook her head. "I'm fine," she whispered.

Angelo reached out slowly and took her hand. "You're freezing is 
what you are. You want to know a secret?" Jubilee said nothing, 
merely looked at him. He leaned a little closer. She didn't flinch away. 
"We've got a stash of blankets we ripped off from the overseers. 
Warmest place in the pens. You want we should share?"

From beyond the young men who'd backed him against Racer came a 
young woman, maybe seventeen. She was Hispanic, same as 
Espinosa. "Another one, Ange? How may of these kids you gonna 
take in? I bet you drove your parents nuts with strays." She ignored 
Angelo's derisive snort and held out a hand to Jubilee. "Hi, sweetie. 
This idiot here is trying to ask you if you feel like joining us for 
dinner tonight. Would you like to try what we pass off as food?"

Jubilee frowned at the girl and turned to Angelo. He seemed to read 
the expression on her face. "Claudia's kidding. It ain't that bad. It's my 
night to cook anyway."

"As I said," Claudia stated.

Angelo snorted again and carefully led Jubilee back in the direction 
he had come from. "Sure, Claud. Scare the kid."

"I don't need to. She'll get a taste of what you call cooking in just a 
few minutes."

Angelo assumed a wounded expression and ignored Claudia. "So 
what's your name, anyway?"

"Jubilee."

"That's a good name," Angelo said approvingly. "Know what? I bet 
once you get to know someone, you're a real firecracker."

Jubilee smiled.
________

To Be Continued