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“I don’t believe you.”

America Chavez rolled her eyes at the young mutant’s comment. Why did Quentin Quire have to be such an asshole? She was currently sat in the kid’s room, having just explained who she was and what was going on. Well, she didn’t tell him everything. Certainly not everything about her past, but she kept the key points, as well as enough to keep the story somewhat realistic. Yet the little punk still didn’t believe her. To be fair, that was partly her fault. Months ago, after an incident with another telepath, America had taken up some psychic defence classes, thus meaning that Quire can’t read her mind. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, America rose from her seat and glared at the mutant.

“I’m not [i]loco[/i], Quire.” She said, rubbing her temple in frustration. 

Quentin simply laughed in response. “That’s what all the crazies say you bitc..”

Before he could finish, America had darted forward, her hand outstretched. Pushing hard, she shoved the mutant into the wall with such force that the drawers and shelves around the room shook for a brief second, dust floating off the tacky furniture as it did so. 

“Don’t make me hurt you, [i]Chico[/i].” America growled threateningly.

After recovering quickly from the force and pain, Quentin took a second to catch his breath, before glaring into the girl’s eyes. Instead of the look of sheer panic that America had been expecting, a grin flashed across his face.

“Oh will you now? I highly doubt that.” He sneered. “You see [i]Ms. America[/i], unlike most of my pitiful generation, I happen to watch the news. I’m fully aware of what you’re capable of due to that little stunt you pulled yesterday downtown. How many people was it that you nearly killed during that fight, again?”

America tightened her grip angrily at the comment, her brow furrowing. 

“I’m pretty sure I saw S.H.I.E.L.D. take you in after that. Yes, I know who S.H.I.E.L.D. are. I’m a genius after all. Now, I’m pretty sure that they won’t be too keen to hear that you’ve put yet another life in danger, right?”

America paused for a few seconds, before loosening her grip slightly. The kid was right. S.H.I.E.L.D. was still watching her. For all she knew, they could be camped out right outside in a van across the street, watching. She didn’t want to get on their bad side again. She knew full well what they were capable of if motivated. However she needed Quire. He was her last hope.

“Please Quire…” She managed, still trying to maintain her anger. “I need you.”

“Well too fucking bad.”

He was enjoying this. The annoying prick was really enjoying all of this. America could see the sheer joy in his eyes. Now that was the Quentin Quire she knew. He literally gets off of attention and manipulation. He was completely in control here, and he certainly knew it. There was no way she was going to get him to help; he was having too much fun. 

That was when America had an idea. She let go of the teenager, causing him to drop back onto his feet. He appeared confused at the action, with the confusion increasing when America began to step away. 

“That’s too bad then, I guess.” She began, shrugging her shoulders in acceptance. “I guess I’m not surprised. I mean, all the other you’s I met wouldn’t have done a thing either! I guess you’re just as predictable Quentin.” 

With that, she turned on her heel and headed towards the door. 

“Wait!” Quentin called, panic in his voice. “What.. what do you mean? Where are you going now then?”

America smirked slightly, before turning back to the mutant. “I don’t know! Maybe the X-men?”

Then she was gone. America moved back through the house quickly, giving the mutant’s parents a quick wave as she passed through the hall. In seconds she began to cross the lawn. Once she was halfway across however, she began to count.

“3…2…1”

Instantly, the front door burst open behind her. Out stumbled Quentin, with the young mutant rushing to catch up to the hero, pulling on a coat as he did so.

“Wait!” He called, as he raced up behind her. “I’ll do it!” 

So predictable.