Act Your Age, Not Your Shoe Size! (AKA, Kid!Plot is Go!!)

[time_schizo]

Martini threw himself at the door once again, nails scratching along the metal as he scraped his fingers over them. No one would hear him. It was the middle of the night. Stryker had decided to punish him for destroying the camp in Africa, putting him in one beyond all other for him. Solitary confinement. His fingernails had been mostly ripped off

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[forgebyfire]

Waking up in a younger body and not being able to fit into pants and boots was the very least of Forge's problems. He woke up in a fair amount of agony when a metal hand and leg tore from his body, the later falling out of the bed with a clatter as the flesh and blood limb that seemed to sprout in its place pushed it clear through his sweatpants and over the edge.

Forge pushed his face into his pillow and made a spectacular effort toward not screaming, too-small fingers clenching at his sheets with enough force to turn his knuckles white. When it was over he lay there face-down, panting, sweating, just thankful that whatever had just happened had been at least short.

What had happened

[slightproblem]

Olivia had woken up from a nightmare, curling up in on herself as she tried to breathe through her terror. Pushing herself up and out of bed, she threw on her robe and moved outside of her room with care, trying not to wake her roommate. She walked into the bathroom and turned on one of the faucets, half asleep as she pushed her hands beneath the water and then splashed her face.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, however, she almost had a heart attack. She hadn't looked like she did in the mirror since she was a teenager. Her jaw opened and she ran her hand over her cheek, examining herself. She opened her robe and looked down at her body, squeaking. "Oh my God." She was lean, the curves she'd picked up in college gone.

Shutting off the water, she pulled her robe closed and went to the only sane person she knew. Knocking on Forge's door, she bounced as she waited, biting her lower lip. What the hell had happened?

[forgebyfire]

Forge had had his eyes closed. Tightly. For how long he couldn't have said because he had been counting breaths, his mind going too fast to empty out without the slow rhythm. It was like he'd lost his focus, lost the ability of that quick, learned shut down.

It was like he was fifteen again.

The knock opened his eyes and Forge sat up straight, knocking the covers off his face and taking a deep breath of the cooler air. He glanced at Manuel's bed--the man had obviously spent the night with Allison. Better, maybe. He stood up and yanked the drawstring of his sweatpants tighter, tying it anew before padding to the door. This couldn't be just him. And if it was, well. Then any one might be someone who could help. He opened the door, ignoring the way he smacked his hand on the handle that was just a little too high.

At least his right hand and leg had stopped aching.

[slightproblem]

Olivia blinked, looking over the young man who opened the door. She raised an eyebrow, feeling a little anxious as she looked down the hallway. It would probably look a little strange to have a teenage girl standing in front of a door in the guy's dorms.

"Forge?" she asked. He looked like Forge, just a much younger version. "Can I come in?"

[forgebyfire]

Forge knew Olivia on sight; he assumed that she was closer to her natural age then he was. She was lither, a little more boyish than the woman he knew but still unmistakable.

Had he ever actually realized that she was beautiful?

Forge stared at her for a moment before blinking, realized that she'd spoken to him. Clearing his throat he nodded and stepped back, leaving the door and tottering unevenly away as he realized something--and pushed the bloodied metal leg and hand under his bed. "Manuel's not here, don't--"

Gods, his voice. Forge tried clearly his throat again. "Don't worry."

It didn't really help.

[slightproblem]

Olivia fidgeted a little, glancing down the hall again. It was clear that she'd always been high strung and she stepped into the room as soon as he let her.

It was strange seeing him young with short hair, but then, it was strange seeing herself young too. He was cute, but she tamped down that instinct. She glanced around, looking back at Manuel's side of the room, completely missing whatever it was that Forge was doing.

Turning back around, she looked him over again and gave a brief smile. "Um. So. Why are we teenagers?" she asked, her brows furrowing inward before she laughed. "I mean, this is really totally awkward."

[forgebyfire]

"I..."

Totally awkward?

A laugh left his lips before Forge was even aware enough to stop it. He clapped a hand over his mouth and then tried to shift the motion into something more natural, pushing fingers (real fingers!) back to card through his hair. "I don't know." He sat on the edge of his bed and absently rested his hands on his right leg, tapping. "My first guess would be that it's one of the mutants on base. Unless someone's developed some sort of aging machine... I suppose..." No, Bradley probably couldn't. "I don't know," Forge said again, shrugging.

[slightproblem]

Olivia grinned. She'd forgotten that she actually had a sense of humor. Awkward was an understatement! She ran her hand over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose as she giggled.

"Seriously? There's someone who can do that here? That's so weird!" she rubbed her forehead and then reached her own hand back through her long blond hair. "Well. This is super weird." She leaned back against the wall, sighing and folding her arms, a pout on her lips.

[forgebyfire]

Forge shook his head. "I don't know if there's anyone here who could have done this." He stared down at his hand. Opened it. Curled it into a fist. Opened it again. "And if it effected you and me then others have to have changed as well. I'm just thinking that the best way to explain unknown phenomena on a mutant base is... well, mutant."

Teenaged or not, there was a little of the 'too serious' around Forge. It was simply natural disposition.

[slightproblem]

Olivia pushed off of the wall and sat down on the edge of Forge's bed, resting her chin in her hands as she glanced over at him. "It makes sense, but why would it happen? I don't know anyone who can do something like this, but then, I hardly know everyone."

Glancing over at him, she raised an eyebrow at the way he was working his fist. "Is your hand okay?"

[forgebyfire]

Forge's head jerked up. "It--"

It occured to him then for all the meditation training they'd been doing, the defense lessons, for all that Olivia had confided in him about her nightmares and troubles--Forge had yet to return that confidence. His cheeks flushed under his natural tan. "Let's take a walk, Olivia. See if everyone else is okay. I should probably tell you a story."

Standing again, Forge stuffed his feet into his boots and sighed. They weren't too bad but definitely about a half a size too big. He laced them, quick and tight, and headed toward the door.

[slightproblem]

Olivia frowned, noticing the slight flush, and she nodded. If he wanted to tell her a story, she would certainly listen. She had to admit to having a certain amount of curiosity about the man. "I'll meet you at the doors in five. I should go get changed." She gave him a brief smile before she ducked out of his room, heading off for her own.