Out with the old, in with the new.

[Boulder]

This event happens directly after "Breaking the Boulder"

The ground outside of the Johnson home trembled violently in the after midnight hour. Waking from her fitful, coughing slumber, an elderly Mrs. Johnson got out of bed.

"What was that I wonder...? And where *cough* is that boy at?"

Grabbing her cane and an old pistol she kept on top of her nightstand, she left her room and headed over to the back door where she heard what sounded like rocks rolling around, falling, and bumping against each other.

She stepped out onto the back porch, supporting herself on her cane and waving her gun around menacingly.

"Who's out there?!?" *hack**cough* "I may be an old lady, but I'll be more *cough* than you bargained for if you don't show yourself!! And you better not be none of them stinkin' muties I've been seein' on the news either..." She mumbled the last part to herself.

The noise of rocks grating drew her aged gaze towards a pile on the ground she knew wasn't there the night before. There was a full moon out, making the night bright all around her, but there was a wisp of cloud cover masking the area around the mound.

Carefully, she took the two steps down to the grass and, waving her gun around, walked over towards the mound. About two feet away from it, the clouds passed, and she saw Boulder laying halfway in and halfway out of the ground, covered in dirt, clay, and fragments of rock.

"WILLIAM!!!" She dropped her gun and fell to her knees, cradling her grown grandson's head in her arms. She was caught up in a short coughing fit as she tried to get her breath back.

"Who done this to you Willy...? I bet it was muties...." She picked up her gun again and waved it around menacingly. "You'll not hurt us again! I know how to use this!" she shouted at the darkness.

She gently rubbed the dust and clay off his face, periodically coughing as some dust rose into her nose and mouth. She flicked at a chunk of rock on his cheek. When it didn't fall off, she pushed it, and poked it harder. When she poked it, she saw William's face move. Then she noticed more like it on the top of his head, his shoulder, chest, and legs. They were not just stuck, but grown into his skin....or maybe growing out of his skin...?

She dropped his head as she scooted away from her grandson. "No....no....he's....he's a....*cough cough hack*" She grabbed her cane and hauled herself back to the house, clutching her heart as pain wracked her body. "He can't be....not my grandson..." She raced as fast as an old lady could go back to her room. Her heart pounding, face contorted in pain. She rounded the door to her room and saw her pills sitting next to a glass of water she kept there in case she woke up with heart pain.

She snatched up the bottle and doubled over in pain. Dropping the cane, she fumbled with the lid, trying desperately to get it off. With a cry of anguish, she popped the lid off and fell over onto her bed, dropping the bottle next to it, scattering pills all over the floor. Clutching the sheets, she twisted desperately as breath failed to fill her lungs, tangling herself up in the sheets. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, the life flickering out of her aged eyes, her face still masked in pain. The pain of her heart failing. The pain of knowing that her grandson, her flesh and blood, was a mutant.

[Boulder]

Boulder woke up in the early morning. A light dew had fallen and he was wet. When he opened his eyes, it was still dark, and there was open sky over him.

"Wha..? What happened?" Last thing I remember was passing out while trying to get.....GRANDMA!!!!

Boulder snapped awake and tried to sit up only to find he was half buried in the ground. He wiggled his legs to try and free them, and when it became apparent that it would take a few minutes to dislodge himself, Boulder used his power to lift the ground under and around him and pulled the rocks pinning him down off. He stood and looked around, trying to get his bearings.

The events of the night flooded back into his mind. Why do I not hurt...? I'm pretty sure I broke some bones, bruised some ribs, and had tons of wounds...

Boulder felt his leg where Vipul had stabbed him. The scissors were gone, but there was a hard lump. Feeling it through the hole in his pants, Boulder realized it was a rock. It covered where the wound ought to be, and when he picked at it, he could feel it moving inside of him. Quickly, he felt his arm where Untouchable's dagger had sunk in to the bone, his face and head, where he was scraped up by the saw and various other projectiles, his body and as much of his back as he could where the glass had shattered onto him. Everywhere he flet, there were rocks. Rocks in patches, small shards, lines, all covering where he was wounded, and all in his body, like they had grown into him, or out of him...

His head still spinning from what he was finding on himself, it finally registered where he was. "I'm....home....grams..." he breathed.

Boulder rushed up the stairs in a single bound and grabbed the door handle. He stopped and went in quietly. I can't let her see me like this. I know how much she does not like mutants...that's why I never told her...but I've got to make sure she's ok...

Boulder quietly crept into the home. He slowly made his way to his grandmother's room. He peeked around the corner of her doorway, looking for her to be sleeping in bed. When he saw the bed empty and the sheets off to one side, he burst into the room to check on her.

"Grams!!" Boulder took in the scene quickly and rushed to his grandomother's side and tried to untangle her from the sheets. Her body hung limp and lifeless as he tried to free her. Her flesh was already cool to the touch. I was too late.... Tears streamed down Boulder's face and sorrow quickly turned to rage. "If it weren't for those damned mutants...those....HEROES...." he packed as much scorn into his voice as he possible could as he shouted the last word. "If not for all those HEROES....the cops...the costumed freaks...the random people always in my way.....if not for THEM...I might have been able to DO something...save up the money....BRING BACK THE DAMN CURE!!!!!"

Boulder finally was at a loss for words, his heart bursting open. The only person he ever knew that ever cared for him was gone. And it was all the fault of heroes....

Boulder's cry of anguish was accentuated as the foundation of the home shook. Car alarms went off, lights rattled, and dogs started barking. Timbers cracked and the walls shook and shattered as Boulder grieved. Lights in the neighborhood came on as people woke up before thier planned times to try and figgure out what was going on.

The home crumbled and fell apart as it slowly sunk into the ground. The roof finally came to rest level with the ground as the shaking and rumbling stopped. Neighbors started calling 9-1-1 to report a sinkhole, went out to turn off car alarms, and quiet their pets. Several minutes passed before another small rumble started. A bulge formed in the back yard behind what was left of the home, and rocks started pouring out like ants racing from an anthill. Boulder's head poked out, followed by his shoulders, torso, and after a few seconds, he was standing on top of a mound of rocks and dirt.

Tear stains streaked his face, cutting through the dust on his cheeks as he looked back to his old home one last time before he darted off into the fading darkness, sirens in the distance growing louder.

Never again....never again will anyone who fancies themself a 'hero' get in the way of people like me....not as long as I'm around to stop them.