For those following The Second Generation Begins:
This story takes place 2yrs after TSGB starts and contains a lot of major spoilers about Devon.
HOWEVER, while the backstory used in the story is spoiler-filled canon, the story itself is NOT canon.
IN THE KITCHEN
"Devon. Wake up." After a brief shaking of his shoulder, Devon awoke to a gentle voice. He rolled over and blinked; still a little hazy as he looked up. Once he registered that he was staring at the headmistress Katherine LeBeau, he bolted upright on his little cot.
"So you've all come to a decision then?" he asked. She nodded back at him and knelt down to take off his shackles. Devon rotated his wrists a few times before transforming to look exactly like his former captor. Katherine stared at herself for a second before she looked upon the faces of Devon's fellow Brotherhood converts Nyssa and Zeke, and then a somber looking Willow sat in front of her. Finally, Devon returned to his own form.
Katherine chucked. "Feels good to be able to use your powers again, doesn't it?" Devon nodded as he struggled to keep his smile in check. Motioning for him to follow her, Katherine walked out of the cell.
He crept behind, wondering where she was taking him. They decided to trust me after all, right? he thought. That's why they let me have my powers back. He studied every step the headmistress took; every shift of her weight. Then why am I still so nervous? Isn't the worst over now?
Katherine led him back into the main living area of the school; two floors above the cell he just spent the past twenty-four hours in. He stepped into the Colonial mansion's converted reception hall, and wondered how many students even knew there was a prison below their feet. He certainly didn't before his own incarceration.
Devon took in every plank of wood and every shade of wallpaper as they walked towards the cafeteria. It's all like I remember, he marveled, they rebuilt this place perfectly. I wouldn't have been able to tell it blew up two years ago.
Once they reached the kitchen attached to the cafeteria, Katherine motioned for Devon to sit at the island. "I figure you have to be hungry after being in that cell for the last day," she said as she pulled cold cuts out of the fridge. He nodded while only half paying attention to her. He was too fixated on the pristine remodel of the kitchen. Not offended by his distraction, she made a quick ham sandwich and passed it over on a plate. The clink of the dish hitting the marble countertop brought back his focus. He scooped up his lunch, and started eating it with all the gusto of a death row inmate enjoying his final meal. "Your friends are settling in well," she informed him. "They seem quite happy here."
He nodded in time with his chewing, pleased with that. "I take it that this means you've all decided not to turn me over to S.H.I.E.L.D. then?" he asked between bites of sandwich. Even though he deduced as much, he still needed to hear their decision, just to be sure.
"That's correct. When you and the others arrived, Phoenix scanned your mind to confirm your intentions. Based on that and other variables, we have determined that your actions over the last two years were an unfortunate series of stupid decisions; not deliberately malevolent." She placed her hand on his; preventing him from shoveling the last few bites into his mouth. She leaned in close to make sure she could hold his gaze before she continued. "That said, we can't overlook what you did do, so there will be repercussions for your actions. First off, you remember my son, Chayse?" Devon nodded. Grinning, Kathrine let him finish his meal as she leaned away from him. "Good, because he's now an instructor here, and is going to be personally responsible for watching you. Consider him a Parole Officer in charge of helping you learn to control your ridiculously self-destructive levels of impulsiveness."
His shoulders slumped as his crust fell back to the plate. His narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow as he gnawed the inside of his cheek. He wasn't sure what to be most insulted by: the reminder of his Juvie record with that parole officer comment, the fact that a former classmate now needed to be "in charge" of him, or the crack about his impulsiveness. Because I didn't hear enough about my recklessness after Trish got shot, he recalled. Still say it's the stupid bitch's fault for standing in the doorway.
Katherine whisked away his plate and deposited it in the sink. "Oh, and don't think that you'll be getting off scot-free for leaving the mansion without permission, either. You - and your friends - will all be serving detention with professor Kinney at some point to make up for that, as well as any transgressions you might have committed while involved with the Brotherhood." She turned back around and smirked at Devon's blanched expression. He suppressed a shudder as he remembered his last session with Lucas Kinney.
"I trust you can find your own way to the men's dormitories. The room you and your friend Zeke will be sharing is already listed on the directory at the landing. We've taken the liberty of leaving some clothes on your bed. I'm sure you'll want to wash up and put on something fresh." With that she left him to his musings.
Not even a minute after Katherine left, a person Devon wasn't sure he was ready to see walked in. Willow was humming to some music on her mp3 player as she shuffled into the room; completely oblivious of her surroundings. She bopped up to the fridge, and started gathering some food while belting out the chorus of the pop song. Devon fought against a smile as he watched her shake her hips and scoop the food on to a plate. She turned around with her eyes closed, intensely listening to her song as she mimed singing into an illusionary microphone she formed in her free hand. Finally opening her eyes, she noticed him sitting there; watching her. She jumped and almost spilled her lunch down the front of her; the microphone mirage dissipating. Scowling, she ripped the earbuds out of her ears. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you in the cell?" she growled.
He shrugged before hooking his arm around the back of his chair. "They let me out. It would seem that I'm not quite the traitor everyone thought."
She studied him for a few seconds before spinning back around and slamming the refrigerator door open. "On second thought, I'm not actually that hungry." Shoving her plate into the fridge, she allowed the door to slam shut again as she headed back out of the kitchen.
Devon bolted out of the chair and reached across the island, knowing full well it wouldn't be enough to stop her. "Willow, please..." He drifted off as she whirled on him. He drew back his hand, a little afraid she was about to break it off and feed it to him.
"No, Devon," she snapped, "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want anything to do with you. I don't even want you in this school; my home. Just leave me alone." With that she stormed out.
Devon sank back into his seat; wondering if he could ever do anything to fix the wound he had dealt Willow.