"What?" she snapped after her rather limited patience for being ogled ran out.
"I was just wondering," he scuffed his shoe on the metal floor. "How did you guys - the five of you - get picked for this mission?"
"Just lucky, I guess," she deadpanned.
"Ha ha."
"Well, Mags as our means of transportation. Vic had a few contacts who helped organize the whole thing, and Su was her partner, as I understand it. Ric and I were an accident."
"Very funny," Evan smirked.
"No, really." Nicole looked at him as though he were stupid. "We were passing by on our way to some experiment. One of the girls must have been thinking safety-in-numbers. They jumped the guards, took them by surprise, and next thing I knew I was sitting in the middle of your breakfast."
"You sure were." Evan thought sadly of his stack of fluffy pancakes that had been suddenly not so. "Hey, isn't it kind of a coincidence that you guys are all our kids?"
"Nearly everyone is," Nicole shrugged. "All the mutants coming out of the breeding pens. Everybody knows you guys are -"
"Got it," Ricky said suddenly.
Jean knelt beside him, touching his shoulder to more easily access his visions. "Jubilee and Forge are ... sleeping. Something's off in their brain waves, but I think they're okay."
"Guards?" Logan asked shortly.
"Not in the room," Jean reported. "Actually, not too many in the whole base."
"There's a sort of control room," Ricky added. "Some people around there."
"Can you lead us there?" Logan was still unwilling to put too much faith in this newbie's powers, but reaching the prisoners quickly was undoubtedly in everyone's best interest.
Ricky cast his mental eyes over the map his powers had given him. "Yes."
*
Kurt was dreaming about driving. He was cruising around Bayville in Scott's convertible. Fred Dukes, of all people, was sitting in the backseat, talking, and, oddly enough, playing a game of dominoes against himself. The traffic light ahead was glowing orange, and Kurt slowed without thinking anything was strange about the signal. An abnormally well-dressed squeegee-man lumbered to the shiny vehicle, and began thumping his tool against the windshield.
"Go away," Kurt said to the man. As the banging persisted and Fred began to shout, he grabbed the book of maps in the passenger seat and flung it at the offending person.
The sound of math book connecting with wall brought him fully back to the waking world.
"Kurt?" That was Fred's voice, so presumably he was the one knocking on his door. "Are you awake?"
"I am now," he groaned, attempting to kick away the tangled blankets.
"Okay," he said cheerfully. "Dinner's on the table in five minutes."
"Great." A particularly vicious kick sent the covers flying across the room, poufing in midair and settling gently like unmanned parachutes.
*
The group of mutants and single human watched with bated breath as Betsy and Kevin slowly emerged from their trance. Beast darted forward as Betsy's legs promptly crumpled under her, and her fingers twisted gratefully into his fur.
Moira came forward. "Are ye alright, child?" she asked, worry sharpening her accent slightly.
Betsy only nodded. Her face was awash with sweat, and her breaths juddered in her chest as Hank guided her to a chair.
The atmosphere in the room was tense. Even more so when Kevin finally opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused, and the glazed look served to make him seem considerably younger than his fifteen years. Moira instinctively moved towards him, but he held up a hand.
"Mam," he said, voice barely above a whisper. A bead of perspiration dribbled to the end of his nose and dripped onto his shirt, but he didn't even acknowledge it. "Mam, I saw ... everything."
"Kevin?"
"It was wonderful, Mam. I was flying, high in the sky, and I could see it all. You, the Centre, Muir; it was like I was a piece of air. And I saw things I've never seen before, I *felt* things I've never seen before."
Moira's brows knit together. "What're ye saying? Kevin - "
"Mam, it was like ... like I found it."
"It?"
"That thing everybody looks for in life. That missing piece of myself. It was there, I touched it." His fingers strayed to his chest, and rested atop his heart. "I can still sense it, inside me. But ..." His tone changed, becoming faintly wistful, "There's still something missing. From both of us. We need to find it."
Susan appeared at Moira's shoulder, smiling. "Now do you believe us?"
Abruptly, Kevin's eyes snapped back into focus and he stood up. His muscles shook a little from underuse, but he walked sedately across the room and laid a hand on his mother's shoulder. She met his gaze, and to her great surprise she saw a strength in his eyes she'd never seen there before. A self-confidence he'd lost the day his powers first emerged and he'd nearly levelled their home.
Tentatively, she reached out and touched his cheek, as if to remind herself he was still real. His hand clasped over her own, but he didn't break his stare.
"Mam, I saw what Betsy knows about the future. I saw what needs to be done. Mam, I wanna go with her and Professor Xavier. I want to help. I ... I *need* to help her, 'cause she can't do this alone."
Moira didn't say anything for a moment, and when she did her voice was barely above a murmur. "Are you sure? This isn't some mind trick she's played on you?"
"Mam, I'm sure. This is what I want. Betsy's helped me, and she can help me more. Just like I can help her."
For a second Moira's expression contorted to one of intense sadness. Then she shook her head, and though there were tears in her eyes she smiled. "Then who am I to stand in your way?"
*
Todd, being the handiest person at the wrong moment, had received the dubious distinction of delivering food to the Danger Room. Bobby and Sam had resumed their guarding positions there, chatting idly about something that did not interest the amphibious mutant in the least. Thus it was that he wound up back at table with the others.
The task of watching Wanda had fallen to Lance, who had somehow convinced the volatile sorceress to conduct herself in a manner that might be considered civilized. Though she had no kind words for the assembled dinner party, she at least refrained from hexing them into the previous week.
Kurt's sudden arrival in the room seemed to be sufficient proof that his powers were back to functioning. He took his usual seat, noting that Kelly had claimed the head of the table. Mags chose to sit next to him, while Roberto, Ray, and Amara jostled for the remaining chairs.
The majority of his attention, as usual, was drawn to the food. At least, what he could see of it.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "Why are the plates covered?"
"Because presentation," Fred slapped Lance's reaching hand, "is everything." In one smooth motion, he uncovered the two silver platters. "Voila."
"Now this," Amara said appreciatively, "is food fit for a princess."
Apparently the company was not so, as half a dozen hands instantly reached for the serving utensils, of which there were only two per dish. A quick battle for possession and much shouting out of dibs ensued.
Wanda ate her food quickly, barely tasting it, as she struggled to cram it all in. She hadn't had this much to eat in years!
However, she was less than happy.
She had been knocked, or somehow made, unconscious, dragged to a strange place, and held in a room. Her entire life had been turned upside down for no apparent reason. She had an unpleasant feeling that her father was behind it. These people were obviously mutants, and that was her father's forte, wasn't it?
She had been further frightened when a strange, terrible blue monster suddenly appeared at the dinner table, but all the other diners seemed unconcerned by his appearance.
It was all very confusing, quite worrying, and extremely enraging. Still, she would go along with their plans for now, but sooner or later Wanda Maximoff would start demanding answers.
Just outside the Institute, in the quiet and peaceful wood, all was not well.
Three jets, slender, silent, and dark landed in a small grove of trees. Such was their technology, and the skill of the pilots, that their landing barely rustled the branches of the many trees.
One by one, six figures got out of the planes, equipped with the finest espionage equipment, weaponry, and skills their future possessed. The six figures made their way to the mansion, to recapture the renegade Neo-X-Men.
*
Logan paused at the end of the long corridor and sniffed, beckoning the rest of their motley party when the way proved all clear.
Ricky, forehead shining with sweat, pointed to the left of the T they'd come down. "That way. There's a wall ... thick metal doors ..."
Kitty stepped forward. "No problem," she said, with more conviction than she felt. They'd passed through so many doors, walls and heavy bulkheads since leaving the cargo bay that her powers were nearly wiped out, and as they linked hands once again to let her guide them through the solid matter she gasped with exertion.
Logan gave her a sidelong glance. "Hey, kid," he said, indicating to Ricky. "See if you can find us a route that don't involve Shadowcat exhausting herself."
Ricky blinked. "I can ... try," he replied. "But it'll take twice as long to reach the holding room - "
"Look, we need Kitty to get out of here, so if she collapses we're sunk in ways you can't imagine."
Nicole stepped in between them. "We can imagine just fine, but quit putting so much pressure on him. He's tiring himself out using his abilities so much, and without *him* we're sunk. If you hadn't noticed, this place is like a rabbit warren, and I haven't seen too many signposts. Have you?"
Logan grunted something unintelligible, and behind him Jean adopted a look of concentration as she subtly sent threads of strength through the ether to the troubled mutant boy. Ricky looked up, but she shook her head and held a finger to her lips.
After a few seconds he piped up, "Left, down three doors and there should be an open entrance to your right. Jubilee and Forge are right in the centre, but we'll have to skirt the outer edge of the ship for now. The further in we go, the more guards there are. They seem to be concentrated around those two and the control room."
Once again assuming the role of leader, Logan nodded and moved off, letting the others trail along in his wake.
Jean made as if to follow him, but stopped short as a voice filtered through the ether into her mind, using the link she'd established.
"Thanks ... Mom."
*
Kelly had to be impressed by the food. It looked like the stuff TV chefs whipped up, and tasted like it came from quite a fine restaurant.
"'S good," Todd commented.
"Shut your mouth when you're eating," Fred chided.
"Herr Kelly," Kurt spoke up. "Did you say you double-majored?"
"I did." The principal twirled pasta onto his fork.
"In administration."
"Yes."
"You like to lead?"
"Yes." Kelly contemplated the parsley sprinkled liberally over everything. "I wanted to go into politics, but ... never quite got there."
"You should go back to school," Kurt advised.
"Yeah ... just not ours," Lance cracked.
"Maybe," he shrugged. "Maybe."
*
"By the way, kid ... any time you want to manifest a power would be good."
"Thanks for that newsflash," Nicole snapped. "You just say so, and I will."
"Don't you get fresh with me," Logan warned.
"I'll be however I want!" She pressed into his face. "I'm through existing at other people's convenience!"
"Nicole!" Kitty shouted. "As your mother, I order you to behave yourself!"
"You have no control over me!" Nicole further raised the volume of the conversation. "Your only contribution to my life was 23 chromosomes!"
Kitty felt like she'd been slapped, and sagged back against Jean's strategically-placed shoulder.
"If you guys are done?" Evan said quietly. "We have a mission."
*
"Hey, kid."
David peered over the tops of his knees, blinking wide eyes. "Me?"
Pietro looked around them theatrically. "Don't see nobody else fits the description. So, why'd you end up ... y'know, where you were?"
David's brow creased a little. "I ... don't understand."
Ororo had left the two boys alone whilst she herself ventured out to find more suitable clothing for David than the set of almost-rags he was wearing, but which wouldn't swamp him like everything the Infirmary had given up. Pietro had never been one for silence, and approximately thirty seconds after her depature was trying to strike up conversation with the quivering boy. For his part, David had retreated into the middle of his bed and sunk into his blankets until practically the only thing visible was the top half of his face and a few tufts of grubby hair.
Pietro rolled his eyes and pulled himself up into a sitting position, wincing only slightly as the muscles in his arms contracted up until they ended in what used to be the middle of his hand. Whatever serum of Dr. McCoy's Ororo had pumped into him seemed to be dulling most of the pain, and staving off the shock he would've been undergoing otherwise.
"Y'know, in the asylum. Why'd you end up there?"
"Oh." David's gaze travelled down to rest somewhere in the proximity of his toes. "'Cause I'm dangerous, and had to be put there for my own good and the good of others."
Something about the way he spoke put Pietro in mind of ventriloquist dummies, and one snowy eyebrow arched as he drawled, "Riiiight. They tell you to say that?"
"It's true. I *am* dangerous."
"No more than me. No more than Miss Jean Grey. *She's* a telepath, and you don't see her staring at the world through bars."
"That's different. She has ... control. She can stop herself from hurting others by mistake. I don't have that. I'm just gene trash."
The speedster sucked in a lungful of air through his teeth. Jeez, talk about brainwashing. A small lump of terror manifested in the region of his stomach as he wondered whether his sister held the same beliefs as David. He couldn't imagine being taught for almost all your life that being a mutant was bad. Magneto had always informed his son that his abilities put him above the rest of mankind, and he revelled in them as a result. To think that Wanda could be afraid of something so great ....
However, always mercurial, he put the thought out of mind and regarded David with a critical eye. "I can't believe I'm saying this. Jean's only had the kind of training you should've had. She was taught how to use her mutant abilities properly. That's the only reason she has more control. If you had the same tutor, I'm sure you'd be just as powerful as her."
David sniffed, demonstrating what he thought of *that* particular theory. "I'm dangerous," he repeated, like a stuck record. "I'll always be dangerous. Even my folks thought so. That's why they out me in that ... that place."
"You got family? You should tell these people that. They'll try to find 'em. Let 'em know you're OK."
David hung his head. "I ... I don't know who my family are. My mother died when I was very young. We used to live in Israel. Something to do with my Mom's work. There ... there was a terrorist bombing. My mother ... she got caught in it ...." He blinked back tears, voice dropping to a whisper. "I saw everything."
_Oh Jeez!_ "What about your father? Was it *him* who put you in the asylum?"
A sniff. "I guess it ... it must've been. I don't remember much of that time. My father never lived with us, and after the attack ... the doctors said I had shock. He must've come for me, and locked me up in there, but I don't remember him doing it. Or even what he looks like. I think I only saw him once in my entire life, and then I was really small. But my brain ... there was something wrong with my brain ... I couldn't remember things, but ... I heard voices. Voices that told me to do things, and shouted at me when I didn't. People said I was a schizophrenic." Reflexively he tapped the side of his temple.
Pietro nodded. "I understand," he said, not understanding at all. "My sister ... our Dad put her in a mental institution when she was real young. She had powers too, but she couldn't control them, and rather than help her through the rough patch he put her away and let others do it for him. Bastard." To his own great surprise, he spat out the words with very real venom. Confronted with such a pitiful picture as David and the reality of what might've happened to his twin all these years, Magneto loomed large in his consciousness as nothing more than a monster willing to sacrifice his own children in the pursuit of a dream.
David seemed about to say something, but the words choked in his throat as a surface thought flew into his brain. That of a familiar girl, younger, but definitely the same.
"Wa-wa?"
Pietro's response was instantaneous. He leapt off the bed and gripped the front of David's shirt in an iron fist, taking no notice of the blood that leaked from beneath his bandages as a result. "Wa-wa was my nickname for her. Nobody knew it except us. *Nobody*, not even *him*."
There was a tenseness to his tone that frightened David, and with a cry he pushed at the older boy with all his might. Pietro fell backwards, his grip weakened by the loss of certain key muscles. He was a little surprised that kid David could push that hard, but was even more so when a bolt of flame suddenly shot from the telepath's fingertips, slamming into his chest and sending the fastest mutant alive backwards into a filing cabinet.
He lay there for a moment, utterly stunned. From somewhere in the distance he heard David whimpering.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I told you I was dangerous. I'm a freak. Gene trash. Nothing but a misery to everyone."
David scrambled off the bed and ran for the door on tottery legs. Pietro heard him wrench it open and go pattering off down the corridor, still apologising. However, he himself wasn't capable of doing much to stop him at that moment in time, since he was currently being assaulted by numerous coloured stars and something that smelled like burnt pork.
*
The six FoH soldiers were almost within the mansion grounds now, any closer and they would set off the security. But this would shortly be of no concern.
One of the soldiers took out a small, grey box; he pressed a few buttons on it. There was a humming sound, and all the electricity in the mansion disappeared.
The humming sound reached the ears of Rimmer, and the lights went out. He smiled in the darkness; he knew they would come for him.
As one, the diners gasped as they were plunged into darkness. "Was ist passiert? [1]" asked Kurt in surprise.
"Um ... the power seems to be down," said Kelly. "Does this happen often?"
"Nein," replied Kurt. "Probably a problem with the generator or something. Suppose I should go and fix it."
*
_Stupid piece of freaky gene trash. Why are you here? You should be put away in a dark place. You're not normal, you're a freak! Freak! Heaven hasn't got a place for you, you should rot in Hell. That's why your dad put you there, to die! To be punished! Be glad you're even alive. You should be dead and in the earth where you can't hurt anyone, and you do hurt people. You always hurt people. Your kind exists to give others pain. You deserve pain for that, freak, you - _
David ran through the corridors of the manison, not sure where he was heading, not sure of anything except the internal voice that was screaming at him.
Suddenly the lights went out, he stumbled and fell. No! It was dark again! They did dreadful things in the dark! Oh not the dark, please, please not the dark!
There was the sound of footsteps. He turned
to see something, a hunched, strange something lope towards him. A monster.
He curled himself up and whimpered.
"Was? Who is it?"
The strange creature came nearer. Its fur was midnight blue, its eyes glowed golden, it had two spiky fangs.
"P-p-please ..." whimpered David.
"Shhhhh," said Kurt, realizing that this must be the 'David' boy Jean had mentioned before. The poor child looked terrified.
David flinched as the blue, three-fingered hand came nearer. What was it going to do to him? He reached out tentatively with his mind, trying to discover some of its motivations.
A brief flurry of memories, ideas, personalities and thoughts assaulted him.
_Don't scream again. I hate it when you scream, I'll have to laugh it off and comfort you even though it hurts like knives. Yeah, I know I'm a blue freak, but why should that matter? I'm not really a freak any more than anyone else. Or am I? Not your fault you're scared, everyone else is, I'm sure. Oh you poor thing! What have people done to you? Need to get the generator on line. Please don't be scared any more._
David smiled tentatively; this one was safe, he was nice. He liked the blue one, he was a freak too.
Slowly, David dragged himself up onto his feet.
"Sehr gut," sighed Kurt. "Now, come with me, I'm going to put the generator back online, and then we can go and get you some more food, OK?"
David nodded shyly, and grabbed hold of Kurt's arm. Kurt didn't often get touched, he would like this. Kurt was soft, like a teddy bear. David wished the guards hadn't torn up his teddy bear in front of him when he was younger. It had helped keep away monsters. But now Kurt was here, he had a new teddy bear. This was good.
They wandered down the twisting hallways. Nightcrawler, not for the first time, thanked God that part of his mutation had been night vision.
Even he was caught by surprise, however, when six figures dropped from the ceiling. Each of them held a decidedly deadly-looking gun, and each of them had FoH emblazoned on their breast.
_This can't be good,_ he thought.
*
Ricky stumbled, throwing out a hand to steady himself against the cold metal wall.
"I ... I'm sorry. I can't go any ... further."
"Oh hell," Logan growled, whipping around and gathering the smaller mutant up into his arms. Ricky was limp, and swam in and out of consciousness, muttering incoherently. The inevitable had happened. He'd overused his new powers and, essentially, blown a mental fuse. "Rest up for now, kid. I'll see you right."
"Right, left, straight on," Ricky mumbled, eyes drifting shut with exhaustion. "Mind the guards, lotsa guns. Bang, bang, shoot 'em down, see how long it takes a mutant to drown. Not long, can't swim, blub, blub, blub ..."
"He's hallucinating," Kitty murmured.
Nicole brushed past her. "No, he's remembering."
"Mind the needles!" Ricky suddenly cried out, jerking upwards and then falling back. "They'll prick your eyes out! Stick 'em on forks and feed 'em to their Hounds!"
Logan looked thoroughly disconcerted, unused as he was to caring for youngsters on such a one-to-one, intimate basis.
"Here." Jean relieved him of the boy, cradling her future son in her arms and letting his head flop against her shoulder. Ricky seemed so pitiful and small, and she wondered how anyone could bear to hurt mere children the way these Friends of Humanity purportedly did.
Nicole's urgent whisper screamed down the corridor, freezing them all in their tracks. "Hush up! I think I hear someone coming!"
Soundlessly, Logan moved to her side, straining his own extreme hearing for a sign of other life in this seemingly desolate craft. What reached him was a noise like booted footsteps, and he slid out his claws slowly, easing them through his flesh so as not to make a noise.
"On my mark, we jump 'em," he growled.
"Now you're talking my language."
"Aim to knock 'em out, not kill."
"Maybe not, then."
They paused a moment longer, muscles tensed. The atmosphere was thicker than pea soup, and it was almost a relief when Logan suddenly bit out, "Now!"
As one, both he and the powerless mutant leapt out and showed themselves to whomever was rounding the corner. There was the briefest glimpse of dusky uniforms, helmets, and a cry before Logan's trademark yell drowned them out. He barrelled forward, thrusting his shoulder down and into the guard's solar plexus. Bone made contact, and the Fiend slammed backwards into the wall with a sickening crunch, then slid down into a heap on folded legs.
Nicole wasn't so lucky. The second of the two guards was more shrewd than his partner, and leapt clear before she could make contact. His hand went to his belt and whipped out a gun similar to hers, levelling it off and firing in one fluid movement. Nicole flung herself backwards, hands meeting the floor. She twisted her entire body around to flip over as the stream of red laser narrowly avoided her face. So narrowly, in fact, that it took a second after feeling something brush her face to realise it was a few strands of her own hair, still smouldering slightly.
Grunting, Nicole brought her feet around in the flip to land squarly on the wall, then used it to push off and fly into the guard. He tried to sidestep her again and aimed his weapon, but she threw out her arms and caught his shoulder, making him stumble.
It was all the opening she needed, turning her action into a roll and then swinging her leg around to knock his feet from under him. He went down hard, smacking his head, but she leapt up and grabbed his lapels in her fists, thunking it down again just to make sure he was out and not just faking it.
When she was sure he was out cold she straightened up, and felt an unthreatening hand on her shoulder.
"Not bad," Logan murmured. "Not bad at all. Feel better now for beating something up?"
She drew back her foot and kicked the fallen guard in such a manner as would've made him sorry to be male had he been awake. "Now I do. Come on," she twisted out of his grasp and started off down the corridor. "We can't be far now, according to Ricky's last directions. Let's get the lead out already. The longer we stay in this place, the more chance we have of getting caught."
Kitty brushed past Evan with a sigh, reaching out and clicking his mouth shut. "She's too young for you, and you are, like, totally not what a mother looks for in her daughter's boyfriend."
*
Kurt's first instict was to freeze, letting his coloration hide him in the shadows. He narrowed his eyes to blot out their light, and slowed his breathing as far as he could.
"Nightcrawler and mutant boy," the lead man said. "Give yourselves up now, or we will shoot to kill."
"Come in peace, shoot to kill," Kurt murmured, as David began to cry into the back of his arm.
"Surrender now!" the man shouted down the barrel of his weapon.
Kurt raised his free arm slowly, and lowered himself onto his knees. He fully intended to put the enemy at ease, then teleport upstairs for reinforcements and a more favorable position.
"You too!" The FoH aimed at David, indicating him towards the floor.
"Sit, knabe," Kurt said softly. "We're going to be all right."
David crumpled more than sat, but the men were apparently satisfied.
"Big one first," the leader ordered. "And quickly."
The soldiers holstered their weapons with trained precision, pulling out some sort of restraint and advancing cautiously, yet with an air of authority.
They were going to take his teddy bear, David realized. He'd just found a new Safe Thing, and they were going to take it away. Why did this always happen to him?
He sensed Kurt's stress, not recognizing it as a pre-teleportation expenditure of energy, instead mistaking it for fear.
He was a freak. He hurt people. These people deserved to be hurt.
Kurt was a split second from opening a wormhole to the dining room when the temperature in the dark corridor soared beyond any summer day he could remember.
David felt the familiar guilt over using his powers, but it didn't stop him this time. Heat poured from his bare skin, touching the metal surfaces of the hallway.
"Stop him!" someone shouted, but it was already too late. There was no stopping, even if he wanted to.
Flames burst up around the two boys, casting light where there had been none, rolling away from them in orange waves. It was not so much a circle as a solid field. Everywhere it touched a person, it roared up their bodies, eagerly consuming their clothes and flesh. The guns twisted and melted into the floor, mixing with the ashes of their owners. The death screams echoed around the sublevel, bringing several of the diners pounding around the corner.
"David, no!" Kurt shouted as the fire rushed towards their comrades.
Amara was ablaze an instant before the flames reached her, pressing her hands forward as if against an invisible wall. David's pyrokinetic projections shot towards her force field, curled over backwards, and shrank away, swirling around themselves under her power.
David was sobbing openly now, shaking his head and mumbling incoherently. The flames were so hungry ... they wouldn't go away until they had devoured everything ... or until someone else could extinguish them.
Bobby appeared from the other end of the hallway, hands stretched towards the flames. Blue light shone around his fingers as he cast a layer of ice to cool the conflagration.
"David," Kurt rubbed the younger boy's shoulder soothingly. "We're all right. I said we would be ..."
The exhausted mutant threw himself around his teddy bear, attaching himself in such a way as to suggest that he did not intend to disengage for quite some time. Kurt cradled the boy, standing and crossing the ice with the sure footing granted by his mutation. "Amara. Bobby." He nodded to the two teens. "Good work."
Bobby surveyed the suddenly treacherous flooring and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Guess I'd better get the lights on then, eh?"
*
Despite everything, Kevin's goodbye to his mother was tearful on both sides, and it took a full three minutes of hugging without coming up for air before the X-Men et al managed to prise them apart and guide him onto the jet. Once on board he contented himself with asking a number of - surprisingly intelligent - questions about the craft which Scott took great delight in answering. It wasn't often he got to show off his technical knowledge without being told to shut up, and Kevin was actually listening too. Needless to say, their fearless leader took a shine to Moira's son almost immediately, and had Betsy not already done so he would probably have taken Kevin under his proverbial wing as he'd done with Kurt on his first day at the Institute.
Kevin and Betsy sat towards the rear of the jet, insisting on sitting side by side. Nobody saw fit to argue, and the seating arrangements were rearranged accordingly and with little fuss.
However, just as the Professor was bidding goodbye to his old friend, and was about to wheel himself up the ramp he paused, glancing upwards with a frown.
"I believe we're missing one. Where's Rahne?"
"Here I am!" As if on cue, the little redhead bounded up, a tall, Hispanic-looking boy only a few steps behind. The youth regarded Xavier with a strange eye, but kept his greeting to a swift nod and apologetic smile in Moira's direction.
"Sorry, Doctor. No watch." He held out his wrists, which were indeed bare. She responded with a roll of her eyes and light cuff about the ears that he laughed off with an easy charm Xavier found himself not quite caring for, for some inexplicable reason.
Rahne turned to Charles, a pleading look on her face. "Professor, can I just have a minute? To say g'bye, I mean."
Darting a look at Moira, he nodded and whirred up into his accustomed seat. As soon as he was aboard Scott began warming the engines, and the grass around the jet flattened itself as if in subservience.
Rahne turned to Moira, hands clasped behind her back and scuffing her feet. She'd been here for such a short time, yet things had clicked back into place like she'd never left the island at all. It was like moving out all over again, and her voice caught in her throat a little as she addressed the woman who might as well have been her mother.
"It was real nice seeing you again. I missed you ... I mean, the Institute's nice an' all, but it ain't home."
Moira smiled, holding down her hair against the updraught of the engines. "There'll always be a place for you on Muir, Rahne. You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah, and don't stay away so long next time, eh lobocita?" Manny flashed his trademark dashing smile, but his T-Shirt blew upwards to cover his face and ruined the effect.
Rahne gave a watery grin, and turned to go. But at the last second she whipped around and enveloped Moira in a tight bear hug, which was over before it could be returned. "When this whole thing's over, I'll come visit properly, OK?"
"We'll look forward to it, hen."
Rahne bounded up the ramp, eyes drying out as she went and evaporating any stray homesick tears that threatened to fall.
"Hey! Lobocita!"
Manny broke away from Moira's side and ran up after her. Rahne paused in the mouth of the hatch, aware that her teammates were watching and wondering what the Spanish boy could want. He surprised her by planting a quick peck on her cheek and grabbing her hand.
"I'll be waiting, yeah? And I'll think on what you said."
Dumbly, she nodded, and he held her pale fingers in his own dark ones before letting go and sprinting back down to the ground. She watched him from her window as the jet took off, studiously ignoring Tabitha when she started making cat-calls, and sending a silent thank-you to Betsy when the telepath finally became so annoyed that she telekinetically sealed the blonde's lips shut for the rest of the journey.
*
Things had calmed down once again. The wreckage in the hallway was considerable, but not irreparable.
They moved back into the dining room, David still clutching at Kurt's arm, whimpering slightly. Kurt, though more than willing to try to calm the terrified boy, felt more than a little nervous in his presence. He had, after all, incinerated six armed men.
The events of tonight had left him a little shocked, a little tired. He allowed himself to relax for a few minutes, to close his eyes. Thus it was that, to his detriment, he did not pay total attention to the conversation which followed.
Wanda had moved to sit next to them; she seemd oddly calm, and she put her arm around David.
"There, there ..." she cooed, in an almost motherly manner.
"Wa-wa?" David lifted a tear-streaked face.
"Yes, it's me Davie, you OK?"
"Yeah ... no ... I ... I hurt those men."
"Don't worry, darling, they deserved it."
"But ... I was bad! I hurt them, and I hurt Pie-pie too! But I didn't mean to! I didn't -"
"Pie-pie?"
David blinked, he wasn't sure what had possessed him to use that name, probably a term he had grabbed off the top of the boy's head while he was in it.
"Uh ... yeah ... the silver-haired quick one, he's in the infirmary, he knows you, he got angry 'cos -"
But Wanda wasn't listening at the moment. She stood up and strode out.
*
This was beyond anything Betsy had ever felt before. She could hear Kevin's thoughts, but this wasn't telepathy. This was deeper, more fundamental. She wasn't just sensing his mind, she was sharing it. The thoughts were coming from both of them in perfect synchronization. Their breaths had fallen into a matching tempo, and she felt sure their heartbeats had also.
As far as Kevin was concerned, the world's glass was half full. In fact, it was fuller than half. Each of his cells fairly sang with Betsy's nearness. She was the steadiness, the drumbeat he'd been looking for all his life. His rhythm.
Now they only needed to find the melody.
*
Smash had to applaud the X-Men. They had convinced the three mutants of Susan's finding to join them, fought off new enemies, and more or less kept it together as they hastened to reassemble for the impending face-off. Of course, they had also had several loud arguments, suffered personal breakdowns, and let one of their own go missing.
"At the tone, the time will be exactly 9 PM Eastern." Smash grinned into the darkness. "Beep."
*
Rogue was fully aware of Susan and Victoria's covert cuddling, and politely pretended that nothing was going on. Questions floated around her mind as she stared out the window. The sun was setting behind the jet, making the glare off the ocean unbearable, so she soon turned her attention back to the aircraft's interior.
"I'm sorry," she said, causing two pairs of eyes to snap towards her, two spines to straighten in their respective seats, "but I have to ask. How did y'all get here?"
There was a long pause, during which Scott said something to Xavier about an ETA.
"I had a friend," Victoria said at last. "And I had a friend who had a friend. The first friend was dying. The third friend ... his power was ... is ... will be? Anyway, he takes the last energy from dying people, and he can channel it to someone else."
"Wow," Rogue whispered. "Is he related to me?"
Susan and Victoria exchanged a glance. "You may be ... his parent," the blonde one said carefully.
"You mean his mother?"
Susan sighed. "He might not have a biological father."
"But -" Rogue started in confusion.
"In our time, it's possible," Susan cut her off. "Please don't ask."
Rogue nodded mutely, and Victoria continued. "This dying friend, she talked to me one day. She ... she knew her end was coming. She wanted to donate her last life force to the mutant cause, so the rest of us could be free."
"Her last life force ..." Rogue repeated. Victoria nodded, and the full implications of the third friend's powers hit her. She clasped a hand to her mouth.
"When this girl, the first friend, fell into a coma, he took her energy," Victoria went on. "We had a ceremony for her that night, before the guards could take her away and ... do whatever they do to the bodies."
The two girls were silent for a moment, thinking of those they had known.
"Now this third friend," Victoria said after paying her respects, "was in contact with Margretha, on the outside. He asked her to come in, and gave her the first friend's energy so she could jump us all back to your time and try to save ours."
"We must not fail," Susan said in a hard voice. "Too many people have sacrificed. Too much was lost, that we might win." She sighed, her hand finding Victoria's. "At best, we are fighting a Pyrrhic battle."
*
How elegantly they played the game. The pieces moved with flaming precision and they avoided water wonderfully.
Smash giggled.
He *liked* games, even more than flames.
Life, he had determined, was one big game. Now the phoenix was in him, he could fly upwards, see the board, and become a player. Before he had just been a pawn.
The X-Men though, were just pieces, it seemed. He feared them not at all, for their movements had already been made and planned and set. They'd done well to do this much, but soon would be toppled.
He was aware that his mommy and half-brother were in the belly of the beast, in FoH's very gut. How funny!
Perhaps he could have a reunion, then he could sing and scream and burn them until they added their screams to his. He loved screaming, he was good at it, he had a lot of practice. It would be fun, a nice family activity.
No! Bad Smash, if they scream before they are ready then their echoes will hit him and kill *him*. He must be careful. He was screaming in a cave of bats. He had to be careful how he screamed, and that he hit the right rodent, or the screams would return and turn him into dust.
Shame. He wanted to make the entire town scream really, wanted his own, private orchestra, screaming in turn, fit to make him want to sing. He'd like to hear Mommy and Daddy scream, scream mercy for creating him, he'd like to pluck out their eyes and tear out their fur bit by bit and do all other wonderful things, until death gagged their voices. That would be fun. That would make sense.
Maybe in the future ...
He he.
Somone had once asked him why he was doing this, why he wanted to preserve the furture. Smash could only ask why not?
After all, he was a god. He had to be here for a reason. He had to be. Why else would he have been tortured so much? Why else would he have known so many experiments, so many horrible needles, pricking him like truth. Why else would he go through so much suffering unless it was part of some grand plan. A plan to teach him how to be God?
Surely, there had to be a reason they hurt him so much. Right?
Ah, but things were going well. The end conflict would be *fun*!
But there was another player, or another pawn. A namesake that put anxiety into Smash's heart. Pyrokinesis, telepathy, telekinesis, everything a bird could want.
What if his bird flew out of his cage and into his namesake?
No, never happen. HE was chosen for this. HE was DAVID WAGNER, he was PHOENIX! Reborn out of the ashes of the fires of agony.
But he had work to do. Had evidence to plant. A quick teleport, plant a few papers and it was done.
As he drew near the school, and into the empty principal's office, Smash began to sing softly. Soon he would sing loudly, and all the world would scream in chorus. What a loverly orchestra that would be.
*
Lance was fast on Wanda's heels, his recently-replaced napkin crumpling to the floor.
"Is he going to finish that?" Mags asked in reference to his abandoned plate.
Everyone else just stared dumbly at the exiting teens.
"Wanda!" Lance shouted. "Don't do this!"
"Go away!" she yelled over her shoulder.
"You don't really want to hurt anybody!"
"You *bet* I do!"
There was more anger conveyed in Wanda's stride than Lance had seen in any more blatantly violent action. He was afraid of her. Like he'd been afraid of some of his foster parents. Except more, because she had powers worse than being able to ground him and send him to bed without dinner.
Todd wordlessly pushed back his plate and stood. Ignoring various demands to disclose his destination, or at least ask to be excused, he headed for the infirmary.
*
Ororo had just finished patching up Pietro's minor burn when Jamie had a revelation.
"Hey," he grinned. "We had ice cream before dinner."
"Huh," Pietro surveyed the dishes and empty carton. "I guess we did."
"Don't make it a habit," Ororo said as she cleared away the extra gauze.
"Aww," the two boys said in perfect harmony.
"Aahhh!" Pietro added.
Wanda wrenched the door open at that moment.