Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution or any of the characters therein. Title from a Flaming Lips song of the same name.
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"See you outside the blast zone!"
"Told you we should've quit while we're ahead," Todd says. Then they jump in my car and give me one last look as if to say, You coming? But they know I'm not. They drive off without another glance back.
I stand and watch the wheels kick up dust for a while before I reach up to my neck and tighten my helmet. I turn to the other car and the guy who'd told us about the second train in the first place.
"You know where the train's headed?" I ask as I approach his window.
He nods. "Yeah, the guy on the radio said for people there to evacuate. It's right next to where I work. Do you want a –"
I'm two steps ahead of him and already climbing into the backseat. "Don't mean to be rude," I say, "but let's get going. I've got a train to catch."
I mentally high-five myself for that dramatic zinger and make a note to use it in any future crises involving trains. Radio Dude shifts the car into drive and pulls a quick u-turn. I'm reminded to buckle my seatbelt when the force of the turn throws me against the door.
"Hold on," the driver tells me, and I somehow kick the urge to tell him that it might be too late for that. "I used to street race when I was your age. Let's see if I can get this busty old car to go forty miles over the speed limit."
He's not kidding about the street racing thing. He zips through alleys and swerves through turns like it's second nature, and I'm painfully reminded of the incident with the X-Jet. I don't know how he avoids hitting someone in front of us and making a six car sandwich with Avalanche and Radio Dude dressing, but somehow he does. The guy is good. I'd probably be more impressed if I wasn't about to vomit all over his passenger seat.
"You're one of those Brotherhood boys, aren't you?" he asks as he steers us into the wrong lane. "I've seen you guys on TV."
"Yeah," I reply. My eyes are directed forward at a big semi barreling toward us. "Hey, there's a truck coming –"
He's already on it. He kicks down the breaks and twists the steering wheel, and we go skidding around another corner. A little bit of puke comes up, but I swallow it before it's too late.
"What are your friends doing running away?" We narrowly avoid a fire hydrant. Sweet Jesus, just kill me now. "Aren't you all supposed to be heroes?"
I grip my seatbelt and mutter, "I guess they didn't see train crashes in the job description." My stomach flops again. "You know, you can slow down a little. I'm not in that much of a hurry."
"Yeah, but those trains sure are. Don't worry, we're almost there." He honks and a cyclist pretty much falls out of our path. Oops. "Your friends don't sound as great as they do on the news."
"No, they're regular old heroes," I growl, leaning my helmet against the headrest and closing my eyes. I can feel a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead. "We have costumes and everything. First class superheroes."
We speed up (if that's even possible). "We're almost there. I hope you've got a plan."
"Uh…" I haven't got to that part yet. I decide that I should probably start planning that out soon. "I'll be fine. Usually I just pull it outta my ass as I go."
"Good plan," he remarks. I can see tracks in between the buildings. We come to a sudden stop, and he places his arm around the back of the seat and turns to face me. "Here we are."
I open the door and nod to him. "Thanks for the ride." And for the scariest three minutes of my life, I add to myself.
"No problem. Good luck, kid. You're a braver man than me. Try not to get yourself killed."
I don't really know what I'm supposed to say to that last part, so I just step out of the car and close the door behind me. I watch him back out of the alley before I turn back to the tracks. I take a moment to collect my thoughts and let my stomach dislodge itself from my throat. Feeling slightly less woozy, I step up toward the tracks. Now all that's left to do is wait.
It doesn't take long. Soon enough I see a single train car (apparently it's been disconnected – I don't stop to think how) as a growing speck in the distance, and then it whizzes by me. It occurs to me that I probably should have tried to stop it before it blew past me, but I'm distracted.
Someone's on top of the car.
"Damn it, Kitty," I mumble to no one.
She's kneeling on top of the train with the elf, and obviously I' not going to trip up the car now – they may be X-Geeks, but I don't really think it's a good idea to kill them or anything. An annoying voice in my head that sounds an awful lot like Pietro tells me that even if I'd knocked the car off the rails Wagner could have bamfed them to safety, but I hesitate. I don't trust him that much, after all.
The fuel tanker is stopped in the middle of the tracks only ten yards down. Grey, who I hadn't noticed before (like I said, I was distracted) is floating in front of the lone car, trying to stop it, but (predictably) she's having little success. I realize Kitty's plan a little later than I'd like to admit. It looks like I'm going to have to trust Wagner – I know damn well what Kitty can do with her powers, but phasing through an entire train might be a little tricky.
No, I just sit there and watch, as it's apparent I'm just the backup plan. Admittedly, I'd feel a bit better about that if I had some sort of backup plan in mind, but it's not like there's anything I can do. Right now it's time to hope that Kitty's a lot more powerful than I give her credit for. I cross my fingers despite myself.
Red gives up, and it's Kitty's time to shine. She gets through the beginning okay, but I can tell she's beginning to get tired. I start to sprint towards the tanker.
Halfway through the train she gives out and the car screeches to a stop as metal meets metal.
"C'mon, elf," I mutter, still stupidly jogging toward a tank full of fuel that's about to blow up in my face.
He 'ports them out of there just in time. They reappear a few yards in front of me as everything goes to hell. I think I'll just be blunt.
The train goes boom.
That's the best way to describe it. I think to myself that I should probably do something, and I'm about to raise up a wall between the three of us and the train, but Grey's doing her thing. She does her best to hold back the explosion, but the bubble of fire is slowly expanding and pushing her back against one of the buildings.
I waste no time in walking forward, past Kitty and the elf, and into the middle of the tracks. I like to think that Kitty swooned when she saw me, but I really doubt it. I did hear her gasp, though. No joke.
I do my best to ignore her for the time being. There's work to do.
Well well. Time to save the day. Let's do this. Superman sure as hell ain't coming. Just me now.
Red's about to give out. No problem. I just need a few seconds.
I kneel down and touch my hands to the ground.
Listen.
My eyes roll back in my head, and the ground collapses downward. A trench forms, quickly snaking its way towards and then under the bubble. I press against the ground a little more. The earth beneath the bubble begins to sink, slowly but surely, and the train starts to collapse in on itself and into the new crater.
Almost done. Keep going.
I'm shaking now, but it's too late to stop. Just the top half of the explosion rests above the ground, but that's a piece of cake. I will the ground to listen, and listen it does. A wall of rock juts out and extends until it finally covers the entire explosion, one lone billow of smoke the only indication that anything ever happened at all. (Well, that and the big stone dome in the middle of the tracks. Oh well.)
That's that. Day saved.
I sigh and get to my feet, turning around as I do it. Summers is standing there. He doesn't look too impressed. Red floats down and places her hands on her hips as she gives me an equally nasty look, as if I didn't totally save her ass right there. Kitty's leaning on Wagner for support, her face unreadable.
"Don't worry," I say as I push past Summers, "that's the last of the heroics." I look back to them, and I can't prevent a hint of remorse from entering my voice. I mean, this kind of was my fault, after all. "Count on it."
I swivel on my foot and walk down the tracks toward the horizon. I dunno what exactly I'm expecting – if Summers is going to say, "Good job," if Grey's going to lecture me on the danger of my actions, if Kitty's going to limp over and tell me she was wrong, that I'm not a hood – I've got to be a level or two above, white trash at least – but nothing happens. I'm not really surprised. It's not like I did anything spectacular. Just cleaning up our own mess. That's the Brotherhood for you. We don't hurt anyone and we don't help them either. It wouldn't even matter if we weren't here at all.
I undo my helmet and take a deep breath as I continue down the tracks. I wasn't lying, either. That's it for us. We're done. I'm sick of playing the hero. It's time to go back to being Lance, the insignificant speck on the blip screen of humanity. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Two years of fighting has worn me out. I'm ready to sit back and relax.
I'm not stupid, though. Even as I step off the tracks and climb up to the road, I know that a day's going to come where I'm going to have to save the X-Geeks again. But that's in the (hopefully) distant future. I'm not too good with the whole hero business anyways. I like being morally ambiguous. It's less demanding.
And so I shrug off Superman's cape and become a hood once more. It may not be a big honor or anything, but it's a role that fits me well. And right now, that's all I'm looking for.
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