"Mein Gott," Kurt whispered. Similar whispers of discontent washed across the room, but no one was willing to raise their voice.
The television flashed pictures of the high level super-powered prison. Rubble fell from all around, terrifying and ferocious figures danced atop the prison, and the anchor lady continued to look backwards and around, her shoulders hunched out of fear.
"The Avengers are already on the scene," she explained in a higher voice than normal, "fighting to control the breakout. So far, there isn't much change. Reports of loosed villains are spreading around like wildfire –"
Kurt turned away from the screen, pushed past Logan, and made his way over to Scott. "I don't think they can handle this on their own," he told the man in a low voice. He didn't need the whole room overhearing him.
"By the time we get there, the fight will either be won or lost," Scott countered.
"So if the Avengers do fail … shouldn't we be there to help clean up the mess? Not exactly our M.O., but don't you think that may clarify our image to the nation?"
Scott shook his head. "If the Avengers fail and we're there, we'll be targeted just as badly as the men and women that broke out."
"Not by our friends," Kurt insisted. "Scott, we need to be there. This affects all of us, not just the Avengers. We have some people locked away in that prison that would love to take another swing at us."
Logan came up beside Kurt and clapped him on the shoulder. Kurt's knees buckled, but he was able to maintain his balance without problem. "Elf, they're gettin' some back into their cells. They have it under control."
Kurt shot Logan a skeptical look. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah."
Scott cleared his throat. "We should all get back to work. The jet still needs some work done to it, right Kurt?"
"She can still fly clear," Kurt replied.
"Yet it still isn't finished."
"Nein," Kurt conceded. "I guess I should finish that, oder?"
"Go. Get Rogue to help you out."
Kurt nodded and walked away from Scott to the other side of the room, where Rogue had made herself at home. Her right leg was draped across the back of one of the chairs, her left leg holding up the majority of her weight. Her eyes remained glued onto the screen of the television, drinking in the updates the news crew had to give. Ororo stood to Rogue's right and Remy sat at the edge of the chair, leaning forward with rapt attention.
"Rogue."
Rogue's neck snapped around to look Kurt in the face. Once she recognized Kurt's face, she settled down. "What's up, 'Crawler?"
"Mind to give me some help on the jet?" he asked.
Remy looked around as well, much more slowly than Rogue had. "Need an extra hand?"
Rogue shrugged. "Sure, sugah." Her voice sounded confident, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she turned back around to watch for continuous updates on the news channel.
Kurt's eyes followed Rogue's for a moment before he realized Remy had even spoken to him. "The two of us should be okay. Thanks, Remy."
"Ya," Remy replied flatly. "I'll come down an' give you da big updates."
"I don't know if I could handle that," Kurt said.
"Rogue?" Remy asked.
"Ah can get them later."
Giving up on the two of them, Remy shrugged a shoulder and turned back in his chair. Rogue waited for the end of the current commercial to end, rose to her feet, and followed Kurt out of the door. "Awful terrible goin' on over there," Rogue commented once they were out of the room.
"Ja," Kurt agreed shortly. "I don't think we should be standing around idle. Scott's giving us busy work. It isn't right."
"You talked to Scott?" Rogue asked rhetorically. "Ah guess he knows best. Tactical leader an' all that."
"That's the thing," Kurt argued, his voice raising ever so slightly as their feet took them down the hallway. His hands jutted out in front of him as he talked, the muscles rigid with his tension. "I don't think he's making the right decision. We could be over there in a couple hours and helping clean up this mess. We're supposed to be super heroes, nicht wahr?"
"Some super heroes we always turn out t' be. One look at you an' you send people screamin'. Ah touch someone an' Ah might kill 'em."
"Okay, and when have we ever let that stop us? We're good people, Rogue. We do what we think is right."
The two of them paused as they waited for the elevator doors to open at Kurt's touch. Rogue avoided Kurt's looks as they entered the small room and she continued to avert her eyes as they stood in opposing corners. She leaned into the corner of the room. Kurt stood firmly by the control panel, taking a wide stance to compensate for the movements.
"I don't think this is right."
"An' you've made that clear, Kurt," Rogue replied sharply. "Ah don't know what you think Ah can do. Go up an' beat Scott's ass until we're in California?" Rogue lifted her face to direct a piercing look in his direction.
Kurt's posture slumped. "No. That wouldn't work."
"Right. So we're gonna do what Scott told us to do an' wait for Remy to come down an' give us updates. We ain't gonna worry 'bout it."
Kurt didn't say anything again as the elevator descended and the doors opened up upon the arrival to their floor. He led the way out and to the hanger where the jet was stored and waiting for maintenance.
"So what's the problem?" Rogue asked.
Kurt shrugged. "I was going to fix up the stabilizers. The jet's a little choppy on take-off and touch-down. Most of everything else the last time we had her out is up-to-date. I've put a few hours into her."
"An' what do you want me to do?"
"Liebchen, do I look like I have fingers for fine-tuning?" Kurt held up his hands with a half-assed smile, his pointed teeth shining too brightly through the grin. "I can get myself on up there to work on the pieces, but the parts that need help are much too small. Other parts too heavy."
"Kurt, you're hopeless," Rogue retorted.
"Na ja," Kurt sighed. "That's what you get for being a freak."
Rogue situated herself so that she was directly underneath the panel Kurt needed under. She gave it a long, hard stare before turning back to the blue mutant. "Ah bettah not hear any of that from you, Sugah."
Kurt teleported out of her line of sight, reappearing above Rogue, his adhesive fingers and toes gripping onto the smooth metal of the jet's fuselage. "No, really. My fingers are so fat and few." Kurt wouldn't let Rogue win this one. Wallowing in self-pity wasn't usually his style, but he figured it was a slightly better idea than having the fight at the prison at the back of his mind. Happiness wasn't on the menu.
"Think you can hand me … something to get this panel off? I forgot to grab my tools."
"It'd be faster for you to get them yourself," Rogue pointed out. Even so, she was already inches above the floor and floating to the side of the hangar where all the spare parts and repair tools were organized.
"Doch," Kurt argued lightly. "Besides, we can't have you feeling worthless."
"Wouldn't grabbing Sean be a better idea?" Rogue asked.
Kurt relinquished his hands' grasp on the jet and shrugged. "I guess he's out. Danke." Standing up to his full height, Kurt reached for the wrench in Rogue's hand. Squatting down again, he set to work on removing the panel.
"Um, Rogue?"
"Huh?"
"Once I release these bolts, this panel's coming down. Hard."
"Are you asking for help?"
"Ja."
Floating up to level herself with Kurt, Rogue held her hands above her head to hold the sheet in place as Kurt finished taking out the last two bolts. The weight shifted slightly in her hands, cuing her to take the piece down to the ground.
"'Ey, you two in here?" Remy's voice rang out in the cavernous hangar.
"Nein. We're on vacation," Kurt replied sarcastically.
"'Fraid I got some bad news."
In a flash of a second, Kurt jumped off of the bottom of the jet, twisted in mid-air, and landed lithely on the ground. "What?"
"Our side lost."
Silence dragged out between the three persons present.
"What do you mean, Remy?" Rogue asked. Her voice was almost serene.
Remy opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hands floated in front of him as if he was going to paint a scene, but they dropped back down by his side. "Stark is dead. Da Captain is prisoner. An' … we lost. Da Avengers went down."
"The prisoners?" Kurt barely managed more than a raspy whisper.
"Free."
"Oh Gawd," Rogue cried, turning away from Remy. Her hands flew up to her face, cradling her cheeks. "Oh Gawd."
"What do we do?" Kurt asked. He didn't know if he was asking Remy or not.
"I dunno, but I think we run."