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The youth looked at his parents in earnest, a small tear coming to his hazel eyes. "Mom, Dad, I have something important to tell you." He clasped his hands together between his knees and hunched forward, his sandy brown hair falling over his eyes as he hung his head low.
His mother leaned over and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"What is it, dear?" A small smile played on her lips. "Tomas, you know you can tell us anything. We love you." Her smile deepened into one of comfort and concern. "Please, tell us." Her hand tightened on his shoulder, rubbing it gently as she reassured the young man. His father nodded his assent to continue, presenting himself as the strong figure of resolve and support.
The boy took a steadying breath, and looked at both of his parents, worry battling with relief. "Mom, Dad, I... I'm a mutant." He smiled, again, and took another breath.
The mother clapped her hands to her mouth stifling a cry of heartbreak, as tears slowly streamed down her face. The father remained stoic; his jaw clenched tight and his eyes hardened, untold emotions remained locked behind stony walls. Any more of the boy's tale, however, was lost as the screen faded to black.
"Crikies! Mutants haven't been out more'n a week or two, and already there's a bloody movie o' th' week about 'em!" Pyro shouted angrily. He tossed the TV Guide at the offending screen for good measure. "Prolly'll end with some lame-ass 'We love you anyways' line from the parents after they fret about having a mutie son for a few days. Brat 'prolly ain't even a damned mutant in the first place!" He cursed again and flopped on the couch in that part of the living area he and Remy had claimed from Magneto's fortress to be the Acolytes' game room. Not that anyone besides those two had ever used it.
"Remy don' understand why you bother trying wit' de TV. We don' got cable, so ain't nothin' goin' be good on it, no?" Gambit pulled a magazine out from under his arm and tossed it at the fire-starter. "Here, read dis." Pyro's eyes lit up in glee as he opened the magazine and a centerfold fell into his lap.
"Thanks, mate!" Pyro chuckled, eyeing the centerfold with abandon.
"Don' worry 'bout it. Remy, he just wan' make sure his friends are entertained." He peered at Pyro, cocking an eyebrow at his comrade's apparent interest in the magazine. "Is good, no?"
"It'll do." The Australian grinned, still keeping his eyes riveted to the magazine. "Hey, why is it that we're th' only two blokes that ever use this place?"
"Sabretooth, he always out doin' his own thing." Gambit mused, taking a chair across from Pyro. "Colossus, he always in his room or Magneto's lab. Dat is, when he be here at all."
"Yeah, what does Mag's errand boy do that we can't?" Pyro snorted
The Cajun leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "You complain? Remy tink maybe, Pyro, he got too much free time, no? Maybe, he tired of watchin' de TV." He sneered, and downed some of his beer. "Maybe, Pyro, he want to be Magneto's errand boy, eh?"
"Oi! Leave off! Leave off! I wasn't complainin'!" he brought his hands up defensively. "I was just wonderin' why ol' Mags asks Tin Man to go out and do his work, when we're both smarter and smoother." Pyro quickly clamped his jaw shut as he heard Magneto stride down the hall.
"I ask Colossus to do my 'errands' because he is the most..." Magneto paused, adding extra weight to his words, "...reliable of you." He turned an accusing eye to Pyro. "He doesn't waste time playing with his toys." Remy's smirk vanished, as Magneto turned to him. "Or dazzling the opposition with his 'charm' rather than killing them!" He glanced down at his two minions, who cringed beneath his flat emotionless gaze. "He is efficient."
"So where is the Tin Man, anyways?"
"Colossus is performing a task for me, Pyro. That is all you need know." Magneto turned on his heel and returned to the depths of the fortress, cloak billowing behind him. "You are mine, remember this. Obey, and be rewarded. Fail me, and you shall be cast aside." His words echoed down the darkened corridor.
Pyro leaned over to Gambit, nudging him to get his attention as soon Magneto was out of earshot. "Not that I care about the Tin Man, but I hope he doesn't screw this one up." He shuddered. "Kept me up the whole night with his bloody screamin' last time he 'failed' Magneto."
"Oui, an' he did nuttin' to stop it, or back outta it." Gambit mused, shaking his head in confusion. "Gambit, be wonderin' sometihn', mon ami." The Cajun lit another cigarette, taking in a deep breath. "Magneto, why he no do dat to us, eh? We fail, he just yell at us. Colossus, he fail, and Magneto make him scream. What gives?"
"Now, who's complainin', mate?" Pyro chuckled, picking up Gambit's girly magazine once more. "Do you want that to happen to you?" He cocked his head to the side, trying to get a better angle on the picture's—contents. "I don't' think you'd be happy with what would happen."
"Non, non, Monsieur Pyroman." He took a long drag of his cigarette. "Gambit is just sayin' dat maybe bein' Magneto's esclave is no' a good ting, eh?"
Eyes wide in incredulity as the other man stared at Gambit. "Are you blinking loony? Crikies! I saw the man soon as he came out o' that room ol' Mags locked him up in. I ain't never seen a man look like that." He shuddered, the image clear in his face. "He was powered up. Y'know, all metal? I don't think he woulda survived if he weren't." Another shudder went through the pyromaniac. "There were holes, man, holes, clean through him. He walked funny, too, like he wasn't put together right or somethin'. And, God, his face..." a haunted look came to his eyes, as though he was dredging up something he had buried, praying to never see it again.
"What? Did it have holes too?"
"Oh, it was banged up pretty bad, too, but... Shit! Gambit, his face was dead." He looked deep into the Cajun's eyes, gazing passed him into something far away, and horrible. "There was nothing there, 'cept maybe pain. He wasn't angry. He wasn't scared. He just... was. Like, he didn't care what Mags was doin' to him. He even thanked him! Thanked him, like he wanted to be hurt! Punished—his due—that's what he said."
"Maybe he did." The Cajun chortled, un-phased by the Australian's fears. "Gambit, he tinks der' people who like dat sort of ting."
"Not Colossus. I don't think he's into the kinky shit." He flipped the page, and ogled another naked woman, Gambit's innuendo taking his mind off the unpleasant subject of Magneto's displeasure. "I don't think he's got enough brains to know there's more than just one way." His eyes bulged as he turned another page. "Like this." He tapped the page emphatically. "Now, I didn't know this was possible."
Gambit leaned over to get a better look. "What, dat? Gambit done dat before. It take de skill." Gambit grinned. "And, a gymnast."
"Double-jointed probably wouldn't hurt."
The rest of the evening was spent commenting on the various modes of display and sex depicted in Gambit's magazine.
At the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, the sounds of children at play echoed across the mansion's stately grounds. Seven boys, to an observer, a set of septuplets, played Frisbee with a freckled girl in pigtails. The girl grinned as the disc, caught by an errant breeze, sailed over her head. She chuckled, and fell to land on all fours, as her body seemed to flow into the form of a wolf with two pigtail-like tufts of fur on its head. She barked happily as she snatched the disc moments later in her powerful jaws. The wolf wagged its tail happily, and blurred, assuming the form of the young girl once again. She laughed merrily and tossed the Frisbee back to the boys.
"Catch, Jamie!" She giggled as one of the Jamies made a dart for the floating disc only to land face first in the dust.
"Damn kids! Wasting their time when they need the training."
Xavier glanced at his long-time companion with unrepentant mirth dancing in his eyes, not that he would dare smile at Logan's discomfort, he had too much respect for his friend to do that. "It's Saturday, allow them to enjoy it." Still, that didn't mean he couldn't tweak the Wolverine's nose occasionally. "Would you rather they lived in the Danger Room? They would certainly get more than enough training. And, it would mean you would have your days full with the children."
"Uh... Now, I don't think..." Logan's eyes widened as he realized to what tortures he had opened himself.
"Yes, I think Jamie would be most pleased. He's always wondered how many of himself he could make, and how many things he could get them to do." The good professor felt somewhat ashamed at teasing his friend so, but, it was so rare that he ever had the chance to see the usually stoic Wolverine squirm.
"Well... I... that is... maybe one at a time... or..." Did he say Jamie? Dear God above, anything but that squirt! He couldn't. He wouldn't. A trickle of sweat made its way down his cheek.
"Yes, and, dear friend, if I may be so bold as to say, I have noticed that you've grown a bit soft in your complacency. Are you getting a tad old for this job?" Xavier's eyes caught his friend's sweat, and mentally chuckled at Logan's discomfort. Now, for the finish. "Yes, too old, definitely. I think perhaps, that spending some time with Jamie would be just the thing to limber you up—remind you of your more youthful days." He barely stifled a chuckle; the look on Wolverine's face was far too precious. The mutant's eyes had now completely bulged, showing nothing but the whites; his fists alternately clenched and unclenched as his claws extended themselves slightly over his knuckles. His body shook with what the Professor could only assume was stark terror.
Logan shook himself from his terror, as he saw his friend laughing at his fear. No... not fear. Well, not fear per se. But, Jamie! I wouldn't wish that child on Sabretooth! Wait, did he say too old? "Who's too old, gramps? With my healing factor, I'm not a day over 30!"
The Professor looked across the field, his expression unreadable. "Yes, better I think to let them have their days of fun. They train hard enough as it is, and school is a burden. Let them be children for a little longer, before they need to grow up and face the harsh realities of the world beyond our walls."
Logan chuckled to himself. He had walked into that one. Still, one good turn deserves another..."Jamie, get over here, the Professor has a story he wants to tell ya!" Logan chuckled evilly as he patted his friend on the shoulder and walked away. Professor Xavier released an indignant squawk in protest.
"Logan, you can't possibly..."
"Turn about, Chuck, is fair play." Logan left the Professor wide-eyed. He sauntered away from Xavier, trying to maintain the air of barely caged death while inwardly laughing at the Professor's plight. Dodging a soccer ball propelled by a telekinetic thrust from Jean Grey, and a volley of ice and bone spears sent from Bobby and Evan, Logan made a beeline for the woods only to fall flat on his rump as a blue blur slammed into him.
"ELF!" he roared, snatching at the offending teen, only to see his hands pass through smoke.
"Hiya, Wolverine, you looking for something?" Logan looked up to see Kurt hanging by his tail from a nearby tree, just out of his claws' reach.
"I'm gonna gut you!" He retracted his claw with a vicious snarl. First Xavier, now Kurt's games, what would happen next?
The German mutant flipped off his perch deftly wrapping his tail around a lower branch, to hang upside down at eye-level with Logan. "Sorry, mein Freund, but I thought it might be a fun trick." He grinned sheepishly. "I am thinking that it might not have worked, ya?"
"Not hardly."
Upside-down shoulders shrugged. "Kitty didn't like my prank either. She said I was being a dork, then she tossed her apple at me." He pulled the fruit-turned-projectile from his pocket and took a bite. "It is not a good day to be the Fuzzy Dude." He sighed between mouthfuls.
"So, where is the half-pint?" Kurt motioned in the general direction of the pool, "Thanks."
As he walked across the back lawn, weaving around throngs of mutants at play, he marveled at the children. The whole world hated them, feared them for their powers and differences. In two days, they would return to that world.
Just a few days before, they had been exiled, expelled from the school they had saved countless times. Their supposed friends and family alike had abandoned them, left them to fend for themselves with the Institute as their only source of solace. The war they had known was coming, had feared coming, had smacked them in the face for all the good their precautions had done. A warrior, a true hardened soldier, would know that now was the time to train. Now was the time to prepare for the inevitable sequence of attack and counterattack. Yet they were not soldiers. They were children charged with the fate of the world. However, rather than fight, they played.
"Maybe, that's why we're going to win," he mused, spying Kitty by the pool. "The kids haven't forgotten the good parts in life. They're not hardened by the war, yet."
"Um, excuse me, you're blocking my sun."
Logan looked down to see Kitty reclining on a lounge chair. She looked cute in her yellow two-piece and ponytail. "Didn't realize you owned it, half-pint." The Canadian grinned and took a spot on her chair, motioning the young girl to make room. He looked up at the cloudless sky, shielding his eyes from the noonday sun with a raised fist. "Nice day you gave us here, though."
She giggled, tossing her book to the ground. "You're welcome, Mr. Logan." She looked at the sky, also, taking in its beauty. "It is nice, isn't it?"
"Not too many of these days," deep brown eyes met hazel ones sparkling in mirth, "not even in summer." He sighed. "Warm, soft breeze, quiet," he leaned down, pointedly. "Peaceful."
He searched her face, reading her response.
Kitty's smile slowly faded, the sparkle Logan had detected before diminishing. "It won't last. Soon, things'll change."
"Well, true, this is September, the 'Dog Days' they call 'em. Soon, fall will be here in full force. Then, it's hot cocoa, mulled cider, and, then winter."
"School. School will happen. Or, the Acolytes will attack. Or, the Brotherhood." She shrugged at the thought of the peaceful day being ruined. "It doesn't matter who or where, someone will always try to kill us, or use us. Either way, trouble will come and..." She paused looking deep into Logan's eyes. "We'll always be there to stop it."
Logan's expression was unreadable as he weighed her words. Kitty was, in some ways, the baby of the group. She was the smallest member of the team. Coupled with her indomitable cheeriness and sheltered home life, she often exuded a naiveté that caused the other X-men to see her as childish. Yet, she never failed to rise to any challenge, no matter the odds. Her keen wit and perceptive nature often caught details and patterns that others missed. This side of her, however, he had rarely seen. Maybe, it was her intellect arriving at a logical conclusion. Perhaps, it was just her belief in Xavier's dream. Perhaps, the girl truly was as naïve as everyone thought.
The girl beside him giggled childishly, and took a sip of her iced tea. "God, I'm starting to sound like Rogue, or Scott. All morbid and junk. You'd think that I had, like, lost my favorite pet or something." Deftly she phased her hand through her chair and retrieved her book. "Things aren't so bad, really. I mean, it seems bad now, but we're here, and we're trying to help people see things differently. And, we'll win." Her voice toughened, slightly, not with cold certainty, but passionate resolve. She knew beyond a doubt, beyond reason, that mutants and humans would learn to coexist as equals.
"How do you know?"
"I dunno, I just do. It's like, I know that things are better because people are here. We could all be living in fear in our houses, or in the woods of Canada. But, we're not. We're here in like, a mansion, living with each other, and working and learning with normal humans in a normal school." She paused and took another sip of her tea. "That's how I know we're going to win. We're in a normal school, taking normal classes."
Logan grinned, and ruffled the young woman's hair. "Victory through homework, is that it?"
"Well, I dunno about that. I could like, definitely live without homework."
They laughed for a while, reveling in the pleasant mood of the warm autumn day. Yet, their reverie was shaken by a telepathic summons from the Professor
"To me, my X-men! Meet in the Briefing Room at once."
Xavier looked around the assembled mutants—both faculty and X-men—and considered the decision that laid before him. Two mutants—Sabretooth and Colossus—had attacked a military base in Maine. They had silenced the base almost instantly, and no alarm had been raised. By the time the government learned of what had occurred, it would be too late. The X-men were their only hope, but, who should he send? Too strong a presence would intimidate the soldiers more than reassure them. Yet, too weak a presence would be crushed beneath the two behemoths. Whomever he sent would have to have obvious powers, as well, yet ones that would not be too disturbing.
They would need to be strong, yet identifiable powers. Jean—perhaps the most obvious choice for this mission—will have to be left behind, as will Ororo. Telekinesis and climate control can be terrifying powers to behold, and difficult to explain. Hank and Kurt, as well, need remain behind; their appearances are far too different from the human norm for them to be easily accepted. Rogue is in a coma, Evan is with the Morlocks, leaving Scott, Logan, and Kitty, to be the only remaining options. Ironically, they are also perfect for the task. Scott will be the voice, the one to talk to the soldiers once the dust settles; Logan will be behind the scenes, the hardened warrior, proof to the soldiers that we are serious in our work; Kitty's perception and phasing will be invaluable tools in getting the downed soldiers to safety.
"I have received word of an attack against a military base in Maine by Sabretooth and Colossus. This could turn into a public relations disaster, if they are not stopped swiftly." Xavier tented his fingers before him, resting his elbows on his desk.
"What about the government?" Ororo motioned to the assembled mutants. "Surely, this is a matter for the US government, not the X-men."
"The government is ill-equipped to handle a mutant assault, especially one involving Sabretooth." He sighed, considering his next words cautiously. "Now, more than ever it is essential that we demonstrate our willingness and ability to work together with humanity for peace. The X-men must present themselves as guardians of that peace, and the opponents of all people—mutant and baseline—who upset that precious balance."
"Fight fire with fire, right Professor?"
"More like use sugar to counter acid, Cyclops." Hank mused, clapping a blue-gray paw on the young man's shoulder. "We must combat acid cruelty with sweet kindness, eh?"
Xavier nodded. "Beast has it right. Logan, Scott, Kitty, I am sending you three."
"ALRIGHT!" Kitty shouted, pumping her fist in the air amidst much clamor from the rest of the mutants.
"No, Professor." Scott clenched his fist, waving his arm emphatically towards Kitty. "This won't work. Kitty's much too young and inexperienced for this mission." He looked around the group, settling on Kurt. "Send Kurt with us. With his ability to 'port, he can be in and out of anywhere. Besides, Kitty's..."
"... Not good enough?" The young girl snarled, her voice low and deep in her throat. She glared at the team leader, death clear in her hazel eyes. "I'm as good a fighter as you; Mr. Logan's been training me. And, what if you come to a computer system you can't get into? You're going to need someone to hack it." She sneered at Scott, disdain clearly evident in her every word. "You know I'm the best programmer on the team. There isn't a computer I can't get into, and believe me, you're going to need someone who's at least as good as me, and Kurt is nowhere that good. Unless you think You can tackle a government mainframe with redundant fail-safes like multiple encryption levels, strong passwords, collapsible circuits, automatic over-rides, and hard drive lockups." Her sneer twisted into an evil smirk. "You can't even program a VCR!"
Scott glared at her in return, bringing his head to eye level. "You've never really been tested in the field—you've only done sneak attacks. Not all-out combat!"
"Enough!" Logan extended his claws and in one swift motion embedded them to the knuckles in Xavier's desk. The room was silent. "Or I'll settle this my way!"
"Scott, as team leader," Xavier's voice rose above Logan's tirade, "You must know how to carryout a successful mission using everyone's abilities." He turned his steely gaze to Wolverine. "And you, Logan, can learn to curb your temper."
Logan snarled, but nodded despite the rebuke; Xavier's reasons were clear. He and Scott could handle Magneto's two lackeys. She, on the other hand, could handle the sneakier aspects of the job. It was high risk, but he and Scott were capable fighters, and could easily cover the girl. Kitty would get much needed field experience, while proving herself to the rest of the team, and, Scott would learn to accept his fellow teammates' abilities. The boy still wanted to be the big brother of the group, trying to protect everyone on the team while putting them in danger. For him to become an effective leader, he needed to put such sentimental feelings aside.
"Xavier's right, boy, you'll take your orders and like it. Suit up, we fly as soon I prep the blackbird."