Disclaimer - Three universes, and not one of them is mine? Well that tanks.

A/N - Written as part of InterNutter's In-a, With-a, While-a Challenge. The prompt was 'In-a basement, With-an alien, While-a team of medics diagnoses something'.

Harbinger

© Scribbler, October 2007.

Okay, okay, don't panic. Don't paniiiiiic…

"Breathing is shallow. Pulse is … jeez."

"Pulse is jeez? That was scientific."

"Step aside, honey, and I'll take a look. I am a trained medical professional, after all."

"No offence, Mom, but I don't think he's like any of your other patients."

Panicking. Panicking so very much now. Three new people in the room and not one of them a mutant. Kurt tried even harder to blend into the shadows and thought up yet another exotic curse concerning holowatches and bad timing. Trust him to get into situations so bizarre that bizarre wasn't even an accurate term to use. This went beyond bizarre. This needed a new word. Stranzarre, maybe, or bizantastical.

"I can't believe it."

"Start believing, honey."

"But of all places … I mean, if Ron hadn't fallen through the floorboards -"

"Yeah, by the way, ow!"

"An actual real live alien."

"We don't know that for sure, honey," said the woman. The other two voices were a lot younger by comparison, which gave Kurt hope. He was a trained X-Man. He could take a couple of untrained teenagers, no problem.

He could've just 'ported out, of course, except it was kind of his fault for chasing the silver boy down here in the first place. He couldn't, in all conscience, just leave him there to be taken away, poked and prodded by men in white coats.

It'd started earlier tonight when he sat bolt upright in bed, awoken by the feeling he was being watched. He hadn't expected to find a guy in what looked like a liquid metal bodysuit outside his window. He also didn't expect the guy to walk through the window and then collapse on his eiderdown, bleeding and babbling about the end of the world. Kurt had mentally yelled for the Professor, thinking the boy another mutant seeking refuge at the Institute after 'going rogue', as the media had dubbed it.

Going rogue. Huh. The after-effects of Apocalypse were far-reaching and unpredictable. One girl in Istanbul murdered her whole family because 'Mr. Apocalypse told her to', and an old man in Barbados, who'd glowed the dark all his life without hurting a soul, suddenly discharged enough energy to incinerate both himself and his house. Many young mutants' brains were scrambled as a result of the weird Egyptian technology Kurt still didn't understand. People way beyond puberty grew new limbs that they absorbed back into their bodies and never grew again, heard voices in their heads for a week, and … became temporary-mutants. The news was always full of powerful individuals gunned down by police because they threatened their neighbourhoods, or kids who just couldn't physically handle their sudden, extra-violent eruption of mutant abilities.

So Kurt gave chase when the guy broke and ran away from the Institute, jabbering about his lost skateboard, or boogie-board, or whatever, as he passed through walls like they weren't there. Kurt didn't want the guilt of reading about in the morning papers, so he didn't wait for the others. He didn't even get dressed, except to grab his holowatch.

It all went great until he followed the guy into the abandoned Miller house and they both fell through the rotten floorboards into the basement. He could've handled that, except that the guy hit his head, his holowatch was busted, and now these three strangers had rappelled inside. Rappelled.

So not good.

"Mom, are you sure it's safe down here?"

"Structural integrity of the building isn't a hundred percent, as Ron proved -"

"Again, ow!"

"-But it's certainly safer than other places you've been."

"Uh, Mrs. Dr. P, I don't mean to bother you with minor details, but … I think there's something else hiding down here."

Crap. Okay, still not panicking. Maybe the Professor was still in range for some quick mental screaming…

One of the figures pulled some kind of weapon and aimed it at the shadows. "Okay, whoever you are, come out where we can see you."

Not good.

Not panickiiiiiiing…

"Kimmie, honey, don't you think that's a little forceful right off the bat?"

"With you down here too, Mom, I don't want to take any unnecessary chances."

"I sense you don't like it when I try to get in some Mother-Daughter bonding time."

"That's not it. I just -"

"Uh, KP, it's moving!"

CH-CLICK "Not a wise move, chumley."

"Wow, KP, that was almost hardcore."

A new, squeaky-nasal voice chirped, "Mm-hmm, yeah, 'cept for chumley."

"I'm being criticised by a rodent in a nasty old basement in the back of beyond. Well, this is a new low."

Kurt gingerly eased himself forward. If he was lucky, he could reach the silver mutant and 'port them both to safety. If not … he could still 'port out and find the other X-Men so they could regroup and plan a rescue. "Don't shoot. I'm unarmed."

There were still only three of them, making him wonder where the fourth voice had come from. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, plus a woman who was similar enough to the girl to mark them as related. The woman was bent over the silver boy and had a … stethoscope? Who the heck carried a random stethoscope in their pocket? Or a grappling gun, for that matter, since that was what the girl had trained on him.

Could he 'port faster than a hook could impale his chest? He didn't want to try those odds.

"KP, it's another alien." The boy hid behind the redhead. "A fuzzy one!"

"Ron!"

"Actually, the proper term is 'extraterrestrial'."

"Ah! A smart fuzzy alien! Ah!"

"Ron!"

"Kimmie, Ronald, I don't think that boy is an alien. I recognise him from the television."

The girl lowered the gun slightly, glancing at the woman. "He's not an alien?"

"No."

"Is he dangerous?"

Kurt raised a hand. "Nein, I'm not. I'm just half-naked, cold, dusty, and really want to go home, bitte."

"Ah! A smart, fuzzy alien who talks like Professor Dementor! Ah-"

"Ron!"

"Sorry, KP."

Kurt drew a breath. "I think we got off on the wrong foot." He held out his hand. "My name is Kurt. I am a mutant. So is the boy on the floor. Neither of us are aliens. I was just trying to help him when he got spooked and ran in here, and then you three showed up."

A small pink head poked out the boy's pants pocket. "Four!"

'Bizarre' faded into the distance so much it was a speck.

"I thought I recognised you." The woman stood up. "You're one of those X-Men, aren't you? You stopped Apocalypse."

"Well…" Kurt said, embarrassed.

"My Kimmie was a little incapacitated at the time; otherwise she would've helped you all."

"Mo-om." The girl looked sideways at Kurt. "That little ray thingy temporarily gave me a density like lead. I spent the entire crisis in our basement staring at the hole I made in the living room floor."

"Not your finest hour," added the boy.

"Ro-on!"

Perhaps things would've improved from there. Perhaps Kurt would've made some new allies, saved the day without bloodshed, gotten some pants on. Except that things never got the chance, because at that exact moment the silver boy sat up and opened pupil-less eyes that stared at them like they'd just crawled out the primordial soup.

"Galactus is coming. Your planet is doomed."

Not good.

So not good.

Fin.

A/N - Not quite a team of medics, I know, but since Mrs. Dr. Possible has enough brains to power a whole hospital, I hope this still counts.