Title:Insomnia
Author:Shaan Lien
Category:Gen fic, not slash
Rating:R (overall, language)
Summary:Abductions of thirty-one young women across Metropolis, Gotham, and New York City appear to be nothing more than an unexplained anomaly. Yet for the reporters at The Daily Planet, the X-Men, and Bruce Wayne, these seemingly unconnected events become more than just random occurrences when Metropolis suddenly becomes home to not one but two "supermen".
Timeline:post Antarctica (X-Men), during Superman Returns, post Dark Knight
Author's Notes: Draws on Superman: The Animated Series, Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, Superman I, Superman II, Superman Returns, Smallville, X-Men (the movie, comic, & cartoon), X-Men 2, Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, and Batman: The Animated Series
one
The East End
Gotham City
They had arrived too late. Not late enough to be confused about just what the hell was going on, but far too late to rescue the girl. Mutants with any number of powers and even run-ins with the fledgling Friends of Humanity organization the X-Men were accustomed to but not men dressed in black sporting assault rifles and handguns. But the middle of Gotham City wasn't a prime location to land the Blackbird, so they drove. Originally, only Scott and Ororo were headed to the New Jersey city, but courtesy of a "bad feeling" from Logan, both he and Remy had followed in the former's Jeep. If Logan's instinct hadn't been based on the grumbled proclamation of "nothing good ever came out of Gotham", Scott Summers would have deemed the declaration uncanny. As it were, the man merely remained a cynic. Or a realist, Scott couldn't help but muse.
Diving head first down an alleyway, Cyclops narrowly avoided a spray of bullets. Hand to his visor, Cyclops turned as he fell, knowing that it was one of the men with the assault rifles behind him. The thin ruby red beam shot from his visor and struck the man in the chest, stunning him instantly.
Getting to his feet, Cyclops charged for the end of the alley, hearing more gunfire and ignoring the dull throb of his shoulder from where he had struck the dumpster. The air crackled around him as a bolt of lightning flashed somewhere quite close. On such a clear night as this, Scott could only attribute such a phenomenon to one: Storm.
Two men lay sprawled upon the pavement unconscious, their rifles cleaved into bits by Logan, without a doubt. "Cyke!" a familiar voice rang out from where—Cyclops couldn't tell. "Behind you!"
As he turned, hand to his visor, he knew he hadn't been quick enough as the staccato of gunfire already sounded. Dumpsters, trashcans, wooden pallets, and cardboard boxes lined the alleyway. Against bullets, most wouldn't protect Scott in the least and the dumpster was too far away. At least three dozen cards filled his field of vision, all glowing brightly with that telltale fuchsia signature of building energy. The force of the multiple simultaneous explosions knocked Scott backwards, the leader of the X-Men biting back a cry of pain as he struck the wall of one of the surrounding buildings.
Shaking his head vigorously in a vain attempt to clear his vision, he saw Gambit release his telescopic bo staff to its full length. Holding the staff at the very end, Gambit lashed out. While he wasn't able to knock the rifles from the three men, he did throw off their aim.
Bullets bore into the brick wall and glanced off asphalt. Before Scott could get to his feet, adjusting the focus of his visor as he rose, Gambit launched himself at the men clad in all black.
"Get Ro," Gambit shouted even as his booted feet struck one of the men in the chest and he drove the end of his bo into the neck of another. The concussive force, thin as a book cover, sprang from Scott's visor and struck the third assailant in the shoulder, knocking him back into the wall beyond. The man unconscious before he struck brick.
Cyclops rounded the corner at a run, hand already to his visor, hearing the sputter of automatic assault rifles and bullets ricocheting off surfaces. He bypassed three of the black-clad men lying unconscious on the sidewalk; their weapons fragmented no doubt by Wolverine's foot-long adamantium claws.
Not one to charge recklessly into a situation without surveying it first, Cyclops slowed at the edge of the next building, stopping to glance down the alleyway. Though all had gone quiet, he knew any one of these men could be lying in wait and he was not fond of being shot.
Midway down the alley, Logan was circling two of the men. From the intent in their eyes and the anticipation obvious in their stances, these men were itching for the opportunity to engage someone who would fight back. No matter that Logan had metal claws that came from his hands or was built closely akin to a Mack truck. Like the other three on the sidewalk, their rifles lay in four pieces on ground of the dirty alleyway. "Three more took off down that way," Logan stated without taking his eyes off the two men.
Thinking Logan was distracted, the two men attacked.
With a growl, Logan met their attacks head-on and Scott ran past, knowing Logan would be able to handle these two. Their mission was to save a mutant girl they hadn't even caught sight of yet. One man was already crying out in pain by the time Scott reached the end of the block. He glanced this way and that to see just where the men or Ororo had gone. There wasn't much to go on; the streetlights didn't extend this far into the alley, this was not the best part of Gotham. He slowed his breathing and turned at the first sound, which sounded like a startled feminine cry.
This time he didn't pause or check his surroundings, knowing Storm's voice far too well for caution, knowing these men hadn't hesitated to use their weapons on the X-Men. Focusing quickly on the man who was bent over Storm's dazed form, the ruby-red beam drilled into the man's shoulder before he could even look up, knocking him back into a dumpster unconscious. "Storm," he called out to her, kneeling next to Ororo and holding the white-haired woman by her shoulders, only now sparing a glance to his surroundings.
"They went into that warehouse," Storm managed, hand to her head. "Go, Cyclops. I will be fine."
"Where'd they go?" came Gambit's voice suddenly behind him and Cyclops whirled swiftly, body in front of Storm's, hand to his visor. Damn that thief, Cyclops couldn't help but think, knowing he could not scorn the man aloud for moving so silently.
"Into the warehouse," relayed Cyclops as he helped Storm to her feet. "Go around that way." Catching sight of Wolverine approaching them at swift run, he directed, "Wolverine, around front."
For a man often at odds with Scott, Logan took the order in stride. He moved faster and more silently than anyone could expect of a man his size, but then again, none of the X-Men conformed to expectations. When Scott turned away from the sight of Logan's retreating back, Gambit was just turning from Storm and moving away again. Truth be told, we were unprepared, Scott had to admit as he jogged down the alley as quietly as possible to reach the side door of the warehouse.
When he stepped into his car back in Westchester, thoughts of a young girl homeless, involved in prostitution, or petty crime had run through his mind. The East End of Gotham City evoked images of poverty, not professional tactical teams. This girl Cerebro had picked out was a low-level mutant at best, but something about all this made Scott think her mutation was a factor. A substantial factor.
If Logan hadn't insisted that he and Remy tag along, they would have been a lot worse off, but they still lacked their uniforms and communications equipment. As it was, frightened children didn't respond well to three grown men dressed in odd uniforms. Gambit was another issue entirely, if Scott had thought this would be anything but run-of-the-mill, he wouldn't have brought along the recently returned Cajun who didn't seem at all like he was ready for a mission.
Testing the doorknob of the steel warehouse door, Scott found it to be locked, but easily solved that problem by slicing through the deadbolt with the laser-like beam that constantly emitted from his eyes. He opened the door slowly, checking behind him to see how close Storm was.
In this darkness, he could make out figures, but not much detail; however, Storm wouldn't be able to see anything. Fortunate in some ways for the men accompanying them, Gambit and Wolverine wouldn't have difficulty with the lack of illumination.
Unfortunately, the warehouse wasn't empty. Crates, boxes, and metal freight containers were stacked anywhere from ten to fifteen feet high. Storm certainly wasn't the best to have in close combat situations, but he sent the tall woman off in the opposite direction, knowing from years of experience that she could fend for herself. Stealing down the length of the building, Scott headed for the stairwell that would lead up to the catwalk overlooking the warehouse floor. The only purpose for the tactical team to go in here was for a shortcut or if they had a vehicle waiting for them. This certainly wasn't their base of operations, especially for such a seemingly well-oiled machine.
A flare of fuchsia to the left was accompanied by a loud bang and soon after followed by gunfire. Scott was running, down the catwalk, not caring how much noise his boots were making on the metal grating as he took the stairs down three at a time.
He jumped the last run of stairs completely, with gunfire still echoing, and the warehouse illuminated in spurts with each object Gambit charged.
Just as he cleared the last aisle of stacked pallets and storage racks, Cyclops saw something or rather someone swoop down through the loading bay of the rear of the warehouse and barrel into three of the men of the tactical team.
Simultaneously, one of the rifles aimed at Remy started to glow, two playing cards were speeding towards two other men, and Wolverine had launched himself, claws extended at the four remaining men. Explosions sounded as two men cried out in agony as Logan drove his claws into places not fatal, but most certainly incapacitating.
The men thudded to the ground and only four of the seven men tackled to the ground got up. Two, however, were immediately felled by Cyclops' own input, a flash of lightning downed another, and then there was just one left standing. But in the blink of an eye, that man was on the ground as well, out cold.
Silence followed the incredibly brief takedown of what remained of the tactical team. All five of them stood motionlessly, listening for any sign that someone remained, but all they heard was the resounding wail of police sirens approaching. Cyclops was surprised it took them this long, but that thought was lost when he realized who stood next to Gambit.
The Batman crouched down to pull the mask off one of the unconscious men, while Gambit and Wolverine zeroed-in on the two conscious men. One was writhing in pain from whatever wound Wolverine had inflicted upon him and the other just lay there, panting heavily. Logan ripped off the mask, but Gambit addressed the man, that hypnotic quality in his voice that Scott had only heard in his tone several times before in the past years.
"Tell me who you work for," Gambit said slowly, his eyes glowing brightly in a way the leader of the X-Men had never seen before. The strong Cajun accent was gone from his voice; Gambit had been known to drop the accent well aware that the drawl made him stand out far too much.
"I don't know," the man panted out, his eyes not diverting from Remy's in the least. "Donovan takes care of all that."
"Donovan?" prompted Gambit.
"Donovan Hammond," came the answer after a few gasped breaths. "O God, it hurts."
"Who's the girl?"
"Some mutie with regenerative abilities."
Gambit glanced briefly to Wolverine, who only responded by crossing his arms over his chest. "Where are the other girls?" The gravelly voice Cyclops didn't recognize. It came from Batman, who now stood behind Gambit's crouched form. I wonder who he is that he disguises his voice, flitted through the back of Scott's mind.
The man's eyes left Remy's face, his gaze seeming a bit unfocused for a minute as he looked to Batman. His expression grew hardened even as he pressed his hands to the steadily bleeding wounds at his side. "Fuck you, you costumed freak."
A cry rang through the warehouse as Gambit grabbed the man by the front of his body armor and hauled him close. "I want the names of the girls you've taken." The man's gaze locked with Remy's again and though he opened his mouth to respond, no words passed his lips. "Tell me the names of the women you've abducted."
"Sadie Docherty, Naomi Aitken, Taylor Decker, Teresa Valdez, Darcie Morin," the man rattled off quickly and Gambit released him. With a grunt of pain, the man slumped back on the warehouse floor.
Storm spoke up from next to Cyclops, "The police will arrive any moment, we do not need to be seen here."
Batman was gone in the time it took for Scott to glance to Storm and back to him again, though his sudden disappearance did not garner any attention from Gambit or Wolverine. "Let's go."