Ill Tidings

by irthos

Xavier receives a late night visit and message from an unexpected acquaintance. X-men/Getbackers crossover.

Disclaimer: I own neither the X-men not the Getbackers. If I did I'm sure I'd mess it up somehow, and then I'd be dodging assassins left and right. Or maybe lawyer ninjas…

a/n: This story is set between the first and second X-men movies with hints for the last two and pre-canon for the Getbackers series. The only thing I know about the X-men universe is what I have seen in the aforementioned movies. As for the Getbackers, I've seen the complete anime series and have read through volume 19 of the manga. Anything else discussed in this story not covered in the above media is the invention of my own twisted little mind. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Xavier receives a late night visit and message from an unexpected acquaintance. X-men/Getbackers crossover.

Ill Tidings

by: irthos

Charles Xavier was sitting in his study thinking. Of course the others, Jean especially, would call it brooding. He was contemplating the events of New York. Disaster had been too narrowly diverted. They had been lucky to escape with only 'minor' casualties: Logan had regained consciousness earlier that week and Rogue had become the sweet girl they all knew once again. Xavier sighed, Eric had become too reckless. He only hoped that Eric would come to realize that.

Xavier shuddered as he imagined the possible consequences if the debacle had occurred. With a small smile he realized that with that last train of thought that he was, in fact, brooding.

The sound of flint against steel and the hiss of flame springing to life was the only warning he had that he was no longer alone. Surprised that he had sensed nothing he turned to the chair in front of his desk to see a dark head bowed to light the cigarette held between smirking lips.

"You know, security around here is lacking," a faintly accented voice said around a cigarette as the lighter was snapped closed and put away.

As the young man raised his head Xavier got a glimpse of deep blue eyes before purple shades obscured his view. Those eyes and the cocky attitude reminded him of one of his early attempts to recruit a student for the Institute.

-x-x-x-

Xavier was in Washington D.C. to keep an eye on the newly formed Senate Committee. One in charge of deciding laws regarding the identification and classification of mutants. The day's meetings had come to a close and he was trying to decide where to have dinner.

Wheeling through downtown was always a pain but doubly so now with the tail end of rush hour traffic bustling around him. Having quite enough of being jostled about he steered himself down an alley to take the back way to one of his favorite diners.

Halfway there, sounds of fighting could be heard over the traffic noise the buildings couldn't muffle. Shouting, screams of pain, and sounds of falling debris heralded from around the next corner.

Xavier surmised it was a turf war among rival gangs. Although it is the nation's capital, D.C. has one of the highest crime rates in the country. He was going to continue on by and take the next turn when the fight was brought to him.

A body went hurtling through the air in front of him. Hitting the wall with the sickening sound of bones crunching, the young man slumped to the ground not moving. Three more bodies tumbled along the ground, groaning as they stood to face the way they had come. One enterprising youth found a discarded beer bottle and charged back into the fray around the corner. He soon found himself next to his unconscious comrade sharing the same fate. The two conscious teens picked themselves up from the ground where they had ducked to miss their flying friend, turned tail and ran away. Xavier's curiosity was caught, he peeked around the corner to watch the rest of the fight.

He could barely believe what his eyes were telling him, until he took into account that the mutant gene must be the determining factor. There were three other bodies to join the tally of the two behind him, scattered along the alleyway. Along with the three inert forms were five people, four surrounding the fifth. The four looked to be street thugs in there mid-to-late teens. The fifth was a child.

Xavier estimated the boy's age to be no older than eight. He stood in the center of the circle of teens as if he had no cares in the world. He wasn't even tensed in defense. The adolescent behind him suddenly attacked. The boy easily ducked under the wild punch and solidly kicked his attacker in the leg, dislocating the knee with a wet pop. Two more came at him before he had even placed his foot back on the ground. He planted his raised foot in the stomach of one and launched himself at the other and tackled him to the ground, bouncing the attacker's head against the pavement. He quickly rose to his feet he came up behind the perpetrator holding his stomach and punched him in the back of the head, downing him for the count. The last standing gang member lifted his hands in the sign of surrender and slowly started to back off. The child snorted, turned, and started to walk away.

Xavier saw the teen pull a knife from behind his back and yelled a warning to the kid. Before the words had completely left his mouth, the boy moved with blurring speed and came up from behind the knife wielder.

"That's not very nice," the chuckle that followed the words sent shivers down Xavier's spine, something sounding that cold should not come from one so young. The boy proceeded to pick the older one up by the neck then fling him almost negligently against the wall behind him, knocking him senseless.

"I didn't need your help," the boy spoke as he bent to retrieve the knife the gang member had dropped from nerveless fingers. Xavier noted that the boy had a slight accent, something European maybe.

"I couldn't just stand by," he explained wheeling further into the alley, surveying the scene. There were six unconscious forms here plus the two in the alley behind him, a teen currently holding his injured knee whimpering, then the two that had fled. He could only shake his head. This mere slip of a boy had taken on eleven others and had come out victorious. Simply amazing.

Xavier came out of his musings when he noticed the boy walking towards the moaning teen holding the knife in his hand. "Stop right there, young man."

"I'm just going to knock him out, he's beginning to bother me," he replied as he reversed the blade and rapped the teen on the temple with the handle, and then threw the knife aside. As he stood he adjusted the purple sunglasses shielding his eyes.

"How were you able to defeat them?" Xavier wanted to determine if the child knew just how special he really was.

"Talent. And training," was the reply.

Perfect, that was exactly the kind of mindset Xavier wanted in his students, the willingness to learn to use and control their abilities.

"I know of a place where other children with talents much like yours learn to develop their abilities--"

"Tch. I highly doubt that. If there was such a place I'd know about it," the boy interrupted crossing his arms over his chest.

This child was stubborn and arrogant. Interesting, though, what he had to say. It made him wonder what other abilities the boy possessed, besides speed and strength.

"Let me show you."

Xavier slowly entered the boy's mind, showing him the Institute and all it had to offer. As he did so he also searched the boy's memories. He learned that his abilities had manifested a few years before, right after his parents had been killed in a car accident. He ran away from the orphanage because the other kids had kept picking on him. He was now living on the streets.

"If you choose to join my school you'll no longer have to worry where your next meal is coming from. You'll have a roof over your head," he would have kept going but the boy had started laughing.

"It's pretty pathetic if all it takes is a sob story, like that one I just created, for you to start blathering on."

"What?"

"Didn't you like that one? How about this instead?"

The vision of the orphanage Xavier had been seeing vanished. In it's place was a memory of the boy playing in a yard when he smelled smoke. When he looked up at his house it was completely ablaze. Xavier heard him calling out to his father and mother. Suddenly the scene shifted, now he saw the child walking with his parents through a busy mall when a crazed gunman burst out of the bank entrance in front of them and opened fire into the crowd, hitting both of his parents. As before, the images shifted, Xavier found himself watching with the boy as his parents boarded a plane. No sooner than it had left the ground it retuned to it in a ball of fire and charred metal. Each 'memory' that followed grew progressively more violent and gruesome.

With another spray of blood and a child's scream it all stopped. He found himself in a black void.

"Was that more entertaining?"

Xavier stared at the boy. How could someone so young have so much control over their own mind, being a mutant notwithstanding. Xavier had to know. He tried to push through the blackness to find the answers.

"I don't think so. You wouldn't like what you'd find."

All of a sudden Xavier was expelled from the youth's mind. The boy had successfully evicted Xavier, no one had ever been able to do that before.

"Where did you learn such control?" Looking at him Xavier saw past the young packaging and found wisdom and knowledge within those blue eyes.

The child hastily pushed the glasses back up his nose. "I'm not like you, Charles. I'm not a mutant. I'm a part of something far older."

"How'd you know my name?"

The boy smiled, "While you were dallying in my mind I dallied in return."

"What do you think you are doing?"

The voice sounded through his head, making him wince. It took him a moment to realize that the female voice had spoken in German.

When the kid answered back in the same language Xavier noticed he wasn't using his mouth, he was doing so telepathically.

"What?" he now sounded like a petulant child.

"You are supposed to be at the museum with your tutor, not divulging secrets to an unknown," the woman's mental voice was sharp with command.

"The museum was boring, Smyth wasn't teaching me anything I didn't already know. And what do you think I am, a rank amateur? I didn't tell him anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." There was a pause, then, "Why are you still linked with him and allowing him to hear us?"

Xavier started at this, he couldn't feel the boy in his mind. Nor did he feel what the woman had done to ascertain this fact.

"I was still looking around. You're the one to barge in and start yelling at me without taking precautions."

Xavier felt more than heard her mental sigh.

"What am I going to do with you child, you vex me every day."

"How about you leave me alone."

"As my grandson and heir, Ban, you know I can't do that."

"Whatever."

"Now get back to the hotel so Smyth will stop calling me. And, Ban, you had better be on your best behavior for the rest of the trip or those mild fantasies you put Mr. Xavier through will be nothing compared to what I will do to you."

She must have left because the boy, Ban, Xavier recalled her using his name, muttered, "Old hag," still in German. He then turned to Xavier and said in English, "Well, I can't say it hasn't been fun." With a wave he vanished leaving Xavier in the alley alone with nine still forms.

-x-x-x-

Now almost ten years later that same boy, older now, sat across from him calming smoking and criticizing his security. Incredible.

Before he could answer back his study door was flung open.

"I smelled smoke--," Logan checked to a halt but upon seeing Ban, and knowing that the professor had no visitors at this time of the evening, attacked immediately with a roar.

Or rather, Xavier amended, tried to. Ban had obviously continued to train. Because now when he moved it was as if he just vanished then reappeared in his current location, behind his attacker, as Logan's claws ripped through the leather of the chair.

Logan stared at where his opponent should have been, writhing in pain and bleeding.

"Not very bright, now are we," Ban taunted.

Logan whirled, slashing at Ban's midsection. Ban dodged without noticeable effort. Logan then lunged, punching at Ban's face. Ban caught his hand before it made contact, his fingers laced around the metal knives protruding from between Logan's knuckles. A faint grin slid across Ban's face as his own knuckles grew white. Logan grunted and slowly went to his knees, his claws retracting into his flesh. He swung at Ban with his left hand connecting with a solid thud. Ban let out a low grunt as his grin turned into a smirk. Ban lifted Logan by his hand and gave him a quick jab to the stomach. Logan growled and kicked Ban in the knee. Ban moved having the blow hit his thigh instead. While Ban redirected the kick, Logan took another swing at Ban's face hoping to catch him off guard. No luck, Ban's forearm met Logan's wrist deflecting the strike. Changing the direction of his fist, Logan aimed for the boy's shoulder. Ban spun away from the man and used his captured hand as leverage to flip behind Logan.

"Professor, what's wrong?" Jean raced into the room, having felt his unease, with Scott close behind. She gasped as she took in the scene, Scott swore softly.

Jean gestured at the ruined chair and it rose from the floor. With flick of her wrist, she sent it soaring at the man holding her teammate captive. Scott put his hand to his visor in preparation. Logan fell to the ground, cradling his hand, as Ban once again moved with his astonishing speed, disappearing from sight.

"Where'd he go?" Scott asked anyone in general.

A plume of smoke from between the couple proceeded Ban's voice, "Behind you, of course."

The chair changed it's trajectory as the pair ducked to opposite sides.

"Jean, Scott, stop. He's not a threat to us," Xavier shouted before Scott could let loose an energy blast. Xavier just hoped he was correct.

Ban easily caught the flying projectile and moved to replace it once more before Xavier's desk. He then leaned against the wall beside the empty fireplace, taking another puff from the cigarette between his lips.

As the three stood Xavier introduced them all.

"Ban this is Logan, Scott, and Jean." Xavier noticed an odd look pass over the boy's face as he studied Jean. "X-men this is Ban. We met about ten years ago in D.C."

Jean smiled tentatively, Scott nodded, and Logan snarled.

Ban just shook his head at Logan and muttered, "Whatever."

Xavier continued, "I was cutting through some alleys to get around the rush hour bustle when I came across Ban here fighting a street gang.'

"Punks were more like it," Ban interjected.

"By the time he was finished nine lay unconscious and the remaining two had run off, without any of them even touching him."

"You fought eleven men and remained unscathed! How old were you?" Jean exclaimed.

"That was late August, right?" Ban asked, Xavier nodded. "I was six."

"Si...what!"

Ban shrugged.

"Why didn't you recruit him, Professor?" Scott asked.

"Because he's not a mutant," Xavier explained

"What? Then how do you explain his abilities?"

Logan stayed silent, glaring at the young man, flexing the hand Ban had held in his grip as if he were still in pain.

Xavier ignored Scott and questioned Logan about the gesture, "Logan is your hand alright?"

"The bones are re-growing around the adamantium and it itches," he answered.

"Around it?" Scott asked.

"I may have bent some of the metal encasing his hand," Ban stated, twisting his cigarette between his fingertips depositing the hot ash into the fireplace and placing the used butt into his pocket.

"What are you?" Scott demanded after he absorbed the fact of what Ban had done.

Ban shrugged again, "Doesn't matter. Let's get down to business."

"I was curious as to why you showed up tonight," Xavier ventured.

"I'm here to deliver a warning--," he was unable to finish due to Logan's harsh accusation.

"You're working for Magneto!" The three tensed.

"Tch. As if."

"Then from whom?" Jean inquired.

"The old hag," Ban answered.

"What's her warning?" Xavier asked ignoring the puzzled looks form his X-men.

"Her exact words are and I quote, 'Old acquaintances have returned for vengeance. Enemies will become allies. Allies will become enemies. There are three paths the near future may harbor. The first, every mutant will perish'," Ban ignored the outraged protests and continued, "'Second, all the humans will die. Or third, both may avert disaster but only through actions of trust.'"

"Are you certain?" Xavier held his hand up to silence his teammates.

"She's never wrong," Ban said.

"May I speak with her?"

"I'll ask, but I doubt she will." Ban's gaze unfocused as he looked over at the opposite wall.

Suddenly the paperweight flew off Xavier's desk, winging straight at the young man's head. Ban's hand blurred as it moved to intercept the object, his gaze never wavering.

Xavier looked sharply at Jean, who had the grace to flush.

"I couldn't resist. I wanted to see how good he is."

They then waited in silence.

Ban came out of his trance with an explosive German oath. Tossing back the paperweight, he said to Xavier, "I swear she does that just to annoy me! Here I am doing her a favor and what do I get? Nothing but slack."

"I remember your grandmother saying that you vexed her daily. Maybe this is her turn at fair play."

"I take it she's not going to talk with the Professor?" Jean concluded.

"No. Damn, hag. She says that's all she can tell you and nothing is going to change that."

"Then why'd she even bother sending you to tell us." Logan asked.

"Duty. She says, 'Fore warned is fore armed.' Besides we're going to be the ones to clean up after you, call it damage control."

"Cleaning up?"

"Damage control?"

"I can't say more," he shook his head then spoke telepathically to Xavier. "There is more I must tell you, but you have to send Red away, Shades too. Claws can stay."

"Jean, Scott, please make a perimeter sweep and check on the children."

"But--,"

"Please," Xavier reiterated.

"Yes, sir," they both replied and left. Too easily, Xavier thought and turned to Ban with a raised eyebrow.

"I just gave them a nudge," Ban said trying to look innocent.

"What was that all about, Xavier," Logan asked perceptively.

"Ban has something he doesn't want those two to hear," he explained. They both turned to the younger man.

"Red…Jean, is one of mine," Ban stated simply.

"Meaning?" Logan growled.

"She's like me. That is why she's so powerful."

"You're sure?" Xavier was stunned to say the least.

"As heir, her blood calls to me."

"Look here, bub, she's not leaving," Logan said through gritted teeth.

"I know. That's one thing the hag was adamant on. However, I now have another warning for you, Charles. You have done her a great harm by locking away her powers," Ban said intently.

"I did what I had to to keep her safe," he answered back just as intently.

Ban rebutted, "You've only delayed the inevitable. You only made it stronger."

"I made her stronger?"

"Not her, per se, but her other self, her darker half," he sighed heavily, "Once we reach Awakening our power matures and we begin our coming-of-age trials. What I'm concerned about is the last trial, where we each have to combat our darker selves, to learn to control it, to tame it. The trials aren't complete until the battle is finished. Normally this part of the trials would be conducted somewhere that she couldn't hurt anyone but my grandmother, in her infinite wisdom, has decreed that she is to remain here until she completes it. A task that is twenty years overdue," he turned to Logan, "That's where you come in, eternal man. You are about as near immortal as I've ever seen and if she fails, you will have to be the one to stop her."

"What?!"

"Her dark half will have the combined powers of her mutant abilities and my bloodline and though she may be strong enough to kill humans and mutants alike, she won't have the necessary knowledge to finish you off," he smirked, "Besides, she has a soft spot for you."

"What can we expect if she fails," Xavier wanted to know.

"Her dark half will have all her memories but none of her personality. It will look out for itself first and foremost. It will be power hungry and not stop for anyone or thing."

"Why can't you stop her? You said it yourself, she's one of yours," Logan protested.

"We must remain neutral, and she is too firmly embroiled in this conflict."

"That's a load of bull and you know it!"

Ban pulled another cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "Yeah, I do know it," he exhaled a lungful of smoke with a sigh. "But there's nothing I can do, if I try anything the hag will just stop me."

"Listen, bub, I would never dream of hurting her!"

"Ha! Dream!" he scoffed, "Let me show you my dreams."

Within a blink of an eye Xavier was no longer in his office but in a strange apartment. The living room was sparsely furnished with bare wood floors.

There was a tall man standing by the blue draped window, dressed in a white shirt and grey slacks.

Ban's voice whispered past his ear, "You think I don't know what it's like to have to kill a friend?"

The man suddenly fell to his knees shuddering. As he toppled to the floor Xavier heard Ban's startled exclamation, "Yamato!"

The man on the floor spoke, "It's finally come for me. Nothing can stop it now!"

Strange, the man was speaking an oriental language but Xavier understood every word. It must have been Ban's doing, he supposed.

Ban stood in the doorway, looking no different than how he did standing in heis office, replied, "Wait there, Yamato, I'll be back." He turned to leave but was quickly brought back around by the man's next words.

"It's no use," the man, Yamato, took a deep breath and rose to his knees to look at Ban before continuing, "I need you to kill me!"

"What?!" Ban had obviously not expected the man to say that.

"Listen, Ban, it's the only way." He reached out beseechingly to the boy, "Do it now, end it for me while I'm still in my right mind!"

When Ban stepped back aghast at the stricken man, he continued to plead, ending in a whisper, "Ban! Ban, please!"

Xavier watched as Ban's arm moved, almost too fast to follow, into Yamato's chest, crushing his heart. As Ban stood staring at his bloodstained hand a young girl came into the room calling cheerfully to the two of them before comprehending the scene before her, then she screamed.

Ban's voice once again ghosted by his ear, "I can still feel his blood on my hand."

With another blink Xavier was back in his office. However, the girl's scream still echoed in his head.

"Just a minute. So did you have a nice dream?" Ban asked sardonically.

"What the hell was that?" Logan shouted.

"One of my talents."

"Was it real?" Xavier asked as Logan calmed down.

"It happened, yes." Ban said flatly. Recently too, Xavier thought, judging by his reaction and by his appearance in the…dream.

"What was happening to him? Was it his darker half?" Although Xavier doubted it, the man looked far too old, but then again so was Jean.

"No, it was something else. Something I can't talk about," his tone brokered no argument.

"And the girl, what became of her?"

Ban smiled thinly, "Oh, she's out for my blood."

"Couldn't you just tell her the truth, that he asked you to do it?" Logan asked.

"She'll find out when the time is right," Ban said and took another drag off his cigarette.

"You know those things will kill you."

"No, unfortunately they won't. Even if I continue smoking 'til I'm a hundred, they'll not effect me." He said staring at the glowing ember.

"Unfortunately?" Xavier didn't like the empty quality in the boy's voice nor his choice of words.

"We are a long lived race, Charles, and unless we are killed suddenly we can prevent most deaths," he chuckled darkly, "Hell, I'm not even sure how old my grandmother really is."

Logan brought the conversation back to the original topic, "If Jean succeeds, then what?"

"If she succeeds, the crone will offer training for her new abilities. Then it will be up to her to decide which set of responsibilities she will pursue, your mutant cause or our mission."

"Can you tell us anything about that?" Xavier asked.

"All I'm permitted," he sneered at the word, "to say is that 'we are guardians trying to keep this world in balance.'"

They then fell silent, each to his own thoughts.

Ban had finished his cigarette before Logan tentatively asked, "You said earlier that Jean wouldn't know how to kill me. Do you?"

"Logan!" Xavier was shocked, he never thought he would hear such defeatism from the proud man.

"Stow it, Xavier, I don't mean now. Maybe when I get tired. The kid understands."

Ban studied the man before softly stating, "Yes."

Logan sighed in relief. A tension Xavier had never realized was present in the man suddenly released. "I know I'm asking a lot, but…will you do it, when the time comes?" He whispered.

Ban nodded gravely and walked to Logan's side. He placed the first two fingers of his left hand against Logan's forehead. "When you feel your time has come call my name," Ban instructed.

He dropped his hand to Logan's, the one he had crushed, and cupped his right beneath it. A faint blue-green light traced the outline of all three hands, Logan gasped slightly but made no move to remove his. When Ban released him, he explained, "The metal is no longer twisted."

Ban then moved to the ruined chair, blocking both Logan and Xavier's view of the damage. When he stepped away moments later the chair back was unblemished. The leather was as smooth as the day he had bought it. Ban turned to the two stunned faces and said, "We are taught to leave no trace of our passings." With a smirk he continued, "Of course that usually includes altering the memories of those who have seen us use our abilities, as I have done with Red and Shades. They will remember nothing of my presence or purpose here."

"Jean's a telepath, won't see be able to just read it in our minds?" Logan asked unconsciously rubbing his now healed hand

"No, I have blocked those memories from others, as I did when I first met Charles. No one will be able to find them, let alone read them. Well, as I said before, I can't say it hasn't been fun."

"Please tell your grandmother thank you for me," Xavier asked.

"If I have any choice I won't be seeing her for a very long time. But I'm sure she knows you're grateful."

"You're not going home?" Logan asked.

Another harsh laugh escaped from Ban's lips, "I have never had a home. To my grandmother I'm nothing more than a pupil. To my people, the heir. There is nothing there for me. I almost had one with Yamato and his sister..." he trailed off despondently. "I think I'm just going to disappear for a while. Take a vacation of sorts."

"If your grandmother is as powerful as you suggest, won't she just find you and drag you back?"

"There is one place where her power can't reach. It's rumored that there are people there who can even match me in battle. It could be interesting."

The vacant, no-one-home look in Ban's eyes and the barely-there grin sent shivers down Xavier's spine. He hoped the boy didn't do anything foolish. Then the moment passed and Ban blinked, refocusing his gaze on his audience.

"Remember the warnings, heed them." A small smile graced his face, "Now it's time to make my escape. Bye." He gave a wave and was gone.

"How? Where?" Logan was at a loss for words.

Xavier shrugged, "He left the same way last time too."

"Do you have any idea as to what he is?"

Xavier mentally ticked off the few things he knew about the mysterious boy. Strong, fast, hard to kill, long lived, lived in secrecy, used abilities he had no explanation for, lived in a hierarchy. He then answered Logan in only half jest, "Maybe an elf."

"A what?!"

Xavier shrugged, "'There is more to heaven and earth.'"

end

another a/n: Thanks to discontinuity and outcastedrogue for reading this and giving me corrections and their thoughts. Feel free to give me yours too.