Title: Lenny Bruce is not afraid.
Series: X-Men Comics.
Rating: T+. Salty language.
Pairing: Various.
Disclaimer: Own nothing.
Notes: I hate X-Factor (first series) 1.
Summary: What if? X-Factor (first series) 1.
---
1:04 a.m. local time.
Silence.
Near total darkness.
Three clicks south and visible only through the use of a high powered scope a single light emanates from a window. It's fluorescent.
Cold. Just like the night. Lying on the nearly frozen ground half burred in brush. F$#ing Anchorage Alaska. It never got this cold back home. Well, if you could call what's left of the reservation home.
The silence is broken by the unmistakable sound of a match strike.
"Creed. Put that F$#ing cigarette out." His voice is quiet but forceful.
"Can't." Creed leans back against a tree taking a long puff on his cigar. "It's a cigar. Cuban. Smuggled at great cost out of Hav--"
"Correction. Put that Cigar out. Or I'll put it out in your eye…" He pauses while toggling the safety on his sidearm. "What's left of it that is…"
"Sure thing boss…" Creed grumbles and complies; staring down the barrel of a Desert Eagle.
"A good sniper can spot a lit cherry from a mile away. We're dealing with one of the best. Which you would know if you read the mission briefing…"
"One of?" A low growl… "You counting yourself Greycrow?"
"Still waiting on word from delta team." He smiles slightly, his eye never leaving the sight. "Of course counting myself."
---
7:55 a.m. local time. United Airlines flight 107. Row 22. Seat A. Approximately one mile above Sudbury Ontario.
She takes a deep breath pulling the thin, nearly useless airline blanket tighter around her. Desperate for any fraction of comfort it might provide.
The three single serving wine bottles that she was able to charm out of the steward lay empty, haphazardly strewn on her tray table, their contents having done little to calm her nerves.
Six more hours.
Six hours and this nightmare will be over. Six more hours…
---
8:16 a.m. local time. Anchorage Alaska. Scott and Madelyne Summers' home.
The unmistakable scent of bacon sizzling greets Scott Summers as he exits the shower. He has a killer headache from the night before. The air is heavy. Smoke. Steam. Both?
After toweling off and changing he heads to the kitchen where the toast is buttered, the coffee brewed, juice poured, bacon ready, his wife Madelyne awaiting.
"How do you want your eggs handsome?" She's leaning against the counter either smiling or trying her damnedest to do so.
"Surprise me?" He knows it's a mistake the moment it comes out of his mouth. He dodges the first egg. The second hits him on the chest and splatters all over his shirt.
She giggles and he can't stop himself from joining her. Little Christopher Charles decides to join in the fun as well from the high chair. Except Christopher laughs so hard that he starts to spit up which, oddly enough, only entertains him further. Maddie rushes to clean him up and burp him just incase.
Scott reaches for a towel but finds himself staring at the little blue teddy bear that Christopher is clutching and flailing around while Maddie tries to clean him up. Tries.
"What's that?" He lifts his shirt to try and keep egg from dripping onto the floor.
"What's what, dear?" Maddie replies while wiping spittle.
"The Teddy bear?" Scott shrugs. "That's new, right?"
"Yeah. I forgot to tell you." Maddie hoists little Christopher into her arms. "When we went to the market yesterday we ran into our new neighbor. Allbury? Ellbury? Blueberry? Something –bury."
"The guy who moved into the old Smith place, just down the road?"
"Exactly." She takes the bear from Christopher and shakes it gently. The Childs face lights up as he reaches out for it. "I guess he's some kind of scientist…" She continues. "Studying endangered species or something. I don't quite remember." Christopher starts flailing near uncontrollably for want of the bear. "Here you go sweetie." She kisses Christopher on the forehead before returning her attention to her husband. Her husband and the makeshift egg bowl he has made of his shirt. "Are you going to clean that up?"
"It can wait." He smiles a bit. "So, you ran into Mr. Boysenberry…"
"Millbury!" She exclaims. "It was Millbury!"
"Okay…" He nods attentively.
"So, Yeah. We ran into the new neighbor and he gave Christopher the little blue teddy bear. He seemed like a nice guy, right Christopher?" She beams at Christopher who is busy waving the bear's arms at his daddy.
"Why would he have a teddy bear at the market… was he waiting for you or--"
"Must you always be so suspicious?" Her smile fades slightly.
"It's not…" He sighs.
"I understand dear…" She leans over and kisses him softly on the cheek. "He did seem excited to meet you."
"Oh?" Scott's eyebrows rise.
"Apparently Dr. Jones told him about how you resurrected his old F-150. He was hoping you could take a look at his Jeep?"
"I guess I could give it a look." He does his best to turn off any irrational paranoia. "It would be… err. Neighborly?"
"Sure Sure. Now go get cleaned up. We've put breakfast off long enough." She bounces Christopher gently with a wink. "Besides I told Mr. Millbury you'd be over at 10:30."
---
10:07 a.m. local time. Anchorage Alaska. Anchorage International Airport.
"Taxi." Her voice is weak. "Taxi…" Freezing. Absolutely freezing. The Steward was nice enough to let her keep the blanket but she was in such a blind hurry that she had completely forgotten a jacket let alone the parka that she needs in the bitter cold.
No matter. She took plenty of money with her when she left New York and once she gets to her destination. Once the nightmare ends there will be plenty of time for a new coat… But more importantly she needs understanding… god help her forgiveness.
She needs…
The taxi driver lays on his horn. She snaps back to attention. She nods, and slips into the car.
"Where to?" The driver asks. His eyes narrow in the rearview mirror.
"Please… turn the heat up…" She weakly reaches forward holding a worn piece of paper. She had spent all night folding and unfolding it, staring at the address written upon it.
---
10:11 a.m. local time. Anchorage Alaska. Scott and Madelyne Summers' home.
"Alright… I Guess I'm on my…" He trails off to the sound of the phone ringing. He was half out the door.
"Scott, can you get that? My hands are a bit full, aren't they Christopher?" Madelyne calls from the kitchen, halfway through a high pressure diaper change.
"Sure sure. Just a sec…" He steps back into the kitchen reaching for the phone.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end is deafening.
"Bobby? Bobby! Bobby. Calm down."
--
New York City. Mount Sinai Medical Center.
"I am calm Scott. Look. Something happened to Warren."
Bobby paced… as much as one can pace while tethered to a phone-booth.
"All I know. Or at least all Hank and I have been able to figure out is… Fine. Fine I'll Slow Down. Damnit Scott Warren is in a F$#ing coma and you want me to Slow Down?"
A loud crashing noise. Bobby shakes out his fist. Punching the side off the privacy wall? Not his best idea.
"Yes. I did say coma. Candy knows. She's on the first flight… All we know is that he flew Worthington industries supersonic jet from Arizona to New York less than an hour after Hank and I left the Aerie for the airport. Apparently he had holed himself up in a luxury hotel. No Visitors. Armed Guards. The works. Scary Stuff."
"Yeah. Hank's there now trying to piece things together, but the guards weren't talking. They found him hanging by a wing off of the fire escape of a building three blocks away. There is a giant hole in the wall of his room and a pretty deep impact crater on the other side."
"Yeah. Jesus TAP DANCING Christ."
"No, no. Just thought you needed to know. Hank and I are going to keep checking it out."
"As soon as we know something else, we'll let you know… Send my love to Maddie and the kid. Right. Bye."
--
Anchorage Alaska. Scott and Madelyne Summers' home.
The phone is placed back onto the cradle.
"Scott?" Maddie places Christopher securely in his high chair.
Silence.
"Scott, what's wrong." She reaches over laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Warren." He turns his head towards her.
"What about Warren?"
"He's in a coma… Bobby doesn't know what happened, but…"
"Shhhh…" She wraps her arms around him. "It's okay."
"They found him hanging by his wings on a fire escape." His voice slips into his commander tone.
"Oh god."
"… Yeah. He was attacked. No idea by who or why."
"Do you need to--"
"No… No. Bobby and Hank are checking it out. They'll let me know if anything is up…"
"Scott. If you'd like I can call Mr. Millbury and cancel?" She asks, tightening her hold.
"It's alright… it will be a good distraction."
"Scott--" He cuts her off with a soft kiss.
"I should head out."
"Yeah…" She lets him go. "You know, we have that delivery to Toronto this weekend. We might be able sell the Leaf's tickets, pull some strings and get a delivery to New York City?"
"… Let's talk about it later."
"Sure… Sure."
"Okay." Another kiss. Deeper this time. "I'll be back soon. I'm just going to take a quick look and head home, alright?"
"Be careful on the road." She sighs softly.
"Always. Love you red." He forces a smile.
"Love you too hotshot." She returns the favor. Picking baby Christopher back up she watches Scott head down the driveway to the car carrying his old toolbox.
---
10:24 a.m. local time. Anchorage Alaska. Three clicks north of Scott and Madelyne Summers' home.
"Here we go…" John Greycrow smiles a bit. The radio cracks as he opens the channel. "Beta team, Delta team. The eagle has left the nest. Prepare for the operation. Awaiting word from base."
"'Scalphunter.' Why am I stuck here in the crows nest with you instead of getting some real action?" Creed asked with a growl.
"You've proven to be a valuable asset 'Sabertooth' but the boss doesn't want more blood than needed to be shed on this operation."
---
3:28 pm local time. New York, New York. Waldorf Astoria hotel.
It took skill… skill and abusing his position as a former Avenger. But eventually Hank McCoy convinced the hotel and the NYPD to let him take a look around Warren's suite. The reality of the giant hole in the wall snapping him out of any daydream he may have been having about Warren's lifestyle.
It was strange to say the least. No other signs of struggle besides the giant hole. The suite had three bedrooms. Nothing seemed out of place in the first. Nothing out of place except all of the women's clothing in the closet. The vast majority of the items still tagged. He started to dread the forthcoming conversation with the fair Ms Southern.
The second bedroom was completely empty. Nothing out of place… Likely that it simply wasn't being used.
The third, curiously, appears to have been converted into an office. Worthington industries paperwork is strewn about a desk. The room had been turned upside down by the police. The bottom right drawer was slightly open, and though he was instructed not to "mess with the crime scene" he couldn't help but look.
Again, nothing unreasonable or incriminating was to be found in the drawer. He wouldn't have expected any less from the NYPD. However he accidentally pulled the drawer all the way out of the desk and dropped it but six inches. The fake bottom revealed itself. He reaches in pulling out a small leather bound book. Flipping through the pages he notices that it's an address book.
But why was it hidden?
The million dollar answer reveals itself. A page in the "S's" had been torn out.
He sprints from the room desperate to find a phone.
---
10:41 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. Mr. Millbury's driveway.
"Plugs look clean." Scott states after unscrewing the top of the fuel injector assembly. "Fuses were good too." He pops his head out from under the hood and turns to his host standing just beside him. Full mustache and trucker hat, not quite what you'd expect from a scientist. Though in Alaska he may just be trying to fit in. "Okay Mr. Millbury, Try to turn the engine over and give it some gas. I want to see if any fuel is getting to the sparkplugs."
"Please… Scott. Call me Mike."
Mike Millbury. There was something familiar about this guy. Something… off as well. Scott's mind however is preoccupied with the fate of his oldest friend and rival in New York. Who could have… Why would… What was…
Gears grind.
"Anything?!" Mike's call snaps him out of his daze.
"No. Dry as a bone. Must be a problem with the fuel line… do you have a floor jack?"
"Think so… Maybe in the garage. Let me take a look." Mike pauses then smiles at him. "You know I can't thank you enough for coming over. It's quite helpful."
"Happy to help." Scott replies. Something about that smile disturbs him, but again, he's more concerned with other issues.
He will come to regret the lapse.
"Okay… Lets see here…" After jacking the car up he slides underneath." Wow. It looks like someone went to town on the underside with an axe."
"An energy harpoon actually." Mike replies… his voice much colder than before… He rounds the truck to the jack.
"What do you- -" Scott is interrupted by the full weight of the truck crashing down onto his chest. It pinned him to the ground, perhaps breaking some ribs as well.
"Oh my dear, dear Scott…" Mike fiddles with his watch; a blue light starts to emanate from its face.
The words… the voice… the… memories. It's all coming together.
"Far too trusting… Must be Charles' influence. You certainly didn't learn that from me…"
Those? The last words Scott hears before passing out.
---
10:42 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. Three clicks north of the Summers' home.
"Shit! Problem." John scrambles to open radio communication. "Beta team, Delta team, Sinister. We have lost full containment."
"What's that…?" Creed's eyes focus on the distance, he tries to make it out without the help of binoculars. "Is that a Taxi?"
---
10:43 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. Inside the Summers' home.
"Feeling better Christopher?" Maddie beams at little Christopher who had just, finally, calmed down from the excitement of this morning. He rewards her with a giggle and a bop in the face with his new teddy bear.
Again, the telephone rang out. She leans over the highchair and kisses Christopher on the forehead before heading for the telephone.
Three steps away from the telephone the doorbell rings.
Christopher starts crying.
Madelyne stops herself. She takes a moment to take a deep breath, and then heads back to the high chair to pick Christopher up. "If it's important they'll call back." She tells Christopher while jollying him. Baby in hand she heads for the front door where the doorbell is impatiently rung again.
The phone keeps ringing.
The teddy bear starts to glow blue.
---
10:43 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. The Summers' driveway.
Calm down Jean… You're here. You're finally here…
Her thoughts were racing. It's almost over. She strides up the driveway. Smiling. For the first time in the last three weeks she is actually smiling.
He's here. This is the address, the cabbie swears by it. On the other side of that door…
Everything is going to be alright. He'll throw his arms around her. The nightmare will end. He'll understand. In time even Warren will understand. He was lying to her… Trying to keep her from him…
Everything will be perfect…
Excited nearly to the point of tears she reaches out and touches the doorbell.
A moment passes and she impatiently taps the button again… and again…
---
10:44:07 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. Mike Millbury's driveway.
'Millbury' opens radio communication.
"Do it now."
---
10:44:10 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. Three clicks north of The Summers' home.
"Roger."
John Greycrow's fingers deftly flip open the protective cap on a radio detonator.
---
10:44:15 a.m. New York City. The Waldorf Astoria Hotel.
Henry McCoy slams the payphone receiver down onto the cradle nearly tearing the entire phone assembly off of the wall.
---
10:44:20 a.m. Anchorage Alaska. The Summers' front door.
"Hold on… Hold on…" Madelyne complains as she reaches for the doorknob with the arm that isn't cradling Christopher. While opening the door she notices that the little teddy bear has started to glow a dim blue.
"Scott?!" Her guest exclaims while the door opened.
Their eyes meet.
Three kilometers away a button is pressed.
And the world, as we know it, ends.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
(asitiswhenitwas)
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