Disclaimer: The X-Men and all the other characters mentioned within the story belong to Marvel Comics - not the author - and are used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit of this work of fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1

Here comes tomorrow

It looks like the future's really bright.

~ Michael P. Anderson ~

I wake up as I feel a sunbeam tickling my eyelids. Soft, warm - it feels like the sun is gently patting my face through the window. It's cozy under the blue satin covers of my bed and I decide to stay in bed for a little longer. I don't have anywhere to be today, so I tell myself that I have plenty of time to do so. Nonchalantly I fold my arms behind my head and a smile flits across my face, but I keep my eyes closed. I'm happy to be back together with the X-Men. Or more specifically: I'm happy to be finally with the X-Men. I mean full time, 24/7. I'm no longer on my own in my penthouse apartment up in New York, moping around while my father tries everything possible to find an inoculation to suppress the X-Gene and to finally eradicate our 'disease'.

That's ridiculous. How many years have I actually spent with pitying myself and believing I was a freak just because my father made me feel that way? The answer is: way too long. But I stopped and I developed a different point of view. Charles Xavier played a huge role in helping me finding my way and I'm really thankful for that. He was the one to show me that my mutation is no curse but rather a gift. A gift that allows me to help other people. And that's what I have always wanted. My father, however, is the complete opposite of that. It has always been his thought to 'help' me to live a normal life, not mine. He kept me secret from public ever since the day my wings started growing out of my back just to spare himself from embarrassment – he didn't want anybody to know that he, the great Warren Worthington II. , has a mutant for a son. And if you're wondering, - yes - I bear the same name as my father. He egoistic and selfish enough to give me exactly the same name he has. Call it a family tradition: His father's name was Warren Worthington I. . I wonder how long this pass-down-the-father's name-to-his-son-tradition will continue in our family and how many Warren Worthingtons there will be in the end. If I'll ever have a son, he will probably expect me to name him Warren Worthington IV. . Yeah, that's not going to happen though. I'll break this damn tradition. There's no way I'm going to honor my father.

A few years ago my father even incorporated a company for our family fortune's sake to find a so-called 'cure' for my mutation. He would have done anything to 'heal' me. He spent so much money on the best doctors and scientists. But in fact, it was always about him and hisreputation – never about actually helping me. And after all these years, after all this time I acquiesced in his doing, he eventually had to pay for that.

Archangel made him pay for that.

But I am no longer Archangel.

Just thinking of that makes me shiver again. I slightly open my eyes but squint as I look directly into the sun that has climbed its way up into the sky outside my window and now brightly lights up the room. I manage to sit up in my bed and stare out of the window for a few seconds. So many things have changed during the past six months. First, my whole life had been turned upside down. Then shaken around, squashed and crumpled up before finally slowly being put back together again with the help of my friends here.

I shake off old memories and get out of my bed. Then I take a few minutes to shower and to get dressed in casual fair: a pair of jeans and a plain dark blue T-shirt with slashes at the back. There is no need to dress up fashionably today.

I take a look at me in the mirror. I see my white wings and stretch them to their full length. After sleeping for so long, they now feel sore. I realize that I look more self-confident with my wings stretched out. Stronger. I take a deep breath. Then I look over my right shoulder and stroke some of the soft feathers with my hand. I sigh contently, happy with the fact that I have them back and no longer those metal wings Essex gave me after my damaged wings were cut off. I can call myself more than lucky that they grew back. And above all, I'm really grateful that I don't have to hide them under that heavy brown overcoat any longer. I don't have to hide anything when I'm around here. I finally get to be my true self. And everyone here accepts me as I am.

I pull the pale skin of my lower arm and take another brief look in the mirror. Luckily my skin possesses its normal color again. I no longer look like I have been dipped into a vat of blue dye. Instead my skin color is a normal, healthy peach.

But most importantly, I'm no longer Archangel. My mind is no longer controlled by Sinister. I'm finally free. Free like a bird.

I shake my head lightly to clear my thoughts. 'What am I going to do today?', I ask myself in order to think of something else and make some plans for the day. I can't think of anything that isn't too boring or that I haven't been doing for the last days. I've only been reunited with the X-Men for a week now. And the last couple of days I've mostly spent in my bed reading boring books and watching lame TV shows. The others won't let me do anything else yet because they think I need some more time to recover on coping with the incidents that happened to me during the past months. Storm's words – not mine. Maybe they are even planning on some counseling to make sure I don't go insane. So, I might have to correct myself: I'm actually not that free. Not yet. But at least I'm no longer around my father, nor Sinister. So that could probably be considered as freedom, I guess.

Storm really should stop worrying about me because I, myself, actually feel fine. At least good enough to walk around a bit and to make myself useful. I'm thinking of taking an hour later just to 'fly around the block'. I'm already starting to feel sick for staying too long on the ground. I always happen to feel sick when I spend several days in a row on the ground not using my wings at all. I feel free when I'm up in the air. If I'm grounded for too long, I get the feeling that I'm going to explode. The same feeling a caged bird perhaps has.

I turn to my right and take another longing look out of the window before I leave my room to find something to occupy myself. On my way through the hallway I encounter Storm. I'm more than happy to see her around. A little company was way overdue.

"Wonderful morning, isn't it?", I greet her with a bright smile on my face.

"Warren. Oh, you're out of bed?", Ororo frowns and puts on a concerned facial expression, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

I laugh her concern off: "Ororo. Look at me. I'm fine! Staying in this room any longer will push me over the edge!"

"You don't like your room? You can move to a different one if you –".

"No -", I stop Ororo in midsentence and shake my head disagreeing. "My room is fine", I start again, "I just don't want to stay in bed all day any longer. I want to do something again! Make myself useful here at the institute…"

Ororo steps forward to touch my arm gently. "Warren, …", she still has that worried look on her face, "… why don't you give yourself a few more days to fully recover and –"
"I am fully recovered", I break in, "Ororo, I'm fine. Just …", I sigh, "please…don't let me sit in that room all day. Give me something to do or I'll go insane. I'm being serious. It doesn't even have to be that much of a big thing; just a teeny-weeny assignment would satisfy me." I try to look at her puppy-eyed - hopeful she will give in.

Ororo scrutinizes me but gives in after a few seconds: "Okay, fine. You win". I smile at her - probably as bright as a little kid that has just unwrapped its Christmas presents.

"But first go and have some breakfast."

"Fine, Mom", I say provocatively as I walk past her. I can't hold a laugh back as I walk down the corridor. I descend the large wooden stairs and glance around the grand hallway. The walls are nice and high. They finally seem to fill the campus. The institute was rebuilt a few months ago after it was destroyed in the blast about eighteen months ago. My dear father was the one to make that possible with a major investment. Can you actually believe that?
He had no idea he was investing in a school for young mutants though. I left him under the impression that this was just a regular prep school at that time. I don't even care if he knows what is really going on in the institute by now. I'll refuse to talk to him if he comes to see me here. Now – can somebody please get these thoughts about my reputation-caring father out of my head?

Maybe I'll stop thinking about it if I bash my head against a wall. I really want to dash my head against a wall. Thinking about my father and the past incidents gives me headaches. Nah, that's not that much of an alternative. I have to find another way to take my mind off things. I wish I could just forget about the whole thing.

As soon as I reach the last step Jean comes around the corner and I freeze in my motion. Jean – we always used to be quite good friends I remember. But that was a long time ago. Things around here changed. We both changed. I don't know how to handle the situation. How am I supposed to react right now? I mean I can't just pretend nothing has happened, can I? After all I was the one to turn her in to Sinister. Archangel turned her in. And not only her – I turned in Scott, too. That's at least what Storm told me last night. I myself can't remember much about it. I wasn't myself at that time. Sinister was in control of my mind. Ororo tried to break me the story all gingerly and gently but still…if you look at it that way…I backstabbed my friends. And that becomes clear to me at this very moment. I notice Jean chocking her eyebrows.

"Warren…? Are you…are you…alright?", she asks cautiously.

"Ahh….", I'm puzzled. I don't know what to answer. She doesn't seem to be angry at all. Her voice sounds soft and understanding like I remember it. I realize that I haven't said a word to her for almost two years. After the explosion we all thought she was…dead. And during the last week I've been at the institute I haven't had the chance yet.

"Warren…?", she asks again. This time she sounds almost a bit insecure.

Warren! Get ahold of yourself and say something!

"Uhhmm, I'm sorry, Jean…I", I raise my arm and lightly put pressure on my left temple while I try to find the right words. Then I slightly shake my head. Everything is just going wrong.

"Is everything alright?", she asks again, "Do you…do you have a headache?"

"No it's just…I'm fine…I mean…I…I…", I stammer while I try to shirk from her look. I can't even look her in the eye.

"Jean…", I start again,"…I never meant to...I mean, I'm really sorry for the things Archangel did to you – the things I did to you", I correct myself.

"Don't blame yourself, Warren."

"I do blame myself. I should blame myself", I say now with a loud and confident voice. Internally I'm despairing though.

"You really should not blame yourself. I mean, it's not even your fault that –"

"It is my fault", I interrupt her, "I should have never gone there. They grew back. There was no need to worry", I turn my head to catch a brief look at my wings. After a short pause I continue speaking: "I should have been more patient. I should have waited to let Hank do some research on it", my voice is now calmer, "I shouldn't have run off directly to Sinister".

"You were despairing. I probably would have done the same if I had lost all my powers and Sinister made me such a compelling offer", Jean says trying to justify my – Archangel's – deeds.

I shake off her words: "Don't be ridiculous. You would have never done something like that. You know Essex – you know that he is capable of putting chips in our heads to control us. You would still have reacted sensible in a situation like that".

"What you did is all legitimate. You lost your wings. Your power. That's what makes us mutants. Our powers are all our pride. Who of us wouldn't have been desperate in a situation like that?"

"But quite contrary to me you all have enough common sense to not run off to Sinister."

Jean sights and shakes her head.

Silence.

After a few seconds Jean tries again: "Warren, you know I'm right. You should not blame yourself…and no, I'm not angry. Don't worry about it. There is no need to feel guilty."

Telepath.

Goddamn Telepath.
She read my thoughts – obviously – because her being angry and me feeling guilty was exactly what I was doggedly thinking about.

"Jean, get out of my head", I say sternly. I don't like people entering my mind without permission. Not even Jean – even though I know that her intentions are all good. I'm sure she really wants to help me to get over it and get on with my life but still...that doesn't give her the right to enter my mind, does it?

What are these telepaths actually thinking nowadays? They can't just enter peoples' minds whenever they want without permission.

"I'm not even reading your thoughts. It's called knowledge of human nature." Jean puts on an innocent smile.

Liar! I have enough 'knowledge of human nature' and I don't need to be a telepath to know that she is lying.

Jean starts laughing.

See? She must have been reading my thoughts. Why would she be laughing otherwise?

I cross my arms on my chest and give her a disapproving look. Then I join in laughing.

Good old times….

"Anyways, -", I compose myself, "I was just about to have some breakfast. You wanna come?"

Jean frowns but she still is smiling: "Warren? Have you even had a look at a clock yet? It's almost lunchtime!", she starts laughing again.

"Oh, well…", I look at her in embarrassment and run my fingers through my blond hair. I seriously didn't know that it already was that late. I mean Ororo was talking about 'having breakfast', so I thought …-

"… I guess I'm gonna have some brunch then", I complete my sentence and shrug.

Jean lets out a laugh, then looks me right in the eye – more serious than before but she's still smiling in a friendly manner. "It's good to see you are the old Warren again. We are glad to have you back at the institute".

"I'm glad you're back, too. I never thought that we would … ever see you again after the blast, you know?", I sight, "I'm glad the Phoenix force is finally under control."

"At least I hope it is. It's not taking control of me any longer at least. Do you know that Emma –?"

"Yeah, Ororo told me 'bout it", I break in.

You should know Miss Frost sacrificed herself to stop the Phoenix force from taking over Jean's body after she turned Jean in to the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club. But she was more damage than good to the team. She betrayed the X-Men and earned her place on the team by finding Professor X on the coastline of Genosha after placing his unconscious body there. Because of her the professor still is in a coma but we're able to talk to him and he will somehow answer us from the future with the help of Cerebro.

But let's get back to Emma Frost – so during the few weeks she was on the team she schemed against the X-Men several times by making all of us think she was on our side fighting for mutant kind. None of us knew that she herself was a member of Sebastian Shaw's Inner Circle. To sum it up real quick, she got all the information she needed and access to Cerebro by pretending to be one of us and later basically kidnapped Jean on behalf of Shaw, so he could…. To be honest, I don't really know what he intended to do with her. Had something to do with the Phoenix, I guess.

After all, I must admit, that's one hell of a strategy. Credits to Frost.

Maybe Logan was right – he doubted her reliability from the very first second when she appeared at the institute's entrance. At this point we had no clue that she was behind Jean's psychic attack that caused the explosion. Man, and I was the one to encourage Logan in giving her a chance. Was I out of my mind? I was probably hypnotized that moment. Damn telepaths.

After this moment of silence Jean is the first to speak again: "I better go. Scott told me he needed help on making all the plans. You know we are going to reopen the school again in a few days. There is still a lot to plan and so many things to settle…"

"Oh, of course. You better get going then…", I say a bit disappointed she can't keep me company any longer.

"So, I guess I'll see you around", she says as she starts walking up the stairs to look for Scott.

"Yeah, see you later…", I sight and leave for the kitchen.

As soon as I've made myself a sandwich Logan enters the room. He walks past me and all he says in an unimpressed tone is: "Warren".

It's impossible for me to read his facial expression.

"Logan", is all I answer in exactly the same tone. What else am I supposed to say? I stare after him and frown as he opens the grand glass door to step onto the terrace. What was that just about? I remind myself that that's just Logan's way – he always acts like that. He doesn't even need a reason to be in a bad mood.

I take my sandwich with me outside as I decide to go after him to conduct a decent conversation. Logan is smoking a cigarette on the terrace when I step out.
"So, any news about future plans for the institute?", I ask when stepping behind him. Logan's still leading the X-Men. Alongside of Scott Summers. They decided a few months ago that it would be better to have a leader by proxy just in case Logan…scoots off again.

Wolverine and Cyclops. Bad match. The two guys on this team that seem to hate each other like poison. I don't want to put a question mark over their leadership skills – they are both great leaders indeed – but they just don't work together very well. Most of the time they are arguing but well, they still follow the same aims at least. The reason of their fights goes much deeper. But that's just another story that belongs to the past. I don't know much about it and it's none of my business anyway. All I can tell is that it was about Jean, Scott's wife. He keeps on saying Logan tried to steel her from him since the very first moment they met him. But like I said:

That's not my affair.

Logan inhales another puff before he answers my question: "You gotta ask Summers 'bout that."

I nod my head. "Well, it's great to see that you are still highly motivated!", I counter mockingly.

Logan lets out a laugh that more likely sounds like a snort.

I take a bite of my sandwich and chew quietly. Logan doesn't say anything either.

After a few moments he is the one to break the silence: "I'm not sure if I'm suitable for this job. I feel like I ain't up to this."

"Logan, you have shown that you are a good leader. You made the right decisions. Xavier couldn't have made better ones. You showed that you have the skills to lead the X-Men", I tell him confidently, hopeful it will make him feel a little bit better about himself.

"Well, I think you are the only one here with that opinion. The others don't really seem to share it", Logan answers while gazing into the distance.

"Storm does, and I'm sure the others do - …"

"Ororo's always optimistic. About everything and everyone. She believes that in every human being beats a heart of gold", he looks at me reproachfully and folds his arms.

"Okay, maybe you are right about her always being optimistic but that isn't a bad nature, is it? And I think I can speak for Storm that we have the same point of view concerning your leadership skills."

"Fine. I got the message. You and Storm. That makes two. Great. I might as well end it right now. But hell, I can't."

He sights and leans onto the railing of the terrace. Then there is a long silence. I grope for words while I finish my sandwich quietly. After what seemed like an eternity I finally break the silence:

"You know you are backed up by friends here."

Logan suddenly turns around to go back inside. While leaving he mutters something that sounds like an "I'll have to think that through" to me. I stand there baffled for a second before I follow him.

"Logan! Wait!", I shout, but Logan is already on his way to the garage - probably to get his bike.

I chase after him while I try my best to stop him from leaving by appealing through his conscious with emphasis:

"Logan! Listen! You cannot leave us right now! Not in times like these. We need you here and you promised the professor –"

"Get outta my way, Warren!", he yells at me as I block his pathway.

"What kind of role model are you when you take every chance to bolt whenever a problem gets in your way, huh?", I shout at him in anger.

"Safe your pretty face and get outta my way, bub!", Logan growls and six adamantine claws push out of the back of his hands, "I don't have an issue with using them".

I shiver at the sound of grinding metal and put up both my hands in defense.
"I don't want to start a fight, Logan", I try to call his temper down, "All I'm saying is that you and Scott should have a talk."

"Summers and I have nothin' to talk about", Logan mutters.

I put down my arms again.

"You do. And you know that. You act like a child. Both of you do and it's nothing but ridiculous. Act your age and get over your difficulties!", I scream at Logan at the top of my voice.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I startle as a new voice arrives on the scene. Logan pulls in his metal claws.

Then he slowly turns around in annoyance and crosses his arm's recognizing it is Emma Frost who appeared just behind him.

"Are you now pulling in your horn's, Logan?", she comments mockingly on Logan retracting his claws.
"What do you want, Frost?", he snarls.

"Well, it was impossible to not overhear your noisy altercation so I decided to have a look at whatever is wrong", she answers flatly and reflects his movement by crossing her arms as well.

Logan's eyes narrow. "We don't need ya to butt in, Frost. We can clear this up on our own."

"Are you really sure about that? This looked like a heated argument to me and if I understood correctly, you, Logan, were threatening our poor little Angel", she now points in my direction, "to tear him limb from limb".

Logan lets out a deep growl in response and turns around in anger. I still stand in the doorway of the garage – bewildered - as Logan passes me and leaves for his bike. When I already described him being angry before, he now seems to be hopping mad. Almost going up the walls.

After a few seconds I finally disentangle myself from my frozen state in which I was staring after Logan as he storms out and shout his name in a tone that expresses annoyance and desperation at the same time: "Logan!"

"Forget it. Let him go. Let him go on his own road to hell. He is such a bloody-minded animal", the woman completely dressed in white retorts and I turn around to face her.

"An animal void of humor", she adds and sighs. I'm too baffled to respond a word.

Then we hear the huge metal gate of the garage being pulled up automatically and Logan starting his machine. Neither of us says anything for a few seconds while we listen the sound of the motor slowly die away as Logan leaves the campus of the huge mansion and eventually pulls away.

Then there is a moment of utter silence. Not one of these silences when you get the chance to take a deep breath to relax but rather an awkward silence that makes you feel uncomfortable. Tensed I look at Emma and eye her up: Fair skin, platinum blond hair that slightly reaches over her shoulders, white high heels that look anything but comfortable to me. To be honest, I have never seen her without heels before and dressed in anything that wasn't white. I wonder whether she keeps anything in her wardrobe that doesn't have the color white.

Suddenly I realize her staring at me with narrowed eyes. As I shake my head lightly to bring myself back down to earth she raises an eyebrow. I wonder how long I've just stood here sizing her up. Well, now she is the one to eye me up suspiciously. She grabs her hip and her face returns to that flat facial expression that is totally unreadable. I have not even the smallest clue what she is thinking at that moment. But for sure she knows what I am thinking at the moment. Another damn telepath.

I hope she got that one.

Not even a second later her lips curve up to what could be called a small smirk. A cold one – but she was definitely laughing on the inside.

"So, Warren", she starts slowly, "you're back with the X-Men?"

"Obviously. And so are you, I guess."

"To be precise, I was never gone."

"Yeah? Well, as far as I heard you seemed to never really be with us."

"You?", she lets out a small laugh as the left edge of her mouth twitches a little up. Then she tilts her head slightly to the left. "Hmm, let me think about that…", she pauses for a moment and then continues speaking, "As far as I remember…the last time I saw you…you were after us. You, our beloved Angel, were trying to kill us – not only me but also Scott and poor little innocent Jean." One could totally tell that she thought poorly of Jean.

"I wasn't in control of my mind. I was obeying orders. You know that!", my voice is rising again. Our conversation is getting tempter by every second. And that all because of her sarcastic remarks.

"No need to get mad all of sudden, darling. Nobody here is going to harm you", there was a short pause before she continued, "Anyways, none of our tiresome X-friends would ever dare to muster any hostility towards a fallen Angel, would they? Hmm?". A smirk rises on her lips, twisting her face into a malicious smile. I raise my wings, angered, and spread them slightly. "I'm. Not. Broken.", I bite out, rage coloring my words red. A cruel smile slashes her face. "Tut-tut-tut.", she says condescending. "No need to be rude, darling. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" Then with a swish of her hair, and the turning of her hips, she elegantly strides up the stairs.

Leaving behind a fuming angel.

Author's Note:

Bright and shiny! That's what the X-Men are hoping the future is like - but is that really what future will be offering them? We'll have to wait and see how it develops...

First of all, I want to thank my great beta-reader A Rabid Fan for helping me to improve the story. You are great! Thanks to you the first chapter turned out the best it could have.

So, this is my first fanfic and this is just the first chapter and so the beginning of the story. Feel free to review. That would help me a lot since I'm not really sure yet if this fanfic is interesting enough to continue and if you guys out there actually want to read about something like a second season of Wolverine and the X-Men based on some events that actually happened in the original comics mixed with some completely new ideas.

After watching the first season (it was sooo great! Why did they cancel it?!) I was so disappointed they didn't broadcast the second season they'd actually planned (I'm still kinda crying about that). So I thought to myself: 'Why not think of a possible sequel on your own - with just a little imagination it could work - and write a fanfic about it?

So this fanfic is supposed to tie on to the first season. Well, sort of. Like I said, I'm trying my best to mix it with some comic AUs and my own imagination. I might also bring up some new pairings. I'm not sure yet – but like I said before: We'll have to wait and see how it , I would love to hear what you think about that, so please review! :) Any first impressions? I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!

And I forgot to mention: This fanfic is written from Warren's POV (as you probably already noticed if you read the first chapter) since he is one of my favorite characters and I just love to write about his background story and his development from Angel to Archangel back to Angel. So I thought it would be kinda fun :) I hope you like it and don't expect too much from me because as I already mentioned: this is my first fanfic and I'm not that experienced yet...

Em