LeoN: the events of this FanFic take place after 'Phoenix: Warsong'. The characters Marvel (Andy Frost), Chronic (Michelle Alvarez), and Mimicry (Tom Harris), are of my own creation. I do not own any of the others. I hope you like!
Frost
***BEAST***
The X-Man known as Beast woke with a start and frowned as he looked around; trying to figure out what had woken him. After a minute or so he was about to go back to sleep when he heard a telepathic whisper, Hank, I need you in the medical wing.
"Emma?" Hank asked.
Hurry Hank, the voice in his head stressed.
Pulling on a shirt he bounded from his room and down the stairs to the Medical Wing of Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning. He knew that the telepathic summons wasn't from Emma Frost, the X-Men's resident telepath, or from any of the telepaths in residence that he'd worked with. As he moved he sent a warning to Emma, waking her from a dead sleep.
When he arrived he found a blond man he'd never seen before tending a red haired woman who was equally unfamiliar. The blond was wearing a white costume with blue and gold accents, the collar folded around his neck looked like it could be pulled up over his face. The redhead wore a green and gold costume, not dissimilar from Jean Gray's original costume. Looking over his shoulder the blond man started talking fast about the patient's condition, and the X-Man known as Beast stepped up to take a look.
Covered in blue fur, with clawed fingers and toes and a face like a predatory cat, Henry 'Hank' McCoy physically resembled the monster his moniker implied. Beneath the brutish form, however, was one of the most brilliant minds of his time.
Dr. McCoy listened to the prognosis carefully before replying, "It sounds as though she pushed her Mutant Power too hard. What is the nature of her ability?"
"Psychic control of temporal forces, to include the reversal of time," the man explained. "She's called Chronic, and I should warn you that she was a member of the Brotherhood of Mutants."
"So, you are claiming to be Time Travelers?"
"Yes," the man replied. "I'm called Marvel, and believe it or not I'm from a point in time approximately 20 years in your future."
"So what needs fixing now?" a woman's voice broke in. Emma Frost, co-Headmaster of the Institute entered wearing her usual ensemble of tight white pants and an x-shaped top with a cape. With her blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, white lipstick and eye liner, she looked severe.
Emma went on, "Have you come back in time to stop Apocalypse, or warn us about the O*N*E, or is there some megalomaniac out to kill this generation of X-Men so we can't teach you?"
Evenly, Marvel answered, "No, no, and not quite. A month ago I led a group of X-Men against the Brotherhood. Among my group was a student called Mimicry – able to copy the powers of other mutants. Chronic taunted him about going back in time and changing things. About a week ago Mimicry went to visit her in the Super-Max and disappeared. Chronic and I believe that he's come back to this time to alter certain events."
"What kind of events?"
"His mother's internship being canceled, his father being laid off, and he may try to go after the man who kills his parents, among others. Lastly we're fairly certain that he'll try to kill me," Marvel concluded.
"Why you?" Beast wondered as he pulled back the girl's eyelids to check for pupil dilation.
"I'm the Headmaster of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, and I've had to be hard on him at times. The kid has the potential to be the greatest X-Man ever, but he has no imagination and tends to bully the other kids. He feels that I've been holding him back."
"Have you been?" Emma asked.
"That's rich, coming from you, Emma," the man replied. "He's 15 years old and likes to pick fights with other Training Squads. Of course I've been holding him back, but he lost the Captaincy of his Training Squad on his own, and he never combines powers on his own unless you point it out to him."
"If he's such a bother why did you include him on your X-Team to bring down the Brotherhood?" Hank inquired as he finished checking on Chronic.
"He's the only one that can counter Chronic's power to control time. She can slow time around herself so that it seems like she has super speed, but Mimicry can copy her mutant signature so that he stays at the same speed she does. He kept her from beating the crap out of the rest of the team."
An X on the back of his glove began to flash and pressing it caused a display to appear in mid air, a highly advanced technology but not proof of time travel. "All the school uniforms include a GPS tracker; Mimicry is in Orange County, California. I need to get there before he starts trying to track down his first target."
"What," Emma remarked, testily, "You expect us to just give you an X-Jet?"
"Emma, you really should drop the attitude. What exactly is your problem with me?" Marvel demanded.
"My problem is that your mind is cloaked by an artificial psi-shield, so I can't confirm your story. I can sense holes in your shielding that you've plugged up with natural mind blocks. What are you trying to hide, Marvel?"
"Look, I understand that you are suspicious of me. Rachel, Nathan, Lucas; they all came back with warnings about dangers to Mutants. The fact is my future isn't bad. Mutants are on the rise and our relations with normal humans are getting better every year. However; the more you know about the future, the less likely it is to occur. My even coming back to this time puts everything I know in jeopardy. So, no, I won't let you into my mind, and I would take it as a kindness if you wouldn't question Chronic when she wakes up."
"Marvel," Hank commented, "This woman is in a coma from pushing her power too hard and too far, at your request so you claim. What makes you think she'll wake any time soon?"
"Because, the longer she's out the longer I'm stuck in this time period," the man explained. Going on he added, "The longer I'm stuck in this time period the more contaminated it becomes, and if there is too much damage then my future becomes impossible."
Turning to Emma he continued, "What replaces it? A farce or a tragedy? The elements of both are there. Which would you have, Emma – a future where your emotionless daughters merge with Cerebra, where Scott dies in your arms a hero to the end, where everything you know and hold dear is pulled down – human and mutant?
"I won't risk that, will you?
"As for borrowing an X-Jet, I don't need your permission."
***EMMA***
Emma followed the man, watching as his eyes glowed white and he walked out of the Medical Wing towards the hanger. Locked doors opened for him and when he reached the hanger one of the smaller jets was already powering up.
From the shadows Peter Rasputin stepped up to block the stranger's way, armored up in his living steel form that earned him the name Colossus. Marvel stopped and sighed, then sprang into motion. Emma watched as Peter reverted back into human form and collapsed.
"How the hell," Emma muttered.
Over his shoulder the man called, "Are you coming? I think the last time someone ran off with an X-Jet they smashed it into a Passenger Plane, right? Or was it the crash landing in Dallas?"
Seeing that she had no other option the woman ran after him and boarded the ship before the ramp was retracted. It was obvious that she couldn't stop him, so she was going along with him to make sure he didn't do anything illegal with Xavier Institute property. "You'll never get past the Sentinels."
"Let me worry about the tin men, Emma," the man called Marvel said. The hanger retracted and the jet rose. Three Sentinels, towering war machines originally designed to hunt down and kill mutants, stood watch over the grounds but as the X-Jet prepared to angle away the massive machines remained stationary.
Emma could sense the confusion of the pilots that were inside frantically pressing buttons trying to get some reaction out of them. "How are you doing this?" she asked.
"I can control technology with my mind. You've worked with Techno-paths before; is it so hard to believe that there are others out there?"
"Except that this power isn't natural," Emma went on. "I can sense it, the . . . wrongness of it."
He sighed, and told her, "I'm not going to discuss the future, Emma and what happens to me is in the future."
"So something was done to you?"
It was obvious that he was annoyed by her questions, but the man laughed instead of shouting. "The Cuckoos warned me that you were going to have a lot of questions. They asked me to tell you that even though they can't express it now, they love you very much."
Her daughters, sometimes known as the Stepford Cuckoos, were three clones created by injecting Emma's DNA into her own eggs. At one time there had been a thousand of them, a thousand perfect little girls just coming into consciousness when the power of the Phoenix Force snuffed them out. Only three remained – Phoebe, Celeste and Irma, the last of them preferring to be called 'Mindee' – and they'd shut down their ability to feel emotions in order to contain the power that had destroyed their sisters.
"Why can't they tell the future me?" Emma asked.
"The future you knows that they love you, and they know that you love them in turn. It's the current you they wanted to reassure."
"What about the Phoenix Force?"
His smile faltered and he changed the subject by saying, "Mimicry is going to talk a lot. I would take it as a kindness if you'd ignore anything he says."
"You aren't going to stop me? I could read his mind and learn a lot about the future."
"His power makes mind reading difficult, and he'll likely duplicate your own mind blocks. Besides, your Diamond Form might come in handy. If he tries to duplicate that it may interfere with his taking on other powers."
She smiled at that. "Typical – you just want me for my body."
Marvel laughed at that. "Trust me, Emma, you are not my type. I prefer brunettes, the smarter the better."
Scoffing, the woman murmured, "And you don't think I'm intelligent because I'm blonde?"
"You're a bottle blonde, Emma," he reminded her, "And no, I don't think you're unintelligent. You learned to build a Financial Empire while pole dancing."
***SHADOWCAT***
Kitty Pryde, the X-Man known as Shadowcat helped her partner and boyfriend to his feet. "How did he take you down, Peter?" she asked.
"I don't know, Katya," the tall man replied, using his pet name for her. "I've never been hit like that except by Logan, like his bones were indestructible."
"So I guess this is one point in favor of the Time Traveler Theory. Emma went with him and says she's in Los Angeles tracking down our mystery man's mystery threat. Scott wants us to prep the second X-Jet to follow them."
***PRODIGY***
David Allenye checked the patient as Dr. McCoy headed out to join the X-Men on their mission. He'd been told that the red headed woman was unlikely to wake, but if she did he was supposed to treat her as a potential threat. According to the information they had she was called Chronic and had the power to control time. It was also possible that she was from the future.
Though no longer a mutant he was still at Xavier's. Before M-Day he had the power to telepathically copy the learned skills of those around him, but a mental block kept him from remembering those skills when the person he copied them from left a certain range. Since the fateful day he'd lost his power, but the mental block was gone as well, so he remembered the accumulated knowledge and could combine it in amazing ways.
Called Prodigy he was an assistant instructor at the Institute and placed in charge when none of the Full-Time X-Men were around. With the medical knowledge of every doctor he'd ever met to guide him, Prodigy was one of the best to take care of a patient.
As he checked her vitals he heard the woman clear her throat. Chronic was smiling up at him, and wheezed, "Well, isn't this a treat, being tended by el Prezidente himself."
That simple phrase made David's heart freeze. While he'd still had his powers David had asked to have his Mental Block removed. Instead he'd been presented a vision of the possible future where he'd become the President of the U.S., had the X-Men killed, and was finally killed by his wife, Noriko Ashida, to stop him from bombing China. He'd been so frighten by that vision that until he'd lost his powers all together he never asked for the block to be removed again.
"Why are you calling me the 'President'?" he asked as he held a cup of water for her to drink.
"Because you become the President and C.E.O. of X-Corp," she explained. "What, you expected to become President of the U.S. in the current political environment? You wouldn't stand a chance. Well, maybe if Andy was your running mate, but he's still too young by law.
"Who's Andy?" David asked as he updated the woman's chart.
"Oh, right, no proper names. Marvel then; if he'd agree to be your Vice you'd have the popular support of everyone 18 to 35."
"Is he that popular?"
"How do I put this? He's the Brad Pitt of my generation; internationally known, uniformly liked, involved in dozens of charitable activities, and the new spokesman for human/mutant relations. The man is Prince Charming – every girl's dream and the type of guy parents actually wish their daughters would bring home."
David laughed, "For a member of the Brotherhood you sound like a fan."
"I wasn't always with the Brotherhood," Chronic admitted. "For a time this was my home, Marvel and I were friends and even lovers . . . for a time."
She made it sound like a fairy-tail without a happy ending, and David had to ask, "What happened? Why the slide to evil?"
"The Brotherhood isn't evil, they just have a different point of view," the woman said, finishing lamely as she knew it was a failing argument. "As for why I joined them? Andy didn't leave me much choice. After he found out . . . that I ruined his marriage to his childhood sweetheart he kicked me out. I tried coming back here, joining Kate's X-Men for a time, but that didn't work out. Because I never took civilian life seriously I wasn't in a position to work for the X-Corporation or any career for that matter. All that was left was the Brotherhood."
Rolling her eyes she admitted, "Stupidest decision I ever made. Thank god Marvel came and broke the group up before I was involved in anything stupid."
"You never committed an act of terrorism?"
"Do you think they'd let me out of prison if I was a Terrorist? When Marvel learned that I'd joined up with the Brotherhood he led a team to take me down."
"He must have been really worried about you," David told her. "I mean, he came after you to make sure that you weren't caught up in anything illegal."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," she said, smiling coyly. "Do you think I've got a shot with him?"
"Well, I've never met 'Andy', but I'm sure if you try you can to get back in his good books. From there it's up to him to take you back."
"Thanks, Mr. Alleyre."
"Oh, don't even go there. I'm only 18 years old."
"Right, sorry Prodigy."
***EMMA***
Emma walked the streets with the strange man, using her psychic powers to disguise their outrageous attire. To the men and women walking past them the pair looked to be a brother and sister spending the day together. She chose the brother/sister look because she and Marvel already looked alike.
There were dissimilarities, of course – the natural colors of their hair and the shades of the blue eyes. Marvel was slightly taller, but with her heels they were the same height. He frowned slightly as he looked around, which forced Emma to alter his facial expression in the minds of the people they passed.
He'd used his tracker to locate a white and blue uniform that had been left in a dumpster, making the GPS unit useless. Now they were walking the streets, trying to figure out what the teen's next move would be.
"Why here?" Marvel asked, mostly to himself. "Why would he come to the west coast when all his targets are on the east coast?"
"Maybe there's something he's looking for to give him an advantage. The finger bones of some ancient mutant or something."
"No, I don't think that's the case," Marvel commented. "Mimicry copies a mutant's energy signature to copy their powers. While a severed body part can contain an echo of that signature he'd need a living sample to copy the power successfully." He looked around again and checked the GPS tracker. "Wait . . . oh, damn it."
"You know why he's in L.A.?"
"Chronic lives here with her parents. She's only seven years old at this time and hasn't manifested her powers fully. Mimicry could be after her."
"But she hasn't manifested yet, and probably won't for years," the woman pointed out. She knew firsthand the difficulty of tracking down potential mutants, having recruited a team once for the Hellfire Club.
"Doesn't matter if the X-Factor is active or not – the potential energy is still there for him to copy. He would have to keep her close to use it for long periods of time, though, so he'll probably try to abduct her."
"Too bad she's not wearing one of your fancy trackers," Emma replied tartly.
"I need a computer," Marvel replied.
He spotted an internet café down the street and made a bee line for it. Once inside he took a seat and closed his eyes. Emma sat down beside him to keep up appearances and dealt with the waitress who came to ask if they needed anything. The girl eyed Marvel appreciatively before finally going away. Meanwhile, all around them people started complaining of computer malfunctions. Emma saw the monitor of one that read 'Cerebra Remote Active'.
"What are you doing, Marvel?"
"I'm networking every computer in the county into a single super computer, and using it to enhance my ability to detect the X-gene in others," he explained. "Ah, there we are; three active mutants in the city and a good dozen latents."
"You can sense latent mutants? Not even Cerebra can detect mutants who haven't manifested yet."
"Cerebra enhances the abilities of the psychic using it. Xavier could detect latents on the east coast because he could detect mutants normally – that's how he stayed one step of head of the Hellfire Club in his recruitment process. Since there are no psychics with mutant detection abilities currently at the Institute right now you can't detect latents. But since I can detect them normally I can use this remote version of Cerebra to enhance my range."
The computers started to go back to normal, and Marvel opened his eyes. For a moment they glowed white before turning their normal blue. "Let's go," he said, getting up.
Emma followed him to a local park where kids were playing. One was a little girl with red hair about seven years old. She was playing soccer as the goalie. As Emma watched she saw the girl stop three shots, guarding an adult size net with apparent ease.
"Unfortunately for her there's no Mutant League," Marvel confided.
"Is that Chronic?" Emma asked.
"She's only seven, but she's already unconsciously accessing her power. Notice how the ball slows slightly as it comes towards her?"
"Its amazing that Cerebra hasn't picked her up yet," the woman wondered.
"Her use is so small, just the soccer ball, that Cerebra can't pick it up with you or the Cuckoos using it." He looked around for his target, and sighed, "Maybe I was wrong."
"Frost, wrong?" a teenager interjected. "How could the great Prince Frost be wrong about anything?"
The speaker was a 15 year old boy dressed in blue slacks and a hooded sweatshirt, neither of which fitted him. He looked drawn and underfed, not to mention he smelled as if he hadn't showered in weeks.
"So, here you are, trying to hold me back, just like always," the teenager sneered.
"Mimicry," Marvel replied evenly. "I'm glad that I caught up with you before you did anything."
"Marvel, I figured you'd come after me, but who's the bimbo?" the boy wondered.
Emma growled the offensive word under her breath and tried to scramble the boy's mind, but encountered Mental Blocks similar to hers and Marvel's.
"Mimicry, Emma Frost; Emma, Mimicry," she said in introduction.
The boy laughed, "This is Emma Frost? Well, Lioness, it's so nice to finally meet the source of all my aggravation. Do you know what it's like to try to live up to your protégé?"
"Mimicry," Marvel growled to get the boy's attention. "Please, stop this insanity. Come with me, come back to the future and forget about all this."
"Forget about it? Forget about my parents? They were murdered, Frost, killed in cold blood by a coward, and I can stop it, I can undo it, I can have my parent's back!"
"And what about the rest of it? I read your notebook, Tom, I read your plans. You intend to kill your parent's murderer, and others. Rivals of your parents, people like Ericka Sanchez and Danny Paulette, men and women that never did you or your parent's any harm."
"Ericka Sanchez? The office slut who screwed her way into the internship that should have been my moms? And Danny Paulette, he cheated my father out of his startup business. He deserves what he's going to get, they both deserve it. All I'm doing is ensuring that they get what they deserve," Mimicry spat with the light of madness in his eyes.
"All you're doing is trying to ensure your own comfort," Marvel countered. "Listen to me, I knew your parents, they were good people who loved you very much. Yes, they struggled, but their difficulties helped define who they were, and that strengthened their marriage. Please, listen to me; they never would have wanted this."
Mimicry scoffed, "You really think that line of reasoning will work on me? The entire world may be in awe of you, but I know you better than that. You've been holding me back from the day I arrived at Xavier's"
"How is it that Marvel has been holding you back?" Emma asked.
"Please, as if you don't already know? Like my namesake, Mimic, when I copy someone's powers it is always to a lesser degree. But the more I'm around someone the stronger my copy is, and your boy here was my mentor, the Faculty Advisor of my Training Squad. I've got his powers down pat, all except for the Phoenix."
Emma almost gasped aloud, but she did take an involuntary step backward. The Phoenix, the cosmic entity that killed her daughters, the reason her remaining girls couldn't feel emotion so that they could contain its destructive impulses. It was life, and death, drawing on the potential energy of future generations, killing to live.
"The Phoenix isn't a Mutant, you can't copy it," Marvel pointed out.
"No, the Phoenix is the ultimate Mutant. That's why you never use it around me, because you're afraid that I'll become too powerful to control," Mimicry retorted. "That's how he's holding me back."
"Tom, you have the potential to be the greatest X-Man ever. You're a natural leader when you choose to be, a true asset to any team, but you never apply yourself to the task. If you'd just use your imagination you could overcome any obstacle."
"Good idea," the teen commented. "You know, I was going to save you for last, but I think I'll put you at the top of my list."
Mimicry moved with lightning speed down the Soccer Field where he picked up the seven year old Chronic. He smiled up at the two before disappearing.
"Damn it," Marvel cursed. "That didn't go the way I wanted."
"You didn't actually expect to talk him down, did you?" Emma scoffed.
"I'm an X-Man – diplomacy first, fisticuffs second," he said with a shrug.
"Well, it's obvious that Logan isn't leading the X-Men."
"James? No, but then again there is no telling where he is or what exactly he's thinking at any given moment."
"So, who exactly leads the X-Men since I'm obviously not around?"
He started walking towards where the X-Jet was parked, shaking his head. "What gives you that idea?" he said with a defeated sigh.
"Mimicry didn't know who I was. I can't imagine that I would have changed that much in 20 years. And he called me 'Lioness', why?"
"It's your call sign, in the future; Lioness, because that is the way you fought, defending your children to your dying breath," he answered sharply.
Emma stopped walking for a moment in shock, and then ran to catch up. "He also called you, 'my boy' and 'my protégé', why is that?"
He answered, "Because, the first year I spent at Xavier's you were like a mother to me – you and Scott were the only parents I ever knew. Like your daughters I took your death pretty hard, and in their grief I helped them control the Phoenix. That's why I hold a portion of it inside of me. We can only truly control it when we combine our Psychic abilities, but their usually busy at the Institute while I run the School in Massachusetts. That's why Mimicry has never seen me use it.
"You don't use the big guns to teach kids how to use a CAD program," he finished.
"Which brings me back to my question – who leads the X-Men?"
"Kate Rasputin leads the active roster with her husband, Peter," he finally sighed.
"Kitty is the leader of the X-Men?" Emma responded with a peel of laughter.
"Kate, Kitty is her daughter's code name."
"Same difference. What now?" She asked.
"Boston, Mimicry is out of Phase with time, that's why we can't see him. If he really is after me first then he'll head to Boston," Marvel assured her.
***CHRONIC***
Chronic came out of a light doze and looked around. Sitting next to her bed was a teenager with black hair and blue eyes. With a smile she said, "Hello, Hellion, come to have your fortune read?"
"Nah, I just drew the short straw," he replied. "Why, is there something you want to tell me?"
Shaking her head the woman said, "You're full of yourself, Julian, just like always, and it is going to get you in trouble. It's going to get you killed.
"Want my advice? Sophie Magenta is in New York City, look her up, move back to California with her and help her build her father's grocery store franchise. Be a husband, be a father, be a part time hero, just don't go to Genosha. Fame and Fortune will be your undoing," she offered. Despite his attitude, Hellion had been one of her favorite X-Men growing up.
"Yea, but Fame and Fortune are the only way to go," Julian Keller remarked with a lopsided smile.
The woman rolled her eyes. "God, you're pathetic. Could you send someone else to look after me? You're annoying." With that she rolled over and refused to acknowledge his presence.
***CYCLOPS***
"Right, Saint Andrew's Orphanage in Boston; we're changing course now," Scott Summers said through the Telepathic link with his lover and teammate, Emma Frost.
Behind him Kitty Pryde began doing an internet search. "Um, Scott, we have a problem."
***COLLOSUS***
"I do not understand," Peter Rasputin said half an hour later as they stood outside the Orphanage. The sign outside the wrought iron gate was rusted and hanging from only one bolt. Beyond it the orphanage was a wreck – three stories of dilapidated stone and mortar. According to Kitty it hadn't been an operating orphanage in eighty years.
Behind them the smaller X-Jet landed and Emma exited with the stranger.
"You'll be happy to know that Chronic has regained consciousness," Hank said. "The students are looking after her. Now, would you mind explaining his?" He gestured towards the building.
"Subterfuge," Marvel replied. "One of the first lessons Emma taught me. You see, the current Chronic is too weak to travel at Super Speed for very long, and Mimicry can't copy all her strength. That means that he trusted me to take him to my present self. Tom never much cared about learning who I really was, and the background lawyers put together for me is still in effect. He never had much of an imagination, isn't that right, Tom?"
A teenage boy holding a limp girl appeared just outside the circle created by the group of Mutant Heroes. "Well, that's Prince Frost for you, never wrong. Just one problem – you've gathered together the greatest team of Mutants in this generation, and unlike this little chit," he said, dropping the girl, "these mutants are all fully active."
With that he gained mass, his skin turning metallic, and he shot the ground with an optic blast. The X-Men spread out, but Marvel stood his ground.
"It's me you want, Tom," Marvel said as he stepped forward. "This is what you really want, isn't it?" With that wings of flame emerged from the man's back, his head encased in a fiery beak.
"Yes, finally," Mimicry said, turning back to normal.
"You'll need my Telepathy and Emma's Diamond Form to control it," the man advised.
The Phoenix left him and hovered in mid air. "Come to me, Phoenix," the teen called. "Together we will burn this world of impurities."
It entered him, and Mimicry rose off the ground. In a weirdly augmented voice he called out, "I am life. I am fire. I am victorious!"
He dropped back to the ground and reveled in his newfound power by blowing a hole in the orphanage wall with a fiery blast from his hand.
"Good," Marvel called back. "You're augmenting Emma's telepathy with my own, but I'm curious. How exactly are you containing it?"
"In my bones, just like you," the teen replied.
"How very . . . unimaginative," the future X-Man responded before pointing out, "One problem, my bones are flawless and yours are not."
With that pronouncement Mimicry cried out as his leg broke. "Your Football injury, wasn't that?" His arm broke. "I told you not to climb that tree." He clutched his chest as his ribs broke. "You never should have tried to take on your own Training Squad.
"Let it go, Tom. If you keep this up it will kill you," Marvel explained. "You can't contain it because you weren't ready, because you failed to think things through." Sounding like a disappointed parent he went on, "You could have been the greatest X-Man ever."
The Phoenix fled Mimicry's body and returned to Marvel. He turned semitransparent, his bones visibly glowing with the power he contained. When his skin returned to normal the man stepped forward and placed a device on the back of his former student's head.
"It puts pressure on certain points of the skull, distracting him and making it near impossible for him to use his power," Marvel explained. "Hank, could you help me set his bones?"
"Kate, Peter," Emma said, "Could you please take this little girl back to L.A.? I'm putting blocks on her mind so she won't remember boarding the X-Jet."
Marvel finished applying a splint to Mimicry's arm, and once the leg was done he helped the teen to his feet. Providing a shoulder for support he helped his former student onto the primary X-Jet.
***CYCLOPS***
Silently, through the telepathic link they shared, Scott asked, Did you learn anything from Marvel? I felt surprise emanate from you a couple times while you were away.
Equally silent, Emma replied, Apparently I die within a year of Marvel's arrival at the Institute, but in that time he comes to regard me as his mother. Scott, I think he might really be my son.
How is that possible? Scott inquired. All the clones at The World were female.
Maybe Sublime created a male clone to bring out a latent Mutant Detection power – he claims to be able to sense mutants who haven't even manifested their powers. Something like X-23's foot claws. Also, Mimicry called him 'Prince Frost'.
Maybe you should talk to Chronic before she leaves – Mimicry's arm and leg will need to be seen by Josh before he leaves any way.
***EMMA***
Emma did just that. Chronic smiled as the co-Headmaster of the school entered the hospital wing. Ruth Aldine did not need to be dismissed. The blind pre-cog known as Blindfold simply walked out as Emma entered.
"I love talking with Ruth," Chronic admitted. "When I'm around her it's almost like I can see the possibilities."
"Chronic, Michelle, I need to know, is Marvel my son?"
Shaking her head sadly, the woman replied, "It's never been proven if you are or not. The nanotech in his body destroys any samples taken from him. He legally changed his last name when he turned 18."
"Thank you, Michelle, for being honest with me."
As Emma stood up to leave Chronic said, "Things are changing; I can feel it, an aspect of my power. No future is set in stone, so you could very well survive the Weapon Plus attempt to retake your children. Whatever happens, you can't let them be taken. And if it's not too inconvenient, could you steer Andy towards redheads?"
Marvel entered then, cutting off conversation. Behind him was Mimicry, who'd been allowed to shower and change, explaining the delay. "Ready to go, Chronic?" he asked.
With a nod the woman climbed out of her sick bed and touched a device on her wrist, like a watch. Her uniform shimmered into place, replacing her medical gown. It was gold, with a blue X across the chest and a sort of half skirt belted across her right hip.
"Do you have to leave right away?" Emma inquired. "Shouldn't Michelle rest some more?"
"No, I'm quite alright, Ms. Frost," the woman answered. "Traveling forward in time is easier than traveling backwards. Besides, Andy would never let me hurt myself, would you?"
It wasn't really a question, and 'Andy' only smiled in response. "You know, this little misadventure did one thing – it reminded me of the challenges involved in leading an X-Team. So, Michelle, what do you think, are you interested in returning to the X-Men?"
"Me, on your team?" she asked, barely containing her excitement. He nodded and she smiled. "It's a start."
Before he could retort she grabbed hold of both Marvel and Mimicry, and vanished.
Emma sighed, wondering about the things she'd heard – the half information on a possible future in which she was dead, but was remembered fondly. Because she knew of this possible future it made it less likely since she was forewarned of her own death. She wandered the building, her feet directing her towards the Computer Lab where her daughters were taking college courses on-line, three at a time, sharing the information within their gestalt super-mind.
She was proud of her daughters – as proud of them as she would have been if she'd given birth to them herself. Yet she wished that she could have a personal relationship with them. With their hearts held in Diamond Form to contain the Phoenix none of them were able to feel emotion.
Thinking of Marvel she wondered what it would be like to have a child in her life that could laugh and cry and love. What kind of mother would she be though? What if she did something to lose the boy's love along the way?
"He will love you," Blindfold announced. "He won't be able to help it, it will be written in his bones."
"Ruth? What do you mean?"
The physically blind mutant teen turned and walked away, adding, "We should have cake; yes, birthdays should always be celebrated with cake."
***AGENT OH***
In the shattered ruins of The World, in the basement section that had housed one thousand clone daughters of Emma Frost in artificial wombs, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents overturned a section of rubble to uncover a single whole artificial womb containing a small boy, head down in the fetal position. His blonde hair waved in the disturbed liquid and he gave a jerk of movement, proving that he was alive.
"Sir," one of the agents called out, "we found a survivor!"
LeoN: This was actually the first FanFic I wrote as you can probably tell. I'd love feedback, good or bad.