Empathy
By: Drake Roberts
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: All of the characters, save Izzy, are the creation of Marvel Comics. I do not wish to infringe on any of the rights they have with these character. I just borrowed them for a while in order to tell a story that takes place outside normal continuity. I am making no money off of this venture, although I would really like to, someday. This was mearly done out of love for the characters, and as a cure for writer's block.
This is a sort of prologue to the other chapters that will be added to this. However, it can stand alone. The two stories are related, so I just put them together for simplicity's sake.
I'm not sure exactly where in the comics this story takes place. I know it takes place after Iceman's father was nearly beat to death by the Friends of Humanity, but in later chapters, Gambit is still with the X-Men. So, let's just say it has very little continuity with any of the comics. Kind of like novels other authors write about the comics.
Anyway, please, just humor me and go with the flow, especially in the Spiderman parts. I don't read the comic that often, and know I've gotten some things wrong. Feel free to enlighten me on my mistakes, but flames will only serve to warm my dorm room and feed my gargoyles. Enjoy, and send your thoughts to arrogantworms@hotmail.com.
* * * * * * * *
A circus. That's what this place reminded Izzy of, a circus. Reporters pecked away at PC keyboards and word processors. Phones rang and beepers chirped, sending a dull hum through the air. The constant babble drowned itself out into a constant roar. Only frantic hand and body gestures cut through the noise; no individual conversations rose above the clamber. Anyone new to this place got lost in the mayhem for the first few months. The Daily Bugle offices were every courier's worst nightmare, except for Izzy. Isabella thought of it as a challenge ready for undertaking and she learned quickly. In only two weeks she had navigated her way around and through most of the building's nooks and crannies. She prided herself in this, especially since she only delivered to the Daily Bugle every other day. Most of the couriers she worked with still didn't know the Bugle that well, and they had worked in New York for months. Apparently, though, this accomplishment failed to extend to J. Jonah Jameson's office. She'd been sitting outside the imposing double doors for over half an hour. The same thing happened every time she delivered here. Watching the others sitting, fidgeting, or pacing, she decided waiting this long was typical.
Couriers, reporters, advertisers, and just about everyone else were all expected to wait until J. Jonah Jameson got good and ready to see them. Izzy secretly suspected he didn't even come in until around nine. She sighed and resigned herself to wait.
* * * * *
Spiderman scanned the streets while webslinging from building to building. He had hoped starting early with a swing around the skyscrapers would help clear his jumbled mind, but he'd been wrong. Something was nagging at him in the back of his mind. He was so restless, he couldn't sleep at night. Mary Jane informed him that the fact showed this morning after he tossed and turned all night long.
"What's wrong, Peter. Are you worried about the bills?" she had asked.
He scowled. If only it were that simple. "No, it's just . . . I don't know, something. I can't explain it."
"You've got to relax, Tiger!" she exclaimed. "Maybe sometime around Christmas we can bury your alter ego for a weekend and get away, just the two of us." Mary Jane looked over at Peter, who had dozed off and threatened to plunge into his bowl of corn flakes any second. She looked at him with concern and cleared her throat loudly. Peter's head jerked up.
"I'll expect you to report to bed immediately after your meeting with Mr. Jameson today, young man," she informed him sternly.
Peter smiled at her thinly and kissed her goodbye. "I'll be back by noon," he assured her.
Spiderman landed lightly on the roof of the Daily Bugle building and began to get back into his "civvies". His skintight uniform fit nicely under his shirt and slacks, but he couldn't get his mask to lay right under his shirt. He reluctantly slipped it into his bookbag and walked down to the building. Even at eight-thirty in the morning, the office was in full swing.
Izzy spotted her way into Mr. Jameson's office as soon as he walked through the door. Actually, she was surprised he didn't bang into it. He didn't even look awake and it seemed only some supernatural force kept him from colliding by mere inches. She made a bee-line toward Peter as he walked around the cubicles.
"How's it goin', Pete?" she asked jovially.
"Uh, fine, Izzy," he answered, obviously distracted.
Izzy peered up at him. He looked haggard. "You know," she said, "if you're going in there with J.J. you better wake up, real quick."
"Yeah, I know," Peter replied, "I just had a rough night."
"Looks more like a few," Izzy commented quietly concern, lending her voice a gentler tone. "Did you and Mary Jane get in a fight again?"
"If only," he mumbled thinking of his and MJ's lack of romance the last few days because of his restlessness.
Izzy smiled slyly. "If you took me in there, I would keep you on your toes."
Peter chuckled. "Why would you want to stick your neck out for me?"
"You have an appointment and I have a class in thirty minutes."
"I thought at McCallister's School for Girls class started at eight o'clock. And isn't it against the rules to leave campus without permission from the headmistress?"
"Ah, come on," Izzy wailed, "I've got to make a living, don't I? I'll just say that I didn't feel well this morning. It's the truth, basically. I felt awful for about two minutes this morning. Then, I figured out how to get past the guard at the front gate."
"Alright, you can come in," he gave in opening the door, "but I don't think J.J. will like it very much."
Izzy gave Peter a grateful smile and followed him into the office. She stood beside him watching J. Jonah Jameson pace behind his desk. Pacing seemed to be a catching habit at the Daily Bugle.
"Parker, I'll make this quick." he bellowed. Izzy held back a snort.
J.J. threw a manila envelope across his desk. "Here's the Agenda for the Presidential Visit to New York City. I want photos from every possible locale. His meetings, press conferences, charity balls; hell, I want pictures of him eating breakfast in his bathrobe!'
"But the presidential visit is a month away, sir. Why give this to me now?" Peter asked.
"I want you to memorize that folder. You need to have every minute of the president's day accounted for. "It will help you get more pictures that way."
"I'm honored, Mr. Jameson."
"Don't be, Parker. You're not the only one covering this story. I just think your luck finding hidden agendas everywhere might come in handy." J. Jonah Jameson stopped suddenly when he noticed Izzy standing beside Peter.
"What are you doing here?" he grumbled
"I've got Isaac's latest editorial," she sing-songed, waving the folder in her hand.
"What's he got to say this time?"
"Don't ask me, I'm just the messenger."
Peter could have sworn that Jameson smiled slightly at the mention of Isaac's name. He snatched the envelope from Izzy and scanned the article quickly, lifting his eyebrows a few times.
"With the ideas he throws around, I'm glad he uses a false name. I wouldn't want responsibility for his untimely death. Do you read his articles, Peter?"
"Yes, actually," Peter replied hesitantly. "I find them very interesting."
That wasn't the half of it. He felt downright giddy to be hearing good things about mutants these days. When Isaac's first editorial appeared in The Daily Bugle, the Friends of Humanity held a newspaper burning on the steps of the building. Jameson kept publishing the editorials anyway, though. He argued that everyone deserved to put their opinions in print, but Peter believed that he secretly appreciated the man's audacity for even submitting the article in the first place. That took guts, and J.J. admired gumption. He also enjoyed making a spectacle of his office; publicity was good for business. That didn't mean Jameson shared Isaac's stand on mutant rights, or his opinion that the X-Men were heroes.
"Who is this guy?" Jameson asked Izzy, "and what would your uncle do if he knew you were delivering articles for him?"
"My lips are sealed," Izzy answered a cold tone beneath her usual cheery banter, "and Uncle Henry doesn't have to know about it, Mr. Jameson. My opinions are my own. He has no say in what I think."
"I believe that was a threat. You've got spirit. Just hope you don't get in over your head." Peter cleared his throat. "Anything else, sir?"
"No, no, Parker. That's it. Get out of here and take Junior with you."
Peter started to stuff the manila envelope into the bookbag he had over his shoulder. Izzy noticed his clumsiness as he fumbled with the zipper. "Poor guy," she thought. "He must be really stressed out about something." After several attempts, Peter finally slipped the manila envelope into the bookbag. Suddenly Isabella noticed a piece of red material poking out of a corner of his backpack.
"What the, . ?" she thought frantically.
"Parker?" Jameson questioned. "What is that? Is that. . . a mask?"
When she saw Peter's look of panic, two things happened in a split second. Several inconsistent observations about Peter Parker fell into place, and she made a decision. Izzy snatched the mask out of his backpack and clutched it possessively to her chest.
"You found it for me!" she exclaimed. She hugged Peter so hard her arms hurt. With her back now turned away from Jameson she mouthed "Play along," and winked at him confidently.
"Found what?" J.J. bellowed, totally confused.
"This Spiderman mask," she answered displaying it proudly and pulling it down over her face. It was still slightly damp near the mouth. He must have just taken it off. God, she still couldn't picture Pete lifting cars! "They had them for sale downtown." she said smiling, even though no one could see it through the mask. "Isn't it so neat?"
J. Jonah Jameson looked like he was going to explode. "Do you know what your uncle would say if he saw you wearing that...that thing?!"
She had forgotten about that. Man, listening to Jameson rant about Uncle Henry's judgments almost surpassed the multitude of lectures she'd received over the years. Oh, well. It was worth it for the looks on J.J. and Pete's faces. Maybe Jameson wouldn't tell. He didn't like her uncle that much anyway. She pulled off the mask and looked at him with the best puppy eyes she could muster with two seconds notice.
"You won't tell him, will you?" Her expression showed worried innocence, but inwardly, she was thinking of strategies of revenge if Jameson insisted on informing Uncle Henry.
J.J. scowled. "Just get out of my office. NOW!!"
Izzy stuffed the mask in her pocket and she and Peter scurried out of Jameson's office. The second she reached the safety outside J.J.'s door, she leaned on the door heavily and sighed. A reporter looked at her sympathetically.
"That bad?" he asked.
"You have no idea!" Peter exclaimed.
The two walked out of the waiting room and into the maze of cubicles beyond. Peter pulled Izzy aside. "Meet me on the roof in ten minutes. We have to talk," he whispered.
Izzy nodded and headed through the cubicles toward the stairwell, still in shock by the magnitude of the secret she had just become a part of. And she had thought today would be boring.
Izzy sat with her back against one of the legs of a microwave tower. She didn't like tall buildings that much. So, instead of looking out at the surrounding buildings, she focused on the note cards clamped in her hands. She was so engrossed that she jumped when Peter Parker tapped her on the shoulder. Peter sighed and sat down beside her.
"Thank you, Izzy. I owe my secret to you."
"It's nothing, really," she responded, blushing. "Secrets are nothing new for me. I grew up with tons of them."
Peter looked at her curiously, but continued without commenting. "Uncovering Spiderman's secret identity would earn major points with J.J." He looked at her suspiciously. "How long have you known?"
"Don't worry. I just found out down there in J.J."s office," she assured him. "I could have kicked myself for not finding out sooner. Once I saw that mask, so many things fell into place. Your sudden disappearances, the days when you come in the Bugle with just the slightest limp or stiff movement. . ." She smiled at him. "No wonder you get such great shots of Spidey."
"Why did you do it?"
"It's just. . ." She looked over at Peter. "You're a hero, Pete. I couldn't rat on one of the best things to happen to New York since running water."
"With all the bad press, I'm surprised you think so."
"What, are you kidding? I don't listen exclusively to the press. I find out my facts for myself. I would be insulting my own intelligence if I did anything else. You would think in a city with so many interesting things going on at once, people would look up once in a while. Reporters don't even look up, and they miss a whole part of the city, full of stories. Most of the time Spidey's the guy who keeps the baddies from reaching street level."
Parker smiled despite himself. "I appreciate the vote of confidence." He quickly became serious. "You know you can't tell anyone about this. Not the press, not your friends, or your uncle, whoever he is."
"No way!" she exclaimed. "If I told him, the whole world might as well know. You can trust me to keep your secret. Just as long as you help me move my furniture sometime. Super strength does have its advantages."
Peter looked at her and laughed. "It sounds like you've been planning this."
"I figured the only way you could get such exclusive pictures was if you knew the webhead himself," she explained. "I was going to ask if you could pull some strings some time." She looked at him critically, "Oh, and while I'm giving orders, get some sleep. You look like you're about to keel over, Pete."
Izzy threw Peter his mask which he quickly donned with the rest of his red and blue costume.
"If I can ever get this nagging feeling out of my mind, I will." He shot a line of webbing and swung away.
"I wish I could make an exit like that." Izzy thought as she looked over the void, for some reason not nearly as nervous as she had been only minutes before. She glanced at her watch.
"Aww, shoot! I'm late!" She ran to the stairwell and headed for the ground floor. "Mrs. Baldwin's going to kill me."
* * * * *
Robert Drake smiled at his father as they walked down the streets of Manhattan. A few months ago, Bobby had wondered if his dad would ever walk again. But, he was walking now, proof of his father's stubbornness and unwillingness to give up. Bobby felt closer to his father than he had in years, maybe ever.
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" Bobby stated.
"That it is, son," his father answered him, hugging him with one arm around his shoulders.
Bobby sighed, content just to walk beside his father. At times like this, Bobby hardly missed the X-Men. At times like this he told himself he needed this time away from the fast lane.
He knew no one would argue with him. Things had happened to him over the years, and as much as he played them down as wacky misadventures, had affected him. Creed and Bastion only icinged the cake, so to speak. He couldn't help but wonder sometimes, though. Did they even miss him? He pushed the thought aside even as it arose. Hank had come to visit today. At least old Furball missed him.
Bobby's father looked at his son and saw the uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. "What's bothering you, Bobby?" he asked concerned.
"Nothing, I'm just thinking."
"About the X-Men, right? You know, you can go back any time you want."
"I know, Dad. I'm just. . ." Bobby shook his head, "I don't know. It just doesn't seem like it's the right time. Something..... "
Suddenly, the sound of trash cans crashing in the alley interrupted the father-son conversation. Bobby saw a few startled pedestrians jump back nervously, then walk on, careful to stay clear of the action. Sometimes people's apathy toward the safety of their fellow man made his blood boil. And for someone who could freeze nuclear reactors with little more than a thought, that was a hard task. He didn't expect them to fight off the bad guys, he didn't even like to fight unless he had to, but there were phones everywhere in this city. Someone could call the police.
"I'll be right back, Pop." He left before his father could argue. "Go call the police."
Bobby's father watched his son go. Whether Bobby realized it or not, his father looked up to him. "I wish there were more people like you, son. People might not think as badly of mutants." he thought.
Bobby changed into his ice form and approached the alley cautiously.
"Let go of me, you creep!" someone shouted. He heard scuffling, following by more crashing trash cans. Suddenly he heard one of the lids strike a body and a gruff exclamation of pain.
"You'll pay for that! Now listen, we know you got connections, girlie. Tell us where to find them!"
"You didn't ask nicely. . ." Iceman heard the impact of a man's fists as he started down the alley.
He could see the group more clearly now. Two rejects from the Godfather in black suits and long trenchcoats were trying to pound information out of. . .a girl? The mere thought of those guys pounding on her disgusted him. Didn't these creeps have anything better to do?
"Hey, dirtbags. Why don't you pick on someone who can fight back?"
The thug holding the girl turned. "Well, well, well, isn't this just our lucky day? Pound on a mutielover and the freaks come out." He threw the girl aside.
When he saw the girl slam into the wall and slide to the ground, something snapped. In two seconds the thugs were encased from the necks down in eight foot blocks of ice. They couldn't move their heads back and forth and their feet didn't even touch the ground. Iceman ran over to the fallen girl.
"Are you alright?"
The girl's eyes cracked open slightly. She gazed at the thugsicles and the man of ice kneeling beside her. "You're a mutant, aren't you?" she asked, stating the obvious.
Bobby stared at her, afraid to answer. What if she freaked out and started screaming?
She smiled, "Cool." Her eyes closed and her face fell back to the pavement.
Bobby's father walked up and stood behind him. "What's going on?"
"Just an example of how low people can go," Iceman answered bitterly. He pointed over to the frostbitten thugs. "Those guys couldn't find anyone else to terrorize, so they pounded on this innocent girl."
"Innocent?" one of the thugs cried. "She's a gene traitor. A human who advocates coexistence between real humans and mutant scum! She couriers for Isaac."
"Isaac, I've heard of that name," Iceman thought. "I'll have to ask Hank about it when we get back."
Mr. Drake's eyes widened as recognition hit him. He'd seen these men before. He quickly averted his face before they could get a good look at him and clenched his fists in silent fury. The faint wail of police sirens sounded a few blocks away. Bobby picked up the girl. She weighed a little more than Rogue or Storm, but he'd carried heavier people before.
"Come on, son. Let's go."
Iceman quickly formed an ice slide beneath him. "Hop on. We'll take the fast way."
Mr. Drake clutched Iceman's shoulders and the three sped off though the New York skyline. "Where to?" Iceman called over his shoulder.
"Let's take her home. Hank can take a look at her."
"Yeah. Blueboy needs the practice," Iceman agreed.
They sped on in silence. Iceman had seen his father's reaction to the two men even though he had hidden it quickly. Years with the X-Men had taught him more than fighting skills. It made him wish he'd built up the ice blocks a few inches further. Friends of Humanity. The very word invoked a deep resentment, almost hatred that was rare for Bobby. The feeling scared him a little, to tell the truth. Well, his father was safe and so was this mystery girl. That would be enough, for now.
A forklift loaded the thugs into an extra large paddy wagon. A comical scene, but the police weren't laughing. Their investigation had been usurped by a higher authority. His green suit, sunglasses, and shockingly red hair stood out among the dark suited NYPD. Surprisingly though, he had come alone.
"Alright, everyone clear out. This is a federal investigation. I want everyone to leave the scene and all evidence as they found it. Hopefully we can find a lead to Isabella Perry's whereabouts."
If Spiderman hadn't been hiding from the prying eyes of Gyrich and the police, he'd have gasped. As it was, he nearly fell off his perch five stories above the alley. "I should have taken her home," he thought miserably. He knew exactly who those thugs were too. He'd seen them at the newspaper burning. He hoped the definite evidence of Iceman's handiwork meant she was in safe hands. But, something still needed clarifying. Spidey had to deal with Gyrich.
The police cleared out quickly, afraid of angering the unpredictable Gyrich. Spiderman watched as they left, leaving Gyrich completely alone at the crime scene, which was surprising. But, it didn't compare to what happened next. Gyrich slumped down against a wall of the alley and laid his forehead on his knees, clearly upset. Spidey was taken aback. He'd never witnessed this side of HPG. He cautiously climbed down the wall until he was level with him.
"Gyrich?" he asked tentatively, still clinging to the wall and ready to escape at the first sign of trouble.
Gyrich jumped, startled and glared at Spiderman. "What are you doing here? Did you have anything to do with this?" he spat angrily.
"No, I want to figure out what happened to Isabella Perry just as much as you," Spiderman said more forcefully than he intended.
"You and Iceman conspired together. You thought kidnapping an innocent girl would be an easy terrorist action, but you were mistaken! I'll have you put away for a hundred years for kidnapping my niece!"
"His niece!" Spiderman thought frantically. "He's Uncle Henry? No wonder she said if she told him who I was everyone would know."
"Don't play stupid with me Spiderman. What do you hope to gain by kidnapping her?"
"Listen to me!" Spiderman shouted, silencing Gyrich. "I haven't done anything with Isabella, and neither has Iceman. I know you are upset, I would be too, but that doesn't give you a reason to blame the entire mutant race. If you'd examine the clues, namely the blocks of ice enclosing the two thugs, you would see Iceman was fighting FoH members. Considering their overall attitude, I'd guess they attacked your niece."
"What would the Friends of Humanity want with my niece?" Gyrich asked a little more calmly.
"I don't know," Spiderman answered coldly. "You're probably an honored member."
"I would never join the Friends of Humanity," Gyrich replied coldly, surprising Spiderman considerably. "That group of vigilantes does more harm than good. Mutancy is a curse, not a death warrant," Gyrich thought for a moment. "And there's no way they could have learned of her connection with me. She wouldn't be that careless."
Several things fell into place at once as Spidey began putting the pieces of Izzy's abduction together. "It's not you they wanted," Spiderman informed him, "It was her."
"I don't follow."
Spiderman sighed, "She'll kill me when she finds out I told him," he thought, "but here goes." "Your niece delivers Isaac's editorials to the Daily Bugle," Spiderman told Gyrich.
"What!" Gyrich shouted. "Why would she do that? She doesn't need the money."
"My guess is she believes in what he says. She obviously grew up smarter than you, Gyrich. I'm surprised you're related. She behaves like a decent human being."
Gyrich glowered at Spiderman. "Izzy has always been free spirited. I never wanted to destroy that part of her. Maybe I was wrong."
Spiderman watched him in silence. So, there was a different side of Gyrich. He actually cared about someone other than himself. Too bad he didn't show this side of himself more often.
"If my guess is right, the Friends of Humanity hoped to learn Isaac's real identity from her," Spiderman concluded.
Gyrich nodded. "Then the X-Men, or at least Iceman, showed up and stopped them in his own original fashion. That still doesn't explain why she's missing. I don't trust them. Why didn't they just leave her here? Spiderman. . .?" Gyrich looked over at the wall. Spiderman was gone.
"Great," he mumbled. Gyrich stood up and began collecting evidence. He looked up at the now darkening sky. "I just hope you're right, and she's safe."
* * * * *
At that moment, things were more relaxed at the Drake home. Beast finished examining the girl now laying on the living room sofa and spread a quilt over her. Bobby sat on the arm of a chair reading through a small stack of note cards.
"Hank, you won't believe what I just read," Bobby told him.
"Why, did you discover her plans for world domination in that bookbag?"
"No, just her speech for Communications Day at her school. She really went out on a limb with this. I almost feel sorry she didn't get to give it."
"To keep your attention, it must contain the secrets of the universe," Beast commented as he examined the bruise on Izzy's temple. "Please, illuminate me."
Bobby cleared his throat loudly. "Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Daumer, what do all these people have in common? If you answered they were serial killers, you are only half right. They were also 100% Homo sapien. A mutant gene by no means makes a criminal. The human race did fine on its own before. Critics say that mutants' powers makes them a threat. They pose no more of a threat than someone with an AK-47, probably even less. Most mutants don't even rate Alpha. We must accept Homo sapien superior or we will soon be faced with dire consequences. A mutation is only a difference, like having six toes or being lactose intolerant. No one chooses to be a mutant, even children of mutants are not guaranteed to carry the X- factor.
Mutancy usually displays itself near the onset of puberty, a time of great uncertainty. Believe me, I know I'm very confused right now. When most mutant "powers" assert themselves, the unprepared teenagers has no way to control them. Being chased by an angry, panic driven mob does not help this situation. How would you like it if people tried to kill you because you suffer from myopia, which is, by the way, another genetic imperfection? The prospect might sound silly to you, but what difference is there, really? These "muties" are dangerous, you might say. You're wrong, these people are your brothers, sisters, children, neighbors. They eat, sleep, watch TV, and go to school or work just like everyone else. These people, these humans, have the same hopes and dreams as anyone here.
When is everyone going to stop chasing scared children they should be helping? Doesn't anyone in Congress trying to pass Mutant Registration Laws realize how much the entire planet could benefit if they pushed aside their own fears and feelings of inadequacy and just accepted mutants? Don't any of these hypocrites have children? What if one day, your child started to display some of these "unnatural powers"? Would you cart them off to be registered, or take them directly to the Sentinels to be dealt with? If we banded together, the possibilities would become endless. A police force with a partial mutant percentage could stop human and mutant criminals alike. A flying fireman could greatly improve rescue time in high rise buildings where it's nearly impossible for ladders to reach. And telepaths would be invaluable in helping to find murders, thieves, and even lost children.
There's no need to get hysterical. Would you want to hear everyone's thoughts around you every minute of every day? Of course not, and neither do telepaths. If people with potentially threatening powers are taught to control and told the ethics of using them early, then we have nothing to fear. In fact, we only have everything to gain."
"It's a good thing you rescued her before the Friends of Humanity looked in her bookbag. That speech wouldn't have improved their opinion of her," Beast commented.
"There's still so much that I don't understand," Bobby said. "Why would those gangster rejects be roughing her up for information? Who is she? Nothing makes sense."
"I believe you have just stumbled upon one of the profound truths of life, Robert, my boy," Beast observed drolly.
"Well, Dr. McCoy, what's the verdict," Mr. Drake asked.
"She's got a few cracked ribs and some bruises, but Mrs. McCoy's bouncing baby boy predicts she'll make a full recovery in no time."
Izzy moaned and her eyelids fluttered.
"You weren't kidding, Furball," Bobby proclaimed.
"Alas, I did not believe our Sleeping Beauty would awaken so soon. She's giving Wolverine phenomenal competition in the healing field."
"Ooh, my head," Izzy mumbled. She brought her hand up to her forehead to try and stop its pounding. "Did anyone get the number of that bus?"
"Another comedian," Mr. Drake muttered goodheartedly. "Just what we needed."
Realizing she was no longer in the alley, Izzy suspiciously took in her new surroundings. She spied Beast, but she didn't say anything. Usually seeing Beast preceded a earpiercing scream. "Where am I?" she asked after taking in the whole room.
"Away from those goons, that's for sure," came a voice from the window. Hank and Bobby turned to see Spiderman perched on the windowsill. "How're you feeling, Izzy?"
"I've seen better days, Spidey," Izzy answered, smiling weakly. She looked up at Bobby, Mr. Drake, and Hank. "Thanks for the save, by the way. Those goons would have worked me over good if you hadn't showed up."
"No problem, Izzy. It was worth it so I could read your speech," Bobby said.
Izzy blushed. Bobby looked over at Spiderman, who had by now made his way into the house. " I guess you know Izzy, but how did you find us?" he asked.
Spidey walked over to Izzy's jacket and reached under the collar. He pulled out a spider tracer. "Old habits die hard. I wanted to keep an eye on her, just in case."
"I assume you know where this young woman lives?" Beast asked looking at him over his spectacles.
"I just finished talking to her uncle," Spiderman stated.
Izzy paled a few shades. "You talked to Uncle Henry?" She fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. Bobby wondered who this "Uncle Henry" was.
"Yep. He's worried about you. I should take you home before he decides to turn this town upside down. Dr. McCoy, is it okay if I give her a lift to her uncle's apartment?"
"I could go with you," Bobby offered.
"NO!" Izzy exclaimed. "I mean, Uncle Henry is peculiar around strangers. You wouldn't like to meet him at a time like this."
Bobby looked at her suspiciously, but didn't comment.
"Actually, I think he should come and show your uncle he meant well," Spiderman argued. "We wouldn't want him to freak out, would we?"
"Good God, no. By all means, let's go!"
"Be careful not to pitch young Izzy around too much," Beast warned. "She's been through enough today. I would suggest that Iceman carry her." He looked at Spiderman sympathetically. "Not that I believe you would not use the utmost care."
"Don't worry," Spiderman assured him. "I understand. My ego will survive."
Bobby gently lifted Izzy from the couch, leaving the blanket over her. "Don't want you to get frostbite," he commented good-naturedly.
As Spidey, Iceman, and Izzy traversed the New York skyline, Iceman tried to figure out exactly why Izzy had been involved in the incident earlier.
"Do you have any idea why those thugs were after you today?" he asked her.
She mulled the question over for a few moments. "I guess I owe you an explanation, but what I tell you is in strict confidence, deal?"
Iceman smiled, "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Izzy took a deep breath. "I courier for Isaac. They thought that since he wrote so much about mutants, he might know a few. They were looking for information on the location of the X-Men, ironically enough."
"That's why that thug reacted the way he did when I got there," Iceman realized. "But why would they FOH want to know about the X-Men? It's not their style to attack head on."
"Did they know anything else, other than the Isaac thing?" Spidey asked.
"No, they just wanted to know Isaac's connections," she replied.
"I don't quite follow you," Iceman commented. "What are you two talking about?"
"As you'll soon find out," Izzy informed him, "I have more connections than your average sixteen year old. I'd tell you, but I don't want to ruin the surprise."
Iceman was left to ponder this strange development as silence fell over the group. The three continued on wordlessly across town. Sometime along the way, Izzy had fallen back asleep in Iceman's arms. This girl had been in Iceman's life for only a few hours, but she had already raised more questions than he had dealt with in weeks. And it seemed there were more to come.
The two slowed as they approached one of the many highrise hotels in Manhattan. Iceman wondered why Izzy's uncle would be staying in a hotel instead of one of the nearby highrise apartments. Whose niece was she? The answer came sooner than he expected.
They arrived at a window on the eleventh floor. Spiderman jumped onto the wall of the building and tapped on the window pane. Iceman heard the faint echo of movement inside the room before he saw a man approach the window.
"Don't turn on your light," he heard Spiderman call to the man, but he barely noticed. He had just seen Uncle Henry.
"Gyrich? Izzy's your niece?" he said, still in shock.
Gyrich threw open the window and he and Iceman stood face to face. He noticed Izzy asleep in Iceman's arms. "What have you done to her!" he spat viciously.
"N, nothing," Iceman argued, coming to his senses. He realized what the scene might look like to Gyrich and continued on in a subdued tone "She has a couple of cracked ribs and a nasty bump on her head, but she'll be fine."
"Thanks to him," Spidey interrupted with much more bite. "He got her out of a dangerous situation. You should be a little more grateful."
"No, it's okay," Iceman argued. He could tell from the look in Gyrich's eyes that the last thing on his mind was thanking him. As much reason as the man had given Iceman to hate him, he knew how Gyrich was feeling. Frustrated, helpless, angry that someone could something like this to an innocent bystander, only guilty of standing up for what they believed in. Iceman knew all too well. He moved closer to the window and deposited Izzy in Gyrich's arms. "I just did what I hope someone would do if someone I loved was in trouble." Iceman turned and sped off into the night on an ice slide.
"She's a good kid," Spiderman told Gyrich. "I hope you appreciate her." With that, Spidey also took his leave.
Gyrich laid Isabella on the bed and closed the window to keep out the night chill. When he got back to the bedside Izzy stirred and opened her eyes.
"Are you alright, Isabella?" he asked with concern.
"I'm fine, Uncle Henry. Iceman saved me. They both helped me. Really, I'm fine."
"Get some sleep," he told her gently. "I'll call the school and tell them you're staying with me for a few days. The headmistress is probably worried sick by now. . ."
He turned to Izzy, but she had already fallen back asleep. He pulled the covers up to her chin and stroked her cheek lovingly. He stood and regarded her, sleeping soundly. A few hours ago, his life had been ripped apart when he found out she was missing. Now, she was safe and sound with him again, thanks to a person whose existence he'd threatened for years. The man had made no snide remarks, no demands of thanks, just a statement of understanding. It was one of the first pure acts of kindness even indirectly focused on him in his life.
"Thank you," Gyrich whispered, gazing out into the cold Manhattan night.
* * * * *