X-Men #2
"Truth and Mourning"
The dark office was lit only by a small desk lamp. Directly under the light was a picture of a young redheaded girl and an older balder man. Also on the desk was several address books, and a clock that read 2AM. Beside that was a steaming mug of coffe. In the seat behind the desk Jean Grey sat. Hands at her temples massaging them. She had been in this very office for close to six hours now. She had to phone relatives, business associates, friends, everyone who the professor knew, she had to get in touch with. She had to tell them of the unfortunate fate that has befallen the friend. Now she didn't have to do what she was doing, but it was something she felt someone needed to do. Zeke did not have the patience to do it. Nor was he in the mindstate to even be approached about it according to what Rock had said. Stacey was a mess, Warren was gone, and Hank was….milling about somewhere. So the duties were left to her.
"I'll be in touch." Jean said into the speaker phone before pushing the button to bring her latest call to an end. She reached for her box of kleenex and was annoyed to find it empty. The box floated into the air and to the trashcan nearby as a fresh box hovered over onto the table and opened. Jean thought she was over her tears but phoning a close college friend of the Professor's this was not the case. She looked at the picture of her and the professor when she was barely a teenager. His first training guenia pig. She didn't mind. Even at that young age she understood the importance of what he had in mind to do.
Jean wasn't too different of a person then that she is now. Same red hair, same green eyes, same mutant telepathic and telekinetic powers, same devotion to the professor.
*
In another area of the mansion Hank McCoy was at work. He was active in the mansion's training facility, affectionately referred to as the Danger Room. Bounding here, rolling there, kicking this, punching that, Hank worked out his sorrow and frustration by beating the hell out of the robots therin. He had been at it for hours now. Not too long after he found out the news of the professor's death this is where he came. He knew the body was back at the mansion but he hadn't brought himself to going up there to look at it. He couldn't. He just wasn't ready to see his hero lying prone, prepared to be put in a pine box.
"Computer, upload level 8 special McCoy programming." Hank said aloud.
Around him the room changed. It went from the jungle setting he was working out in, to a ruined urban setting. It was like a warzone. Sight, smell, audio, it was all there to make it seem like the user was in a war ravaged place. Hank called it "special McCoy programming" because he spent so much time working on it, and perfected it to the little flies buzzing around the "dead bodies". Soldiers in army gear ran at him guns blazing. Hank vaulted over the gun fire and delivered to solid feet to the heads of the soldiers, knocking them clear off their shoulders. That was a benefit to the Danger Room. The luxury of being able to go all out without hurting anyone else.
"Going to stay in there forever?" A voice said over the loudspeaker. Hank dodged a bullet and looked up to an area that always remains unchanged no matter the Danger Room setting. Looking out the observation window at him was Rock Summers.
"I might." Hank called back. The setting and the soldiers faded. Hank decided rather then argue with Rock, he would go talk to him. That's what Rock wanted, and perhaps its was Hank finally needed to do.
Rock stood behind the exit door with arms folded as Hank walked out. Rock threw him a towel. Hank caught it with an oversized hand and proceeded to get some of the sweat off of his body.
"Worked out your problems?" Rock asked.
"Not hardly." Hank replied.
"I didn't think so. I don't know if any of us will."
"But you seem like you have."
"Nah." Rock smirked a bit. "That's what I let you all see. Maybe I can motivate you to be stronger."
"For all my brains I could never fathom this happening." Hank said. "The Professor was everything to us. Father, brother, friend, teacher, leader. He was going to prove to the world out there that mutants can help mankind." He continued. "I relished everyday being a part of that plan."
"Me too. He did so much for us."
"So why did someone do that to him?" Hank asked. "I mean I thought the anti-mutant groups were stupid, but outright assassination? Of such a pivatol figure?"
"Seems like you are answering your own question there Hank. The Professor was a modern day Martin Luther King, Jr. He scared so many people. This was the way to deal with him." Hank stopped.
"But this scares me Rock. How am I going to deal without him?"
*
Warren Worthington III landed on the rooftop of the Times Square Building. It was taped off at all entrances by police. A few were stationed outside to turn away any unwanted visitors to the crime scene. Warren knew that the roof was probably not going to be guarded. No one exactly suspects someone to fly down from the sky to get inside a building. Warren crept along the roof to a side of the building with another building close by. He floated down between the two and found a window. It wasn't locked, allowing Warren to half fly, half climb in.
The inside of the building was left much the way it was earlier in the day when the shooting happened. He saw the stage where everyone sat. The special podium made for the professor in his wheelchair. The chalk outline of the Professor's body on the floor from when it was thrown back out of the chair from the shot. That was the place to start looking. Warren would try to find the probably place of the shooter and look for any clues he may have left there.
Warren glided downward to the stage. He knealt down and ran his fingers along the chalk line. His mind flashed back to the Professor's still body there. The screams from the crowd. He turned and looked upward. He spotted several locations on the catwalk above that could have been used for a sniper post. Warren decided to just check them all. He Flew to the closest one and dropped to the floor to look for clues. He brought a minature flashlight with him as most of the lights were off.
Warren flew to the second spot and found nothing there as well. He was about to rise to his feet and spread his wings when he heard a noise. Warren quickly killed his light and held his breath hoping to hear the sound again and discern a direction. To his delight, another sound was heard. An audible curse. Warren looked and saw a figure dressed in black roaming around one of the other spots. Warren rose high into the air, settling over this new comers head.
"Where is that dam shell casing? Shouldn't have lost it but my only escape was in that initial mob of people."
"Shell casing…" Warren said to himself.
The man bent down and his hand gripped something. He examined it closely and gave a noise of satisfaction. Warren was awe-struck for a moment having the shooter return to the scene of the crime. He decided not to let this go to waste and promptly swooped down on the man. Much to the man's surprise Warren grabbed him by the collar and lifted him in the air.
"What the hell?" The man said. His voice was a tad muffled up close given the ski mask he was wearing.
"You shot Professor Xavier!" Warren said.
"Let me go you mutie scum!" The man screamed.
He began squirming around, trying to break free of Warren's grip. Warren wasn't trying to hard to keep a hold of him and did infact let go. The man fell screaming until he managed to reach out and latch onto catwalk railing. Warren listened for a moment to see if the man's screaming had attracted any police attention. Satisfied it did not, Warren took another dive at the man. He let go of the railing and crashed into a table below him breaking it in half. The man quickly kicked the remains off of him and bolted towards the nearest door. Warren went to follow but noticed something on the floor. Upon closer examination Warren found it to be the shell casing. He looked back at the door the man went out of and contemplated following.
"He may have a car and be long gone. But with this, maybe it could be a step towards finding that son of a bitch. Zeke was right about one thing. I will be Professor X's golden boy, because I will find out who did this to him. And I will be his Avenging Angel."
Bold words from Warren Worthington. Huh? Will he make them come to fruition? Will the others get involved? What will become of all the inhabitants of the mansion?
"Truth and Mourning"
The dark office was lit only by a small desk lamp. Directly under the light was a picture of a young redheaded girl and an older balder man. Also on the desk was several address books, and a clock that read 2AM. Beside that was a steaming mug of coffe. In the seat behind the desk Jean Grey sat. Hands at her temples massaging them. She had been in this very office for close to six hours now. She had to phone relatives, business associates, friends, everyone who the professor knew, she had to get in touch with. She had to tell them of the unfortunate fate that has befallen the friend. Now she didn't have to do what she was doing, but it was something she felt someone needed to do. Zeke did not have the patience to do it. Nor was he in the mindstate to even be approached about it according to what Rock had said. Stacey was a mess, Warren was gone, and Hank was….milling about somewhere. So the duties were left to her.
"I'll be in touch." Jean said into the speaker phone before pushing the button to bring her latest call to an end. She reached for her box of kleenex and was annoyed to find it empty. The box floated into the air and to the trashcan nearby as a fresh box hovered over onto the table and opened. Jean thought she was over her tears but phoning a close college friend of the Professor's this was not the case. She looked at the picture of her and the professor when she was barely a teenager. His first training guenia pig. She didn't mind. Even at that young age she understood the importance of what he had in mind to do.
Jean wasn't too different of a person then that she is now. Same red hair, same green eyes, same mutant telepathic and telekinetic powers, same devotion to the professor.
*
In another area of the mansion Hank McCoy was at work. He was active in the mansion's training facility, affectionately referred to as the Danger Room. Bounding here, rolling there, kicking this, punching that, Hank worked out his sorrow and frustration by beating the hell out of the robots therin. He had been at it for hours now. Not too long after he found out the news of the professor's death this is where he came. He knew the body was back at the mansion but he hadn't brought himself to going up there to look at it. He couldn't. He just wasn't ready to see his hero lying prone, prepared to be put in a pine box.
"Computer, upload level 8 special McCoy programming." Hank said aloud.
Around him the room changed. It went from the jungle setting he was working out in, to a ruined urban setting. It was like a warzone. Sight, smell, audio, it was all there to make it seem like the user was in a war ravaged place. Hank called it "special McCoy programming" because he spent so much time working on it, and perfected it to the little flies buzzing around the "dead bodies". Soldiers in army gear ran at him guns blazing. Hank vaulted over the gun fire and delivered to solid feet to the heads of the soldiers, knocking them clear off their shoulders. That was a benefit to the Danger Room. The luxury of being able to go all out without hurting anyone else.
"Going to stay in there forever?" A voice said over the loudspeaker. Hank dodged a bullet and looked up to an area that always remains unchanged no matter the Danger Room setting. Looking out the observation window at him was Rock Summers.
"I might." Hank called back. The setting and the soldiers faded. Hank decided rather then argue with Rock, he would go talk to him. That's what Rock wanted, and perhaps its was Hank finally needed to do.
Rock stood behind the exit door with arms folded as Hank walked out. Rock threw him a towel. Hank caught it with an oversized hand and proceeded to get some of the sweat off of his body.
"Worked out your problems?" Rock asked.
"Not hardly." Hank replied.
"I didn't think so. I don't know if any of us will."
"But you seem like you have."
"Nah." Rock smirked a bit. "That's what I let you all see. Maybe I can motivate you to be stronger."
"For all my brains I could never fathom this happening." Hank said. "The Professor was everything to us. Father, brother, friend, teacher, leader. He was going to prove to the world out there that mutants can help mankind." He continued. "I relished everyday being a part of that plan."
"Me too. He did so much for us."
"So why did someone do that to him?" Hank asked. "I mean I thought the anti-mutant groups were stupid, but outright assassination? Of such a pivatol figure?"
"Seems like you are answering your own question there Hank. The Professor was a modern day Martin Luther King, Jr. He scared so many people. This was the way to deal with him." Hank stopped.
"But this scares me Rock. How am I going to deal without him?"
*
Warren Worthington III landed on the rooftop of the Times Square Building. It was taped off at all entrances by police. A few were stationed outside to turn away any unwanted visitors to the crime scene. Warren knew that the roof was probably not going to be guarded. No one exactly suspects someone to fly down from the sky to get inside a building. Warren crept along the roof to a side of the building with another building close by. He floated down between the two and found a window. It wasn't locked, allowing Warren to half fly, half climb in.
The inside of the building was left much the way it was earlier in the day when the shooting happened. He saw the stage where everyone sat. The special podium made for the professor in his wheelchair. The chalk outline of the Professor's body on the floor from when it was thrown back out of the chair from the shot. That was the place to start looking. Warren would try to find the probably place of the shooter and look for any clues he may have left there.
Warren glided downward to the stage. He knealt down and ran his fingers along the chalk line. His mind flashed back to the Professor's still body there. The screams from the crowd. He turned and looked upward. He spotted several locations on the catwalk above that could have been used for a sniper post. Warren decided to just check them all. He Flew to the closest one and dropped to the floor to look for clues. He brought a minature flashlight with him as most of the lights were off.
Warren flew to the second spot and found nothing there as well. He was about to rise to his feet and spread his wings when he heard a noise. Warren quickly killed his light and held his breath hoping to hear the sound again and discern a direction. To his delight, another sound was heard. An audible curse. Warren looked and saw a figure dressed in black roaming around one of the other spots. Warren rose high into the air, settling over this new comers head.
"Where is that dam shell casing? Shouldn't have lost it but my only escape was in that initial mob of people."
"Shell casing…" Warren said to himself.
The man bent down and his hand gripped something. He examined it closely and gave a noise of satisfaction. Warren was awe-struck for a moment having the shooter return to the scene of the crime. He decided not to let this go to waste and promptly swooped down on the man. Much to the man's surprise Warren grabbed him by the collar and lifted him in the air.
"What the hell?" The man said. His voice was a tad muffled up close given the ski mask he was wearing.
"You shot Professor Xavier!" Warren said.
"Let me go you mutie scum!" The man screamed.
He began squirming around, trying to break free of Warren's grip. Warren wasn't trying to hard to keep a hold of him and did infact let go. The man fell screaming until he managed to reach out and latch onto catwalk railing. Warren listened for a moment to see if the man's screaming had attracted any police attention. Satisfied it did not, Warren took another dive at the man. He let go of the railing and crashed into a table below him breaking it in half. The man quickly kicked the remains off of him and bolted towards the nearest door. Warren went to follow but noticed something on the floor. Upon closer examination Warren found it to be the shell casing. He looked back at the door the man went out of and contemplated following.
"He may have a car and be long gone. But with this, maybe it could be a step towards finding that son of a bitch. Zeke was right about one thing. I will be Professor X's golden boy, because I will find out who did this to him. And I will be his Avenging Angel."
Bold words from Warren Worthington. Huh? Will he make them come to fruition? Will the others get involved? What will become of all the inhabitants of the mansion?