The Singing Duck (1) Nothing wrong with a critical eye. The button says "Review," not "Hug Author" and I take all kinds of feedback gladly. I was definitely intending for the Erik portion to be unsettling and that's not everyone's cup of tea. Mainly, I wanted to give a run-down of what Scott was experiencing, but it wasn't nearly enough for its own chapter, so I thought I would counterpoint it with another tale of fuckedup!Erik. (2) With regard to calling all of you "motherfuckers," I have a confession to make: Deep down, I am Alex Summers. Not just in the sense of overusing profanity, but also in the sense of having a space pirate for a father and being portrayed by the estimable Lucas Till.

Charlotte – (1) Maybe I'm both, gradually driving myself mad with an increasingly intricate web of self-deceptions. (2) Here's a hint, if your sentence begins, "I wonder if Erik will be able to form a good relationship with...", the answer is no. (3) Yeah, LOST kicked ass. I believe I've mentioned that I think Fassbender looks a lot like the guy who played Richard Alpert and this has resulted in some bizarre cross-pollination in my mind.

magnusrae(1) I must admit I find it odd that you initially had a bad feeling about Shaw's "reward," as this implies that your bad feeling abated when you found out that he was offering a young adolescent the opportunity and means to murder. (2) I don't believe comic!Scott ever had a stutter. In the Children of the Atom origin story, Scott is anxious and socially withdrawn and he stammers a bit when intimidated, but he doesn't have a neurological stutter. (3) Almost every incarnation of Scott Summers annoys the fuck out of me.


Charles looked at the drawing. Where their witness had been unclear, Erik had lightly sketched several possibilities one right over the other, resulting in a sort of hazy composite sketch. The face looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. Alex was pacing back and forth. Erik looked blank, unreadable. Charles heard a low growl and turned his head to see Hank staring down at the sketch, eyes narrowed.

"That's William Stryker!" said Hank. "That's the guy that took your brother?"

"Yeah, that's him. His name's Stryker?" Alex was speaking very quickly. He had the manner of a shaken soda can ready to burst.

Hank shook his head, but he said "Yes, he's, um, he's one of the military brass."

"Yes," said Charles, snapping his fingers. "I remember him now."

Hank shook his head again. "He's...um, well..." Although Hank was naturally shy, reticence looked unnatural on his new, powerful form.

"Tell me what you know about him, goddamnit." Alex looked as though he were about to grow claws himself.

"Alex, sit down." Erik pushed him down into a chair by the shoulder.

"I don't know his rank, but he's high up. He's...sometimes the military guys would go to the R&D sector where I worked with an idea for something they wanted built or they wanted to see if it was feasible. You know, like a radio-controlled low-earth-orbit camera or something. But Stryker, he had these ideas that were just...unconscionable. Like, could we develop a poison that he could put in a water supply so that everyone who drank the water would be permanently sterilized? Or, could we damage someone's brain so they would be completely unable to sleep?"

"Where is he normally stationed?" asked Erik, speaking before Alex could get a word in.

"Fort Benning," said Hank. "It's in Georgia, I've been there a couple of times to set up satellite relays."

"So that's where we go next." Alex's legs were bouncing, like he was trying to run in place while sitting down.

"But this guy's crazy, Hank said so," said Sean. "This can't be official military business, to go around kidnapping kids."

"I didn't say he was crazy," replied Hank. "I said he's evil. I think he's very much in control of his faculties."

Erik inhaled sharply. "I think going to the base is a logical next step. If Stryker isn't there, we might find clues to where he is." He pulled out his wallet and handed Sean several bills. "Alex, I want you and Sean to go to military surplus stores and buy several sets of fatigues. I want knives, too, if you can get them without being conspicuous. Hank, I want you to draw maps of everything you remember about the base. Where each building is, what's inside of it, anything you remember about the security systems. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Go," he said.

They went.


It was understandable, Charles thought, that they should look to Erik for leadership. It was a time of war (sort of). Whereas Charles was a scholar, Erik was a warrior (sort of). Nonetheless, he felt conflicted. On the one hand, he was proud of his friend, pleased to see Erik use his intensity to lead and join, but on the other hand, it was worrisome. Erik's brain was a sort of minefield. Certain things set him off and many of these things were strange and unpredictable even to Charles, who felt he knew Erik better than anyone else. There was no need for telepathy, or even interpersonal insight, however, to guess that Erik might be powerfully affected by the thought of a young mutant held captive and possibly mistreated. Erik as he was currently made a fine leader, but Erik when they got to the military base might not be.

Charles peered down into the open briefcase. "Erik," he asked, "why did you bring chloroform to Nebraska?"

Erik was looking at an atlas. "You're coming with us to Georgia," he said.

"That didn't at all answer my question."

"It wasn't meant to."

Charles opened his mouth as if to speak, then decided to let the matter go.

"I don't think we should fly. I'm the only one with fake identification documents and flying forces us to leave a paper trail."

"So you're going to drive to Georgia? How long will that take?"

"About eighteen hours. If we leave first thing in the morning, we'll be able to enter the base at night."

"I take it you have a plan?"

"Plan is a strong word." Erik smirked.

"How is Alex holding up?"

"Better than expected. He didn't start any fires."

"We set the bar rather low, don't we?" said Charles.

Erik gave a short laugh.

"How are you holding up?"

"Charles, we're not going to play this game right now." Erik turned back to look him in the eye. "I haven't forgotten our oath."

Charles nodded reluctantly. "So what's the plan?"

Erik closed the atlas. "Well, the specifics depend on Hank's maps, but generally, I think the idea is that Sean, Alex, and I will go onto the base. You're going to be a few miles away, shielding us from being noticed. Hank will stay with you in case you need defense."

"Who's going to stay here with the kids?"

Erik shrugged. This had not entered into his plan. "They're what, twelve? They'll be fine for a few days. And there's Lyle."

"They're eleven. Hank can stay here. I'm fairly proficient with a rifle now."

Erik tilted his head to the side. "As I understand it, Charles, you can sometimes hit a two-foot wide stationary target at thirty meters. That's not proficient." He paused. "If you want to leave Hank here, we could bring Petra."

"We're not bringing Petra."

"She wouldn't be in combat. Her field would slow any humans down, giving you time to do your thing." Erik tapped a finger to his temple to indicate telepathy.

"She can't understand what's at stake so she can't truly consent to participate."

"It's her war too, whether she knows it or not."

"It's exploitative. We're not bringing Petra." Charles sighed. "We'll bring Hank. Lyle can watch the twins." He looked at Erik. "Which is what you wanted in the first place. Because Hank has been on the base before."

"I assumed you could relay information back and forth between us and him."

"I can. In fact, it might be best if I relay amongst all of you. If you don't speak and you walk softly, I only have to block vision, not hearing."

"And it lets you keep a hold on my mind."

"Don't be paranoid, Erik, it doesn't suit you."

"Can you make Alex start not-speaking before the eighteen-hour car trip?"

"That's what the chloroform was for, wasn't it?" Erik's grin was an admission of guilt. "Please be kind to him, Erik. He may not look like it, but he's genuinely frightened."

"Believe me," said Erik. "I have been extraordinarily tolerant."


Charles and Erik lay in bed, Erik too excited to sleep, Charles too nervous.

"Is Sean really ready for this?"

Erik scoffed. "He's fine. He's hungry for it," he added, sounding almost fond.

Charles did not necessarily believe that enthusiasm for paramilitary operations was a trait to be celebrated, but he held his tongue. He was doing that an awful lot lately.

"Are you ready for this, Charles?"

"Hm?"

"We're not going to go in there and slaughter people, but we are going to defend ourselves. I need to know you're not going to interfere."

"You understand that, even if taking the boy was an officially sanctioned action, most of the men on that base don't even know about it."

"I'm fine with that. The plan is stealth. But I believe in backup plans."

"I'm not going to take over your mind, Erik. We agree on the goal. The priority is getting the boy back."

Erik said nothing.

"Erik, understand, I wish I believed in hell so I could be confident that Stryker would burn forever, but-"

"I'm not going to murder anyone." Erik interrupted, sounding annoyed. "I'll keep my word."

Charles reached across the bed and took Erik's hand, even though it tensed. This was not often permitted. "I know you are a man of honor." He traced small circles with his thumb. "You needn't worry, Erik. I'll keep my word as well."

Erik exhaled slowly and softly. He curled his fingers downward until they just made contact with the back of Charles' hand. Then he removed his hand and rolled onto his side, facing away. "Good night," he said.

"Good night," echoed Charles. "Go to sleep, Erik."

Erik slept.

Charles did not.


People Get Ready – The Impressions: People Get Ready (1965).