Truth is Overrated: I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.

Disclaimer: The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movement. I simply like to toy with them.

"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg

~Chapter Thirty-Six~

"Don't smell nothin'."

"Isn't that, I don't know, a little weird?" Jubilee inquired as we stalked through a corridor quietly.

Wolverine, with his enhanced abilities, led our group through the abandoned military base. Wicks and St. Croix had taken up positions outside near the fenced perimeter of the building. Outfitted with earbuds, we could communicate with one another with absolute ease. Storm followed Wolverine closely, but I feared that if there were many lower levels that she might need to escape outside to the fresh air. Jubilee slapped my forearm and smiled at me in the dimly lit corridor, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure that both Iceman and Pyro were close behind.

The others had remained at the Institute for one reason or other but, for the most part their purpose was to protect the students and the Institute itself from harm. While everyone on every single X-Men roster had volunteered, Wolverine had wisely kept the team small. Still, I couldn't help but silently wish that we'd had more numbers as we crept through the former military base.

On the short flight over, Wicks had been the man designated to tell us more about the military base. It was, according to SHIELD intel, formerly used primarily for storing munitions. It was constructed two years after World War I and then briefly retrofitted towards the tail end of the Cold War. Due to its smaller size and its poor location, the military had abandoned it not long after the United States had made peace with the then-Soviet Union. For the last odd number of years, it had been used off and on for ammunitions housing.

According to SHIELD intelligence it had been unused in the past fourteen or more months.

Wolverine held up a hand and made a fist and we ground to a halt behind him. My fingers flexed in agitation and I forced myself to remain focused on the task at hand. There was simply no time to think about the roiling force of despair and worry that broiled low in my gut. I couldn't think about the tense set of my shoulders or the way that my skin felt too tight; nor could I think about the way my pulse raced in spite of the slow and steady breaths I took.

When the Wolverine's shoulders lifted and then lowered slowly, I noted the visible tension in the man's back. If I was strung tight, he was on another level entirely. Though I knew he'd never admit it aloud, he was just as worried about Scott as he was about Vivian. He was a loner by nature, our Wolverine, but he'd become protective over everyone at the Institute.

Essex had screwed up royally by taking Jean and Scott, but he'd signed his own death certificate when he'd taken Vivian.

I balled my fists at my sides and relaxed them slowly, eyes scanning everything around us in a measured way. The sound of scuffing feet behind me caused me to glance over my shoulder in alarm. Iceman lifted a hand, signaling that he was fine, and he jabbed Pyro in the side. The two shared a quick look and then Pyro opened a door that the Wolverine had glanced in and deemed useless.

"I hear somethin'. Keep quiet," the gruff man warned in a low growl.

We moved together in a practiced rhythm, boots barely making a sound on the floor beneath our feet. When we exited a corridor and found ourselves suddenly in what appeared to be a cavernous room, I wondered how long we had been traveling underground. Had I even noticed the slant of the floor? How many feet underground was the ceiling of the room that we stood in?

Cautious, I cast a worried glance in Storm's direction and was relieved to see that she seemed unaffected by our predicament. The woman suffered from a severe case of claustrophobia that was most often activated whenever she was underground or trapped in dark, confining spaces. The dim lighting provided more than enough illumination to display the fact that cement ceiling was upwards of twenty feet above our heads – more than enough room to give the illusion of space.

"Spread out and search."

I glanced around and took note of the different pallets that were spread out in the room. It appeared to be used as a storehouse or a warehouse, and I could only assume that the tarps hid old ammunition or old military junk that they simply didn't need any longer. After a beat, I nodded my head and pointed to the left, held up two fingers, and Pyro and Iceman quickly moved towards the left side of the warehouse.

Jubilee and I immediately moved towards the right while Storm and Wolverine continued down the center of the large room. I took note of the three security doors on the east side of the room, where Jubilee and I walked between covered pallets.

When she lifted a hand to gain my attention, I paused and rocked by on my heels in consideration. She motioned to a tarp-covered object that stood at least twelve feet high and lifted a brow in query.

Your guess is as good as mine, I thought to myself with a frown. We didn't have time to overturn every single inch of the facility, but we would if we didn't find some sign of our missing friends. Jubilee tugged on the tarp slightly and a faintly metallic clinking sound caused me to narrow my eyes in suspicion. What have we here?

I lifted a hand and shoved it back and she took several steps back instantly and then eased herself behind another high-piled pallet of supplies. Once she had proper cover, I grabbed the tarp in front of me and felt the fabric rip in my grasp. Fingerless gloves allowed my bare fingers to slip through the plastic tarp, and I tightened my grasp before I tugged upwards and backwards.

As the plastic tarp ripped away and fell to the ground at my feet, I felt my entire body stiffen in response. My eyes narrowed in thought, I belatedly remembered to lift a balled fist in Jubilee's direction to remind her to stay in place.

It wasn't the first Sentinel that I'd seen up close, but it was most definitely the most sophisticated one that I'd personally viewed. Stomach clenched in anticipation, I scoured the surface of the chrome-colored monstrosity and slowly exhaled. The detail work was exquisite and the chassis was ideal for swift movement that wouldn't be hindered in most situations.

This screams SHIELD.

The muscles in my shoulders tightened and I took a step back when the slits in the helmet of the robotic Sentinel flickered to life. There was a faint humming sound, something similar to an older computer booting up for the first time in a long time, and the Sentinel's head rotated slightly.

"Wolverine..."

I heard him grunt over the coms before he cleared his throat. "Got a faint hit, but she's here. Viv's here."

I took another step back and the Sentinel mimicked my movements, stalking forward in a way that reminded me of the fluid ingenuity created by none other than Tony Stark. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I waved my hand at Jubilee and eyed the Sentinel warily.

"That's all well and good, but we need to get out of here. Now."

There was a short silence before Iceman's voice came over the coms. "I located a blocked off room. It looks like it was some sort of a break room, maybe a kitchen of sorts." He inhaled sharply and I winced when the Sentinel's glowing eyes seemed to roll around in all directions as it surveyed the area. "Vivian is alive. I repeat: Vivian is alive."

Far-off, I heard the sound of heavy footfalls and knew without a doubt that the Wolverine had barreled off in the direction of where Iceman had located Vivian. Storm cursed over the coms and I heard Jubilee's boots scuff against the concrete, but I kept my attention on the Sentinel in front of me.

"Wicks. St. Croix. Come in." Five seconds passed before I repeated the command, but there was no reply. "You sons of bitches better answer me."

A masculine chuckle echoed over the coms and I felt a bead of sweat trail down between my shoulder blades in response. My entire body was tensed for a fight and a terrible sinking feeling warned me that I was going to be in for one hell of a fight.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure your friends back at the School are safe. Bye, Evans."

I cursed under my breath and silently wondered if Baxter St. Croix had slit Wicks' throat or if the second man had been in on the plan the whole time. Either way, St. Croix had achieved his goal: we were probably between thirty and forty feet underground and surrounded by Sentinels. In essence, we were trapped.

"Regroup on Wolverine's location!" I barked over the coms. Frustration and adrenaline fueled my rage, and I didn't hesitate to place one hand on the Sentinel's shoulder before I plunged my right fist in the center of its chest. The robotic eyes flickered and I smelled something acidic in the air, possibly oil and other mechanical bits frying, before it went still. "On the double! Right fucking now!"

I yanked my fist out of the Sentinel's chest and grunted under my breath before I used my superhuman strength to rip its head from its torso. Wires exposed, fluid sprayed in the air, and I threw the robotic head down at the concrete floor with gusto. Once it struck and bounced, leaving several cracks in its place, I turned on my heel and started towards Jubilee.

As the facility around us began to hum, I tucked her under one arm, shielding her body with my own, and pushed up off of the floor angrily. We sailed through the air sharply, ducking and weaving around Sentinels as the tarps began to flutter quietly to the ground. I heard Storm somewhere to my left and smelled the ozone in the air before something bright flashed in the corner of my vision. A few moments later, I dropped down to land on my feet just inside the room where the others waited. Storm landed behind me and I gruffly let Jubilee down.

I turned to shout orders and my words died in my throat when my gaze fell on Vivian. Eyes wide in horror, I took a shaky step towards her and ignored the violent growl that rumbled out of the Wolverine when I stopped only a few feet from where he held her to his chest. Jeans, boots, and a shirt were barely recognizable beneath varying colors of blood. Some was browner, older, but much of it was very, very red. One of her eyes was swollen shut, the other was bloodshot. Her nose was crooked, her right cheek bleeding and possibly fractured.

The familiar marks on her legs, her arms, and her torso made me fall wordlessly to my knees. Her eyes, the eyes of the woman that had taken me under her wing when Logan had left with Creed to rediscover his past, stared at me with such undisguised pain that I felt wholly exposed. She opened her mouth to speak and blood dribbled out, spilling down her chin and jaw.

Wolverine growled and cleaned the blood from her mouth with bare hands and gently tipped her head back to offer her water. Given her healing ability, I knew that Vivian would recover with time. Considerable time, I assumed, based on how shallow her breaths were and the fact that she held her body so stiffly. Other than the obvious injuries - including the deep gouges across her arms, legs, and torso, she likely had several broken bones.

I didn't even realize that I was breathing heavily until Storm's hand squeezed my shoulder. I reached up and placed my hand over hers without even considering my actions, but couldn't say anything as I staggered to my feet.

"They ain't here. She must have been expendable," Wolverine muttered, spittle escaping with the violence of his words. "She ain't in no shape to talk."

Which meant that she also wasn't in any sort of shape to help us get out of the facility, which was the first obstacle at hand. I turned and nodded at Storm and she exhaled slowly. While Iceman, Pyro, and Wolverine hadn't seen what the pallets outside hid, Storm had. And she looked as nervous as I felt.

"There's no telling how much time we have, so I'll be brisk," I murmured, unaware of how hard and angry my voice sounded until I played the words back in my head. I kicked the door shut and glared at the wall between us and the rest of the facility fiercely. "How many pallets would you guess were in there?"

"About thirty," Iceman offered without hesitation. Given his propensity for math, I took him at his word. "They bailed on us?"

I nodded once and exhaled slowly. "There are Sentinels out there, presumably all hidden under tarps. I took out one and so did Storm," I offered, basing my intel on what I had viewed. When Storm didn't counter my assessment, I shook my head. "St. Croix and Wicks are gone, likely having set this up from the beginning. I don't want to consider those repercussions. Let's get the hell out of here before we decide how to rip their balls off."

"I thought that Sentinel production was halted."

"So did I, Jubes." Given the number of facilities that the SRU had raided since I'd joined its ranks, it all made a little too much sense. But, I couldn't put all of the pieces together and examine the large puzzle from afar - there simply was not the time. There was only time for action. "How far below the surface are we?"

"Thirty-plus feet. Ain't that far."

"A facility like this, there aren't many exit points. I only saw one other than the one we used to get down here, and it's unlikely that Wicks and St. Croix left it as a viable option. So, we're going with plan B."

Pyro dragged his hand through his hair, leaving the dark locks standing on end, and shook his head. While he had a fiery temper, Pyro had a tendency to excel under pressure. "That would be?"

I spun around in a circle and glanced up and pointed towards the ceiling. Some twelve to fifteen feet up was a large air duct. "Cliché, maybe, but this is a main one. Should lead us straight up."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Start digging, Iceman. In the meantime, we need to clean this place up. I've got an idea, but it isn't going to be pretty. Tell me, Cyclops-lite," I sneered, but my heart ached at the mere mention of Scott's codename. The man had made my life hell as a student, but I'd grown to respect him as a leader and as a friend. I pushed the worry down and cocked my head towards the closed door. "How do we ground ourselves?"

There was silence for several moments before Jubilee, of all people, shook her head. "No offense, chica, but there's not a chance in hell of doing that in here. Our best bet would be, I don't know, finding an old shaft. All concrete, maybe lead. No pipes or electrical whatsoever."

Iceman jerked his thumb towards the wall opposite the door with a nod. "The plans showed an empty, and abandoned, storage room there. They stored the more dangerous stuff in there. Walls are somewhere around three feet thick."

In spite of the fact that he was emotionally challenged and defeated, Wolverine only hesitated for a moment when I motioned for him to rise to his feet. I nodded a the wall in question and he shook his head for a moment before he cast one last glance at Vivian and started on the task at hand.

The sound of adamantium scraping against concrete is something indescribable, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I dropped down to a crouch in front of Vivian and met her tired gaze levelly. "Wolverine is going to make us a nice door into that concrete room. While Storm let's it rip, the rest of us are going to sit snug and secure. How long to work up one hell of a lightning storm?" I inquired with a quick glance over my shoulder.

There were beads of sweat on her brow and upper lip, but Storm straightened her shoulders and inclined her head regally. Belatedly, I realized that she struggled with the concept of being so far underground, but there simply was not time to address her phobia.

"Only a few minutes if I work quickly," she assured me with a slow nod. "But, it may knock out all electronics here in this facility."

"I'm not worried about that. We'll find our way out." I didn't feel as confident as I sounded, but I knew without a doubt that we, as a group, would do whatever necessary to get out. Wolverine worked swiftly and it was only a few more moments before there was a rough outline of a square shape in the wall. "Storm, we'll give you five minutes. If you're in the clear sooner, let us know."

Rushed and anxious, I scooped Vivian up in my arms gently and ignored Wolverine's angry growl as I hurried towards the square outline in the wall. Shuffling Vivian into his arms, I thrust my fingers into the concrete on either side of the outline and grunted when I felt it give way. It took considerable effort, but Wolverine's rough outline was enough to ensure that the huge block of concrete gave way in mostly one piece. Shards and chips of concrete fell to the ground at my feet as I stepped through the hole, slab of concrete in hand.

Surrounded by the darkness, I closed my eyes for a moment and fought back unexpected panic before the room began to twinkle. I opened my eyes and met Jubilee's gaze briefly before I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. The others filed into the small space and I examined the walls, the ceiling, and the floor only briefly before I walked back to the hole in the wall.

Though she was still troubled, physically strained, Storm nodded her head solemnly as I slid the hunk of concrete into place. Ensconced in silence, with only the lighting provided by Jubilees pafs to guide us, I pressed the palms of my hands against the concrete and closed my eyes.

I braced the concrete slab in place and tried to ignore the soft whispers that Vivian and Logan exchanged, but I heard bits and pieces in spite of my best effort. Even with my eyes closed I found myself vividly picturing the nasty wounds that littered her body. Unbidden, Kitty's injuries flashed through my mind and I felt my stomach twist angrily in response.

My eyes burned, but I stubbornly refused to allow a single tear to fall. Sooner or later, I knew, the final puzzle piece would fall into place. But, until then, I made a silent vow to myself to push all personal conflictions and feelings aside.

"Dani? Danielle."

I felt the hand on my shoulder, but it took me a few moments to realize that the others were gathered behind me in a loose semi-circle. My shoulders sagged forward for a brief moment before I pushed them back and straightened to my full height. Jubilee took a step back and I pulled the concrete slab out of its little door, barely blinking when it tumbled noisily to the floor at my feet.

The air smelled burnt, like walking on site of an arson investigation while the structure is still warm. Heavy smoke clung to the floor and walls, and it parted in a wispy curtain to display a regal woman with piercing white-silver eyes and flowing hair.

"It is done," Storm murmured, her hands falling to rest at her sides as her eyes slowly returned to their bright blue color. She was obviously drained, but she appeared to have not been damaged whatsoever. "The facility is free of them now."

I walked into the connecting room, nodded at Storm, and rose up several feet in order to be able to reach the ceiling. While the HVAC system was old, it had been installed with the intention of keeping airflow regulated. Which meant that it was large and would, hopefully, feed directly to the surface.

Using my superior strength, I tore the rusting metal covering out of place and dropped it on the ground. Angry dust bunnies and cobwebs stared back at me as I peered up into the air shaft, but it looked otherwise intact.

"Johnny, do us all a favor, would you?" I inquired as I dropped back down to land on solid ground.

Though he lifted a brow in query, he willingly stepped towards me and stared up into the air shaft. His uniform was uniquely designed, courtesy of Bedlam, Hank McCoy, and Kitty, and equipped with built-in small-scale flamethrower. He could control flame, but unfortunately could not create it.

I grimaced and looked away when he shot a fiery spray of controlled flame up into the air shaft. Cobwebs and any other unwanted critters were immediately decimated, but the temperature of the flame wasn't high enough to damage the metal construction whatsoever. Once he'd finished assisting, Pyro took a quick step back and cocked his head knowingly in Iceman's direction.

"Go ahead and cool it down," I suggested off-handedly. Iceman nodded in agreement and blew a blast of cool air up into the air shaft in order to lower the temperature of the metal. "At this point, our best option is to get out of here as quickly as possible. Chain gang?"

"Get Viv out first, kid. You and Storm make sure we got a clean path, then you come back and get the rest of us."

I shot Wolverine a warning glance, a reminder that we didn't have time, but noticed Vivian's battered form in his arms and grimaced. She peered up at me, one eye swollen shut and the other open a bare sliver, and I slowly nodded.

"Load her up," I murmured, blankly meeting the gaze of the Wolverine with as much courage as I could muster. When he pressed a gentle kiss to across her forehead, ignoring the bloody scrapes, I tried to pretend that I didn't notice how caring and affectionate the dangerous Wolverine could be. She smiled at him, weakly, her split lower lip oozing blood slowly as he transferred her into my grasp. "Can you hold onto me at all?"

Though it obviously pained her, Vivian slowly lifted an arm and looped it loosely around my neck. It wouldn't hold her weight if she were to be jostled, but it gave me complete freedom with my right arm and allowed me to balance her weight in my left.

I offered the others a quick nod in farewell and shot up into the air shaft with my right arm outstretched, palm flat in case I came against any obstacle. Only a few feet below me as I made my ascent, Storm muttered a hurried prayer to the Goddess for her safety and I sent up a silent prayer of my own as we traversed the air shaft.

Two alternate courses later, no worse for wear, I kicked a large industrial fan out of my way and walked out onto the dark grounds of the abandoned military facility. I frowned and glared up at the sun overhead, but was surprised by the realization that St. Croix and Wicks had left the outside of the facility alone.

"Could they even disable the X-Jet?" I inquired, more so to myself than to Storm. In order to give her a moment to regain her composure, I kept my gaze focused on the dry grass and uneven gravel ground and barely noticed her retrieve a small key fob from one of the many slim pockets hidden in her uniform. The air seemed to shimmer for a few seconds before the X-Jet came into sight. "Nice trick. I forgot about that one."

We checked the perimeter to ensure that we were truly alone before Storm engaged the electronic mechanism that caused the rear cargo door to ease open with a hydraulic hiss. I glanced over my shoulder towards where we had emerged from the trap that had been laid for us before I slowly climbed the ramp.

Vivian moaned and released a soft sound reminiscent of a wounded animal. With one eye completely swollen shut, she struggled to open the other to meet my gaze. My gaze raked over her broken form quickly before I tamped down the blinding rage and frustration and I managed a reassuring smile that was completely false.

Storm motioned me to the rear of the jet where the X-Men kept medical supplies that suited the needs of their dangerous line of work. While Storm eased down the folding examining table that was bolted into the wall, I eyed the different screens and machines before I eased Vivian down onto the sanitized surface of the examining table.

"Get a line in her and start her on some fluids. Do what you can to dress her more obvious wounds." I met the stormy blue eyes of Ororo Munroe and felt a stab of regret at the mental anguish I saw staring back at me. While I wasn't the perpetrator behind the nefarious acts, I still felt responsible. I lifted my hand to squeeze her arm in reassurance, but hesitated and instead shoved a few stray strands of hair off of my forehead. "I'll be back with the others in just a few minutes. Get her cleaned up as best as you can before we lock the Wolverine in a flying death trap."

Once I no longer had to concern myself with worsening Vivian's injuries, I was able to take off at full speed back the way that I had come. Face-first, I flew back down the air shaft and barely managed to slow my descent in time to keep from hitting the floor below. I gained my balance and rose to my full height and exhaled slowly.

"I can get myself up. You worry about these two. I'll be right behind you," Iceman assured me with a nod.

Since time was of the essence, I didn't hesitate to rise up into the air. But, Wolverine and Pyro did. "Grab on, Logan. I don't have time for this."

After a moment of serious growling, he grabbed me around my calves and tightened his grip. Once he was secure, I rose higher into the air shaft until I felt the additional weight that signified that Pyro had latched onto Wolverine. Satisfied that they were reasonably secure, I rocketed up through the air shaft forcefully, causing both men's curses to echo in the metal shaft around us.

"I used to think that it would be cool to fly, you know. Now, I'll stick to walking." Pyro stumbled sideways before he regained his balance. Having just landed a few moments before, I silently gave him credit for the ability to make light of the situation after he'd dropped to the ground. "Maybe next time I'll take Bobby's popsicle to new heights."

Bobby emerged from the air shaft then and simply shook his tousled blond head. "You say that like you haven't before, Johnny," he teased, grinning until he seemed to suddenly recall the somber situation. Jubilee, who had ridden with Bobby, grinned knowingly and offered Pyro two thumbs up. But, Bobby was troubled by his own words. His expression pained, he straightened his shoulders and nodded his head once. "I'll try to hail the Institute on the emergency line."

Wolverine, already aboard and focusing his full attention on Vivian, didn't spare me a glance as I climbed aboard just behind Pyro. Storm and Iceman, pilot and copilot, sat at the controls and were ready for takeoff. I found myself simply standing, fear bubbling inside of me, as the cargo door hummed closed.

"They're not responding at the Institute."

Numbly, I dropped down into a seat and stared at the back of Bobby's head. The X-Jet shifted and then began to rise into the air steadily. With Storm's practiced hand at the controls, take off was smooth and uncomplicated. But, the tense mood within the jet was anything but uncomplicated.

By silent agreement, we all remained quiet and introspective as the jet was pushed to its limits. Turbulence caused a lot of disturbance and, quite possibly, discomfort for our injured passenger. But, time was of the essence.

If we had been so easily led blindly into a trap, was it even possible that the others had avoided such a fate?