"So you're saying they took Raven's power and what? They weaponized it?" Charles asks, once we're all sat around his study. It took him a while to get over his pouting session.
"She is unique," Hank offers.
"Look, in the beginning, the Sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began to identify the genetics in non-mutants who would eventually have mutant children and grandchildren. Many of the humans tried to help us. It was a slaughter, leaving only the worst of humanity in charge," the guy who still hasn't introduced himself says. If I start calling him Hugh then that's on him. "I've been in a lot of wars, I'd never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her."
"Well, let's just say that for the sake of...the sake that I choose to believe you, that I choose to help you—Raven won't listen to me. No, her heart and soul belong to someone else now."
"I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto, too," he says sending Charles into a laughing fit.
"Erik? You do know where he is, right?" Hank asks.
"Why not just kill Trask before she can get to him?" I muse. My more favored option is just killing Raven and disposing of her body before anyone in the scientific community is aware. I have a feeling I won't win that argument though and I'd rather not have to fight with the only friendly's I know here.
"You'll still cause a scene and won't actually change anything," he says shutting me down.
"You'd be surprised," I contradict with a smirk that usually gets me scolded.
"We need Erik," he continues like I hadn't said anything at all.
"Erik is where he belongs," Charles states angrily.
"What so you're just going to walk out?"
"Oh, top marks—like I said, you are perceptive," Charles says to him rather sarcastically.
"The professor I know would never turn his back on someone who lost their path. Especially someone he loved."
"You know...I think I do remember you now. Yeah, we came to you a long time ago seeking your help. And I'm gonna say to you what you said to us then. Fuck off."
"My respect for Professor Hermit Man is growing," I tell Hank as we watch the interaction.
"Listen to me, you little shit. I've come a long way and I've watched a lot of people die. Good people. Friends. If you're gonna wallow in self-pity and do nothing, then you're gonna watch the same thing, you understand?"
"We all have to die sometime," Charles says softly, I smile behind my hand.
"Told you there was no professor here," Hank tells him.
"What happened to him?" I ask.
"He lost everything. Erik, Raven, his legs. We built the school, the labs, this whole place. Then, just after the first semester, the war in Vietnam got worse. Many of the teachers and students got drafted. I mean, it broke him. He retreated into himself. I wanted to help, do something, so I designed a serum to treat his spine—you know derived from the same formula that helps me control my mutation. I take just enough to keep myself balanced, but he takes too much. I tried easing him back, but he just couldn't beat the pain, the voices. The treatment gives him his legs, but it's not enough. He's...he's just lost too much."
"You mind sharing that formula? I've got a friend like you that could probably use it," I tell Hank.
"Who are you?" The other guys asks.
"I'm Beth. I was fighting an alien on a planet very faraway and got sent here to a different universe in 1973. I landed about five minutes before you got here. Who are you?"
"Logan."
"Now, where is this Erik guy?" I ask, shifting the subject back to the more pressing issue.
"The Pentagon," Hank responds. I laugh.
"Wow I wish Tony were here. Actually yeah, do you guys have Stark Industries in this universe?"
"No."
"Too bad, he would've helped with this. He's probably super super young though."
"I'll help you get her," Charles's voice rings out. "Not for any of your...future shite, but for her."
"Fair enough," Logan allows.
"But I'll tell you this—you don't know Erik. That man is a monster, a murderer, you think you can convince Raven to change? To come home? That's splendid. But what makes you think you can change him?"
"Because you and Erik sent me back here together," Logan declares.
"Right…" I state when no one speaks. "Let's get into it then."
XxX
The armor came off in pieces. It very obviously wasn't supposed to. There were failsafes built in though, it warmed my heart that Tony—or Friday, considered what would happen if the suit lost energy. After some poking and prodding, we figured out how to detach the armor in pieces.
Hank helped where he could. His largest contribution however was declining to run any amount of energy through the suit. He didn't want to risk my life on something that may not work. No one ever believes me when I tell them I am always considering my health and safety.
"Hank, I can't carry this with me, so obviously I have to leave it here. If I am unable to return for it, keep in mind that it is from not only the distant future, but a future very unlike yours," I warn him. "This is something you might not be meant to understand."
"I'll try not to touch it," he states, biting his lip. Despite the tick, I know he means it.
"Besides, it might figure out you aren't me and do something extreme."
"You're talking like the suit has intelligence," he points out, wonder replacing the wariness on his face.
"Tony has a way with robotics. He wasn't able to give me the full run down on this suit but it does include an AI program that will assess any possible threats. I can assume the suit is also biocoded to me. Might be powered by an arc reactor. Probably in the chest piece. I don't know much about that tech though." I don't include that the AI sounds like Humphrey Bogart. If he doesn't know Bogie I'll only get sad.
"I'll lock it up, it will be safe here. You should go get changed, bathroom is through there," he directs, sliding the armor into a locker before pointing off down the hall.
I press my lips into a small, tense, smile and then grab the change of clothes he found for me and go to the bathroom to shower and change. After cleaning off the blood and detangling my hair I get dressed and allow myself a moment of vanity. The outfit wasn't too bad. I hate the bell bottom jeans and I've never been a big fan of turtlenecks but it could be worse. At least with the turtleneck, no one would bring up the scars.
XxX
"What did he even do?" I ask as Charles complains about the difficulty of the prison break.
"He killed the president," Hank responds.
"Which one?" I ask with a frown.
"JFK."
"That makes no sense. Isn't he anti-government?" I respond trying to wrap my head around it. If Hydra had JFK assassinated, why would someone advocating against the government take the hit.
"He's a murderer, I don't really think that matters," Charles replies plainly.
"Because JFK was a hit ordered by Hydra and Hydra is with all the bad government dudes. Your boy Trask is probably involved."
"He killed JFK," Logan reiterates in shock which makes Charles laugh.
"What else explains a bullet miraculously curving through the air? Erik's always had a way with guns."
"The winter soldier," I add nonchalantly under my breath. This world makes no sense.
"You sure you want to carry on with this?" Charles asks smoothly.
"This is your plan, not mine."
"We need more help. Between the four of us by ourselves, we can't get in and out without maximum casualties," I muse.
"I may know a guy," Logan states. "Yeah, he'd be a young man now. Grew up outside of DC. He could get into anywhere—I just don't know how the hell we're gonna find him."
"Is Cerebro out of the question?" Hank asks Charles who doesn't meet his eyes. "We have a phone book."
"Who are we looking for?" I ask, crossing my fingers in hope that it's a familiar name.
"His name is Peter, Peter Maximoff."
"Quicksilver?" I confirm with a smirk. Logan nods. "He got a sister?"
"I don't know."
"He's dead in my universe, killed by a robot saving a kid and one of my friends. This will work," I murmur with a nod. Maybe we should keep him away from the sentinels though.
XxX
"So what can you do?" Logan asks as we drive from the airport to the Maximoff residence.
"Well it depends. Now I can create matter, generally I heal faster, and have enhanced strength and reflexes. Pretty sure I have a slow metabolism now too—not like we could ever measure it. It changes," I reply lazily.
"What do you mean, it changes?" Hank asks from the front seat.
"My main talent is that I'm horrible at dying," I state plainly, a smile creeping onto my face at their confusion. "Or really really good at it depending on how you look at it. Every single time I get killed I come back to life, usually with an ability or two related to how I died."
"Like, dead dead?" Logan clarifies.
"I don't know where you go so don't bother asking any life after questions."
"How did you find out?" Hank asks.
"Bad playground accident when I was five. I got impaled. Actually my brother said his father did it," I explain with a humorous detachment and a shrug. "The people at the hospital were confused enough that I was alive, then none of their needles could penetrate my skin and I started passing through things completely. I went on the run after some more unfortunate events around age nine. I've been killed in all sorts of ways if you're looking for a painful death I can help you pick. The last time I died was on a mission a month or two ago. I ended up starving to death so now I can create matter. Mostly food, the more natural the better, hence the apple."
"What does that mean then, that you'll cause a distraction?" Charles asks cautiously, referring to my proposed plan.
"Well, before we left, I made this," I respond, holding up a small set of wires connected to an exposed metal plate and a small power generator of Hank's creation. "I press this button and it will send enough current through me to stop my heart. Medical professionals will arrive just in time to clog up the way of the guards on their way to the kitchen. I'll be able to slip away in the chaos and join you on your way out. If everything works how it should, we'll be out with no further problems."
"Just as casual as that? You'll stop your heart and all our problems will be solved?" Charles asks dryly.
"Yes. The way I see it, we need time. This will get us the time we need."
"We're here," Logan says, grabbing the wheel from Charles.
"Alright, alright," Charles replies with an eyeroll.
"Let's go," I state, matching his actions and following Logan to the door. His future must be really horrific if he's as headset on the mission as he is. We could probably use someone like him back home, might ease some of the tension between Steve and Tony.
"What's he done now?" Ms Maximoff asks as soon as she opens the door. I cough to hide my laughter, catching a silver blur by the car. "I'll just write you a check for whatever he took."
"We just need to talk to him. He's not in any trouble from us," I ease her worries.
"Peter! The cops are here—again," she calls out, letting us in and leading us down to the basement.
"You guys still have Pink Floyd here, right?" I ask, catching sight of some music posters. "Thank god you do," I say in relief, answering my own question when I see Peter's shirt.
"What do you guys want? I didn't do anything. I've been here all day," Peter says, not staying in one place for any point in time at all and allowing his ping pong game to end.
"Just relax, Peter. We're not cops," Logan says calmly.
"Of course you're not cops. If you were cops you wouldn't be driving a rental car," he points out.
"How'd you know we've got a rental car?" Charles asks.
"He was checking us out while we spoke to his mother," I supply him, checking out the collection of stolen goods.
"I also had some time to kill so I went through your rental agreement—saw you're from out of town," Peter adds after pointing to me in agreement.
"Are you with the FBI?"
"Not currently but I'm keeping my options open," I respond leisurely as he steals Charles's wallet.
"What's with this gifted youngsters place?" Peter asks, finding a card in the wallet.
"That's an...old card," Charles protests before Peter drops his wallet for him to take back.
"So, Peter, we've got a mission, if you're up for it," I tell him only for him to zip past me and probably ignore me. Anger flares through me and I narrow my eyes. I hear Charles call him an asshole and I'm quick to agree.
"Fine then," I state clearly pulling some change that was in the jacket Charles gave me out and flipping the coin in the air. Peter came to catch it just to fuck with me but I was ready for him and slammed him onto the ping pong table. "Listen to what we have to say. Trust me, you'll be interested," I murmur before getting off of him before his shock wears off. He gets up slowly and gives me a wary look. If I hadn't caught him off guard I wouldn't have caught him at all—or kept him there. I'd rather not let him know that.
"Didn't see that coming?" I ask with a smirk, mocking the Quicksilver I knew. My good mood evaporates at my joke, a somberness taking over instead.
"So who are you, and what do you want?" Peter asks, moving back over to his arcade game. He's paying attention now though, the game keeps him at normal speed, helps him focus. Never for long though. All of the high scores aren't very high.
"We need your help, Peter," Logan begins.
"For what?"
"To break into a highly secured facility, and get someone out."
"Prison break?" Peter clarifies. "That's illegal you know."
"Well, only if you get caught," Logan says.
"You think you'll get caught?" I ask, pushing the right buttons to make him commit.
"What's in it for me?" He asks.
"You, you kleptomaniac, get to break into the pentagon," Charles answers, catching his attention.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Peter asks, seeming serious for the first time since we got here.
"'Cause we're just like you," Logan answers.
"Show him," Charles commands and Logan grows these three bone claws out of his knuckles.
"Gross," I state, having seen this for the first time.
"That's cool but like she said," Peter says with a non-committal nod.
"Then let's go over the plan," Charles commands.