A/N ~ I never get tired of reading the reviews, so a big shout out to Krazy Xanadu, Yma, UnknownSource, tenshiamanda, Remedy=Chill, hootild, ezrajade and Ambrosia. You guys are all worth your weight in virtual gold.
I had no idea Robyn's death would spark such a response in folks. Generally, people aren't all that bothered when OCs cop it, and it makes me feel all warm and snuggly inside that peeps would like her enough to mourn her. ^_^ So, morbid though it sounds, thanks for that.
*******************
Twentieth Fragment ~ 'Kings and Miracles'
*******************
Daisy ran out when she saw Logan and Kurti approaching with Robyn held in Kurti's arms.
Robyn was very, *very* still.
Daisy's heart dropped to her lower bowel, and she suddenly felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She'd seen that kind of stillness before, when the sickness ravaged her hometown and turned her own family against her. "Is she...?" she asked, hoping she was mistaken.
Kurti nodded, throat bobbing and jaw tight.
No. That was *wrong*. Her very first and younger sister *had* to be okay. Anything else was just wrong. "No," she said, whispering. Then again, firmer, "*No*!"
"Daisy - " Logan began.
"*NO*!" Daisy screamed. Her eyes spurted tears, and her fists clenched by her sides. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't *let* it happen!
And then something was happening inside her, and it made her head hurt and everything feel wobbly.
And she knew. She *knew* that there was someone who could help. And she *knew* where that someone was. And she wanted that person here. She *had* to be here...
There was a near-concussive blast of air, and abruptly a small child was standing amongst them. She was five, if she was a day; an angel in human form, short only her pinkie fingers and toes, and clad in a simple shift for a dress.
"Broken," said the newcomer, and reached out to touch Robyn's motionless little form. Then she shut her eyes.
"Logan?" said Daisy. "You need to touch her shoulder. You donate your energy by touchin' 'er. She... she uses spiritual energies from... from donors to heal..." How did she know that? Daisy wasn't sure. She just did. Just like she knew she'd brought this person here. Just like she knew she knew exactly where the little angel had come from. Someplace in the sky...
Kurti seized the newcomer's arm without a second thought, startling Daisy back to Earth. "Heal her. Take everything. Just heal her."
Logan placed his hand on the child's shoulder. "Ditto."
A diamond pause. The angel frowned, concentrating.
Robyn gasped; a shuddering, laboured breath.
Then another.
And another.
Breath by breath, her breathing was easier. All traces of death slid away, replaced by life. Feverish life, but life nonetheless.
Blood dripped from the healer's nose, dotting her nice white dress. Yet she maintained her air of unnerving serenity.
She opened her eyes. "Fixed," she said, looking tired. She turned to Daisy. "I need to go back."
Daisy nodded once, and the same concussive blast reversed itself.
Then she fell down. So tired. So very tired. Her vision swam, and her feet seemed too small to balance on.
Logan caught her, and it was his amazed and smiling face she saw as blackness swallowed her.
*******************
"Herr Logan..." Elf couldn't finish. Robyn's tail was twitching. He was holding her as if he never wanted to let her go ever again. "[Praise God, she's alive...]" Elf murmured in German. "[Bless the little Angel...]"
Daisy was fast asleep, completely wiped out. It took a lot of emotion for a power to activate this young, and her little body couldn't handle it. She already had an ability to deal with, and now this...
Mind you, Logan was feeling more than a little wrung out, himself.
"C'mon, Elf. We gotta get 'em back inside."
"Jawohl." It took him three goes to stand.
Raven was concerned when they attained the bus. "What happened out there?"
"Divine intervention," gasped the Elf, and Logan nodded dumbly.
That one led to a lot of perplexed expressions.
*******************
"Jane!" Brian scooped her up without thinking when she appeared in the hall. "Are you okay?"
"I was lucky," she whispered, blood running from her nose. "They'd kept her cold. If she was warm - I couldn't help her." She drowsed for a moment in his arms. "Can I borrow? I'm all run down. Need energy."
"Sure," said Brian, lacing his fingers through her tiny ones. "It's the least I can do. And I'll take you to your bedroom too. How's that?"
Jane just smiled.
He'd have to report this, of course. But that could wait. Jane was the most precious of Magneto's living resources. Their only real healer.
They *had* to take good care of her.
*******************
Ha, this was funny. There were lots of Jamies. Jamies, Jamies and more Jamies. Ha ha! If they all died, would there be lots of Jamie bodies? Or would they become one body? Would that one body be really big because of all the Jamies it had to fit into it?
Pietro's mind whirled. So many choices. So many families. So many Jamies.
"Windswift," said one of the clones.
"Are you," added another.
"Okay?" finished a third.
"Ha," replied Pietro manically. "I'm fine, just fine. Jamie, Jamie and Jamie. It's just that things have got busy again. Busy, busy, busy, gotta keep busy. But gotta be calm as well. Gotta be dead."
"Huh?"
"Shhh, you don't count. I'm dead."
"Oh-Kayyy..."
With this statement Pietro threw himself to the ground and lay still, trying to be dead.
It was what he always did when life got too hectic. He'd done it when Todd died, going home and burying his face in his makeshift bed to get his scattered thoughts together. Pretending he had died through suffocation under his own pillow - that was number 24 of his 'best ways to die' list. He'd done it when Mystique talked to him on the bus, when he'd thrown himself on the upstairs seats, barely moving.
Only Kurt had dragged him out of that, because Kurt was so... alive.
The good thing about being dead was the tranquillity of it. To Pietro, it seemed like a great way to put things in perspective. So *acting* dead did much the same thing. It made perfect sense when your mind was a little off-kilter.
_I'm dead,_ he thought firmly. _Just lying here, rotting in the sun. No more worrying; no more running; no more speed or panic or change. No more stability. Just nothing. And now I have nothing, I can think about everything. Because I'm dead. I'm at peace, and nothing can ever affect me ever again.
_So, how to solve this problem? I want to see my sister, and I want to save my sister, but the sister to save is more important than the sister to see, and so must come first. But it's been so long since I saw the other - I thought she was dead! I should save the one first, but what if the other leaves while I'm doing that? But if I go with this guy, then my other sister could die for real. Could I... go both ways? I could take one Jamie with me, give him a ride on my back to my sister Robyn, and then get that Jamie to take me to my other sister, to Wanda. That could work, right? Yeah, that makes sense. Only I'm dead, so I can't do it. Oh wait, hold on - no I'm not. I'm alive... bummer._
Pietro took a deep gulp of air, and sat up. "Okay, you can come with me first, and then I'll go with you. That way we both get what we want."
The Jamies just looked rather bemused.
"I need to save my sister - my other sister with Kurt," he started to gabble, "who'salsomybrothertoo. Ihaveahugefamilyme. You'reprobablymycousinorbrotherinfact - oroneofyouisanway. Hey, butwhichofyoutocarry? Can'tcarryyouallI'llkeeloverfromtoomuchweightifIdo."
It took a few seconds for the Jamies to translate the speedster's words, but when they did they smiled and said, "Don't worry."
"We can just..."
"...absorb back..."
"...into each other."
With that, all the Jamies seemed to fall into deep concentration. Slowly, their bodies began to merge into each other, shifting and sliding, until there was only one Jamie left. The original, replete with floppy brown hair and silly little sword.
"Right," said Pietro. "Climb onto my back, and help me carry these medicines, okay? Aaaaand... we're off!"
*******************
Erik's eyes widened in shock and horror at the small, bloody bundle.
"What's going on here?" he demanded in full Magneto mode, striding towards the pair of mutants in the corridor and the fallen healer girl. "What happened to Jane? What did you *do*?"
Brian tensed, and then let his shoulders slump. He'd been hoping to get Jane back to quarters without being spotted so he could clean her up and figure out what had happened himself. Why did people always turn up exactly when they weren't supposed to?
Fortunately for him, the boy they'd literally run into and knocked over in the corridor spoke up for them in an instant. Curiously, he didn't seem to have any fear of the towering Master of Magnetism, and his voice held a hint of challenge nobody else would've dared use in such a compromising situation.
"Nothing bad, before you think it. I just ran into these two down there," he bobbed his head in the direction they'd come from, "and we were taking the tyke to the med room. From what I understand, she vanished and reappeared again a couple of minutes later, deadbeat and bleeding. Wouldn't say where she'd been or anything."
Erik arched an eyebrow, and intoned gravely, "Is this true?"
Brian gratefully nodded. "Uh-huh. She's out cold at the moment, so I wanted someone to have a look at her. Please?"
For a moment the older man wavered. Then he pinched the throbbing spot between his eyes and sighed, waving them away. "But not you," he said suddenly, catching the other boy's shoulder and pulling him backwards a little. "I'd like a word with you if you don't mind, Spider-Man."
Brian shot the kid a sympathetic look, but wasted no time in clearing out of there. _Just our luck, really,_ he though grimly as Magneto's voice echoed behind him. _Just our bum luck that our only healer is the one to go get hurt! Better warn whoever's in the lab that Magneto'll be along soon to find out why Jane disappeared like that. Wouldn't want to be in their boots when he gets there._
*******************
"I believe you have something to ask me, young Spider-Man?"
"Huh?" came Peter's intelligent reply.
"Dazzler came to me last night," began Magneto, "and she told me that you had a question to ask."
"Oh..." Peter trailed off and looked down, unable to meet the powerful man's eyes. "I..." He scratched the back of his head as he tried to start again. "The night you rescued me, I was with my Aunt May and my... my friend, Mary-Jane Watson. I was wondering if maybe - "
"If maybe they survived? No."
Peter's heart shattered. He gaped in disbelief at the older man as he continued.
"When I arrived, you were the only one left to save."
Before Peter could respond, the self-proclaimed saviour of Earth turned on his heel and disappeared through a door, leaving him suddenly dark and so alone it was almost like he couldn't breathe.
"... dead...?"
*******************
It had been the last chemistry class. The students, usually so noisy and rebellious, had been oddly quiet. The whispered words of 'mutants', 'disease' and 'demon' had done more to terrify and subdue them than any of their teacher's calls for order. Mutants were the hot topic for conversation, and fear was as rife as the hatred towards them that lingered in the atmosphere.
Things had gone well that lesson, he'd thought. Though he felt that such a quiet, fearful class was not altogether good. He liked the vibrant energy of teenagers, the imagination and the interest they could show in the world - if not always his particular subject. Such peace, such... order, was almost unnatural.
When the first bangs and slammings were heard, when the first sounds of heavy, booted footfall rang throughout the school corridor, Hank had called for calm in his suddenly rowdy class.
"Stay in the room," he had ordered. "Whatever it is, I'm sure the Principal will sort it out."
He'd neglected to mention that Miss Darkholme had not come to the faculty meeting that day; nor had she been seen by any of the other teachers all week. Still, whatever the ruckus was, it was probably nothing to do with them.
How wrong he had been.
It all happened very quickly. The men, with hard boots, helmets and guns, kicked open the door to his class. Hank heard a single shout of, "It's in there!" Then noise had filled his world.
He'd ducked down behind his solid oak desk as the bullets rattled and roared out of the guns, and cowered as the dreadful screams rent the air.
His pupils did not have solid oak desks.
Then, all at once, it had stopped. As suddenly as it began, it ended. The only sound left was that of some liquid pouring and dripping onto the floor. Hank had peeped around the desk, and looked into a room of dead things. Splattered blood, listless eyes, breathless mouths - dead children.
Over the sound of his own violent vomiting, he'd heard the gunmen speak.
"We missed one."
"Ah, it's just a teacher. Most mutants coming though are teenagers. Don't you know anything? No, I reckon we got that suspected mutie the bigwigs told us about, all right."
And then Hank had known. He had been the one they were after. He had been the one the students had died for. They'd killed 27 youths, for him. Gone - the dreams, the hopes, the aspirations of the young. Gone - the enthusiasm, the future, the life of those teenagers who hadn't even a chance to make something of their existence. Gone, for him.
For him.
Hank had felt the change, and for the first time since fighting it off in his own high school days, he'd welcomed it. He'd welcomed the power, the blue fur, the dexterity - everything. He'd welcomed the chance to give those monsters what they wanted, to give them their Mutie.
They had fallen like rag-dolls before him. He remembered a shoddy, self-painted 'Friends Of Humanity' T-shirt, before he ripped the owner's heart out; heard a gasp of 'the Bayville Demon!' before he crushed the man's windpipe. He'd been crazed - totally and utterly. That was the only explanation. It was his mutation and his grief that had made him do such terrible things.
But when the blood of the guilty was intermingled with the blood of the innocent, and he saw what he'd done, he'd run.
Months later, *he* had found him. Found the Beast. And tamed it. Erik, with his soft words and understanding pushed back the creature and brought forward the man again. Hank. Hank McCoy. He promised him that one day they would make a New World, a bright, honest place, where Hank could teach the new generation of mutants. If he would just go with him to that place in the sky...
Of course, Hank had accepted. He owed his pupils that much.
That had been a long time ago. Together, they had built the station on Asteroid M. Together they had started to rebuild the lives of so many young people. And together they had started work on genetically bringing back that lost generation.
Though, for that last part, they had needed the help of another.
Now, however, Hank was embroiled with looking after a single little girl. A little girl who, alongside the stasis chambers, had made all the difference in their successes thus far.
"How is she?" Erik asked.
"She'll be fine, I think," Hank replied. "She seems to have overexerted herself, but other than that I can't really say what's wrong. She's just worn out, though how it happened so quickly... Anyway, with rest and a few medicines, she'll fully recover."
"Good. Have you heard anything of our friend, yet?"
There was no need for names. Hank knew to whom he was referring. "No, and I don't expect to for a while, to be honest. Last time we talked, if you remember, he said he was concerned with happenings elsewhere. He said it in such a tone that led me to believe he felt his business was actually concluded here. For the time being at least. The artificial wombs were successful, even if the foetus' didn't take."
"Really?" Erik's response was dry.
"Indeed. When I asked him why he had to go, he gave an extremely cryptic answer. He said, 'I am a gardener, and the world is my garden. This patch of land is growing nicely, now, but I have other seeds to sow, and other plants to attend'."
"How poetic. And you believed him?"
"As much as I believe anything he says. I don't trust him, Erik. I don't trust him one bit."
Erik sighed and turned to face the window, watching the dark form of Earth roll below him. "Yes, Hank," he said at last.
Hank was one of the few allowed to use anything but a codename as a title up here. Some of the others had started doing it anyway - Brian, the Jamies, Jane - but Hank had asked specifically at the beginning. Something to do with controlling his wilder instincts.
Erik went on. "There are few things in this world, in this universe, that I am certain of anymore. But one thing I *am* sure of, is that our friend Mr. Essex is more than he pretends to be."
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
I had no idea Robyn's death would spark such a response in folks. Generally, people aren't all that bothered when OCs cop it, and it makes me feel all warm and snuggly inside that peeps would like her enough to mourn her. ^_^ So, morbid though it sounds, thanks for that.
*******************
Twentieth Fragment ~ 'Kings and Miracles'
*******************
Daisy ran out when she saw Logan and Kurti approaching with Robyn held in Kurti's arms.
Robyn was very, *very* still.
Daisy's heart dropped to her lower bowel, and she suddenly felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She'd seen that kind of stillness before, when the sickness ravaged her hometown and turned her own family against her. "Is she...?" she asked, hoping she was mistaken.
Kurti nodded, throat bobbing and jaw tight.
No. That was *wrong*. Her very first and younger sister *had* to be okay. Anything else was just wrong. "No," she said, whispering. Then again, firmer, "*No*!"
"Daisy - " Logan began.
"*NO*!" Daisy screamed. Her eyes spurted tears, and her fists clenched by her sides. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't *let* it happen!
And then something was happening inside her, and it made her head hurt and everything feel wobbly.
And she knew. She *knew* that there was someone who could help. And she *knew* where that someone was. And she wanted that person here. She *had* to be here...
There was a near-concussive blast of air, and abruptly a small child was standing amongst them. She was five, if she was a day; an angel in human form, short only her pinkie fingers and toes, and clad in a simple shift for a dress.
"Broken," said the newcomer, and reached out to touch Robyn's motionless little form. Then she shut her eyes.
"Logan?" said Daisy. "You need to touch her shoulder. You donate your energy by touchin' 'er. She... she uses spiritual energies from... from donors to heal..." How did she know that? Daisy wasn't sure. She just did. Just like she knew she'd brought this person here. Just like she knew she knew exactly where the little angel had come from. Someplace in the sky...
Kurti seized the newcomer's arm without a second thought, startling Daisy back to Earth. "Heal her. Take everything. Just heal her."
Logan placed his hand on the child's shoulder. "Ditto."
A diamond pause. The angel frowned, concentrating.
Robyn gasped; a shuddering, laboured breath.
Then another.
And another.
Breath by breath, her breathing was easier. All traces of death slid away, replaced by life. Feverish life, but life nonetheless.
Blood dripped from the healer's nose, dotting her nice white dress. Yet she maintained her air of unnerving serenity.
She opened her eyes. "Fixed," she said, looking tired. She turned to Daisy. "I need to go back."
Daisy nodded once, and the same concussive blast reversed itself.
Then she fell down. So tired. So very tired. Her vision swam, and her feet seemed too small to balance on.
Logan caught her, and it was his amazed and smiling face she saw as blackness swallowed her.
*******************
"Herr Logan..." Elf couldn't finish. Robyn's tail was twitching. He was holding her as if he never wanted to let her go ever again. "[Praise God, she's alive...]" Elf murmured in German. "[Bless the little Angel...]"
Daisy was fast asleep, completely wiped out. It took a lot of emotion for a power to activate this young, and her little body couldn't handle it. She already had an ability to deal with, and now this...
Mind you, Logan was feeling more than a little wrung out, himself.
"C'mon, Elf. We gotta get 'em back inside."
"Jawohl." It took him three goes to stand.
Raven was concerned when they attained the bus. "What happened out there?"
"Divine intervention," gasped the Elf, and Logan nodded dumbly.
That one led to a lot of perplexed expressions.
*******************
"Jane!" Brian scooped her up without thinking when she appeared in the hall. "Are you okay?"
"I was lucky," she whispered, blood running from her nose. "They'd kept her cold. If she was warm - I couldn't help her." She drowsed for a moment in his arms. "Can I borrow? I'm all run down. Need energy."
"Sure," said Brian, lacing his fingers through her tiny ones. "It's the least I can do. And I'll take you to your bedroom too. How's that?"
Jane just smiled.
He'd have to report this, of course. But that could wait. Jane was the most precious of Magneto's living resources. Their only real healer.
They *had* to take good care of her.
*******************
Ha, this was funny. There were lots of Jamies. Jamies, Jamies and more Jamies. Ha ha! If they all died, would there be lots of Jamie bodies? Or would they become one body? Would that one body be really big because of all the Jamies it had to fit into it?
Pietro's mind whirled. So many choices. So many families. So many Jamies.
"Windswift," said one of the clones.
"Are you," added another.
"Okay?" finished a third.
"Ha," replied Pietro manically. "I'm fine, just fine. Jamie, Jamie and Jamie. It's just that things have got busy again. Busy, busy, busy, gotta keep busy. But gotta be calm as well. Gotta be dead."
"Huh?"
"Shhh, you don't count. I'm dead."
"Oh-Kayyy..."
With this statement Pietro threw himself to the ground and lay still, trying to be dead.
It was what he always did when life got too hectic. He'd done it when Todd died, going home and burying his face in his makeshift bed to get his scattered thoughts together. Pretending he had died through suffocation under his own pillow - that was number 24 of his 'best ways to die' list. He'd done it when Mystique talked to him on the bus, when he'd thrown himself on the upstairs seats, barely moving.
Only Kurt had dragged him out of that, because Kurt was so... alive.
The good thing about being dead was the tranquillity of it. To Pietro, it seemed like a great way to put things in perspective. So *acting* dead did much the same thing. It made perfect sense when your mind was a little off-kilter.
_I'm dead,_ he thought firmly. _Just lying here, rotting in the sun. No more worrying; no more running; no more speed or panic or change. No more stability. Just nothing. And now I have nothing, I can think about everything. Because I'm dead. I'm at peace, and nothing can ever affect me ever again.
_So, how to solve this problem? I want to see my sister, and I want to save my sister, but the sister to save is more important than the sister to see, and so must come first. But it's been so long since I saw the other - I thought she was dead! I should save the one first, but what if the other leaves while I'm doing that? But if I go with this guy, then my other sister could die for real. Could I... go both ways? I could take one Jamie with me, give him a ride on my back to my sister Robyn, and then get that Jamie to take me to my other sister, to Wanda. That could work, right? Yeah, that makes sense. Only I'm dead, so I can't do it. Oh wait, hold on - no I'm not. I'm alive... bummer._
Pietro took a deep gulp of air, and sat up. "Okay, you can come with me first, and then I'll go with you. That way we both get what we want."
The Jamies just looked rather bemused.
"I need to save my sister - my other sister with Kurt," he started to gabble, "who'salsomybrothertoo. Ihaveahugefamilyme. You'reprobablymycousinorbrotherinfact - oroneofyouisanway. Hey, butwhichofyoutocarry? Can'tcarryyouallI'llkeeloverfromtoomuchweightifIdo."
It took a few seconds for the Jamies to translate the speedster's words, but when they did they smiled and said, "Don't worry."
"We can just..."
"...absorb back..."
"...into each other."
With that, all the Jamies seemed to fall into deep concentration. Slowly, their bodies began to merge into each other, shifting and sliding, until there was only one Jamie left. The original, replete with floppy brown hair and silly little sword.
"Right," said Pietro. "Climb onto my back, and help me carry these medicines, okay? Aaaaand... we're off!"
*******************
Erik's eyes widened in shock and horror at the small, bloody bundle.
"What's going on here?" he demanded in full Magneto mode, striding towards the pair of mutants in the corridor and the fallen healer girl. "What happened to Jane? What did you *do*?"
Brian tensed, and then let his shoulders slump. He'd been hoping to get Jane back to quarters without being spotted so he could clean her up and figure out what had happened himself. Why did people always turn up exactly when they weren't supposed to?
Fortunately for him, the boy they'd literally run into and knocked over in the corridor spoke up for them in an instant. Curiously, he didn't seem to have any fear of the towering Master of Magnetism, and his voice held a hint of challenge nobody else would've dared use in such a compromising situation.
"Nothing bad, before you think it. I just ran into these two down there," he bobbed his head in the direction they'd come from, "and we were taking the tyke to the med room. From what I understand, she vanished and reappeared again a couple of minutes later, deadbeat and bleeding. Wouldn't say where she'd been or anything."
Erik arched an eyebrow, and intoned gravely, "Is this true?"
Brian gratefully nodded. "Uh-huh. She's out cold at the moment, so I wanted someone to have a look at her. Please?"
For a moment the older man wavered. Then he pinched the throbbing spot between his eyes and sighed, waving them away. "But not you," he said suddenly, catching the other boy's shoulder and pulling him backwards a little. "I'd like a word with you if you don't mind, Spider-Man."
Brian shot the kid a sympathetic look, but wasted no time in clearing out of there. _Just our luck, really,_ he though grimly as Magneto's voice echoed behind him. _Just our bum luck that our only healer is the one to go get hurt! Better warn whoever's in the lab that Magneto'll be along soon to find out why Jane disappeared like that. Wouldn't want to be in their boots when he gets there._
*******************
"I believe you have something to ask me, young Spider-Man?"
"Huh?" came Peter's intelligent reply.
"Dazzler came to me last night," began Magneto, "and she told me that you had a question to ask."
"Oh..." Peter trailed off and looked down, unable to meet the powerful man's eyes. "I..." He scratched the back of his head as he tried to start again. "The night you rescued me, I was with my Aunt May and my... my friend, Mary-Jane Watson. I was wondering if maybe - "
"If maybe they survived? No."
Peter's heart shattered. He gaped in disbelief at the older man as he continued.
"When I arrived, you were the only one left to save."
Before Peter could respond, the self-proclaimed saviour of Earth turned on his heel and disappeared through a door, leaving him suddenly dark and so alone it was almost like he couldn't breathe.
"... dead...?"
*******************
It had been the last chemistry class. The students, usually so noisy and rebellious, had been oddly quiet. The whispered words of 'mutants', 'disease' and 'demon' had done more to terrify and subdue them than any of their teacher's calls for order. Mutants were the hot topic for conversation, and fear was as rife as the hatred towards them that lingered in the atmosphere.
Things had gone well that lesson, he'd thought. Though he felt that such a quiet, fearful class was not altogether good. He liked the vibrant energy of teenagers, the imagination and the interest they could show in the world - if not always his particular subject. Such peace, such... order, was almost unnatural.
When the first bangs and slammings were heard, when the first sounds of heavy, booted footfall rang throughout the school corridor, Hank had called for calm in his suddenly rowdy class.
"Stay in the room," he had ordered. "Whatever it is, I'm sure the Principal will sort it out."
He'd neglected to mention that Miss Darkholme had not come to the faculty meeting that day; nor had she been seen by any of the other teachers all week. Still, whatever the ruckus was, it was probably nothing to do with them.
How wrong he had been.
It all happened very quickly. The men, with hard boots, helmets and guns, kicked open the door to his class. Hank heard a single shout of, "It's in there!" Then noise had filled his world.
He'd ducked down behind his solid oak desk as the bullets rattled and roared out of the guns, and cowered as the dreadful screams rent the air.
His pupils did not have solid oak desks.
Then, all at once, it had stopped. As suddenly as it began, it ended. The only sound left was that of some liquid pouring and dripping onto the floor. Hank had peeped around the desk, and looked into a room of dead things. Splattered blood, listless eyes, breathless mouths - dead children.
Over the sound of his own violent vomiting, he'd heard the gunmen speak.
"We missed one."
"Ah, it's just a teacher. Most mutants coming though are teenagers. Don't you know anything? No, I reckon we got that suspected mutie the bigwigs told us about, all right."
And then Hank had known. He had been the one they were after. He had been the one the students had died for. They'd killed 27 youths, for him. Gone - the dreams, the hopes, the aspirations of the young. Gone - the enthusiasm, the future, the life of those teenagers who hadn't even a chance to make something of their existence. Gone, for him.
For him.
Hank had felt the change, and for the first time since fighting it off in his own high school days, he'd welcomed it. He'd welcomed the power, the blue fur, the dexterity - everything. He'd welcomed the chance to give those monsters what they wanted, to give them their Mutie.
They had fallen like rag-dolls before him. He remembered a shoddy, self-painted 'Friends Of Humanity' T-shirt, before he ripped the owner's heart out; heard a gasp of 'the Bayville Demon!' before he crushed the man's windpipe. He'd been crazed - totally and utterly. That was the only explanation. It was his mutation and his grief that had made him do such terrible things.
But when the blood of the guilty was intermingled with the blood of the innocent, and he saw what he'd done, he'd run.
Months later, *he* had found him. Found the Beast. And tamed it. Erik, with his soft words and understanding pushed back the creature and brought forward the man again. Hank. Hank McCoy. He promised him that one day they would make a New World, a bright, honest place, where Hank could teach the new generation of mutants. If he would just go with him to that place in the sky...
Of course, Hank had accepted. He owed his pupils that much.
That had been a long time ago. Together, they had built the station on Asteroid M. Together they had started to rebuild the lives of so many young people. And together they had started work on genetically bringing back that lost generation.
Though, for that last part, they had needed the help of another.
Now, however, Hank was embroiled with looking after a single little girl. A little girl who, alongside the stasis chambers, had made all the difference in their successes thus far.
"How is she?" Erik asked.
"She'll be fine, I think," Hank replied. "She seems to have overexerted herself, but other than that I can't really say what's wrong. She's just worn out, though how it happened so quickly... Anyway, with rest and a few medicines, she'll fully recover."
"Good. Have you heard anything of our friend, yet?"
There was no need for names. Hank knew to whom he was referring. "No, and I don't expect to for a while, to be honest. Last time we talked, if you remember, he said he was concerned with happenings elsewhere. He said it in such a tone that led me to believe he felt his business was actually concluded here. For the time being at least. The artificial wombs were successful, even if the foetus' didn't take."
"Really?" Erik's response was dry.
"Indeed. When I asked him why he had to go, he gave an extremely cryptic answer. He said, 'I am a gardener, and the world is my garden. This patch of land is growing nicely, now, but I have other seeds to sow, and other plants to attend'."
"How poetic. And you believed him?"
"As much as I believe anything he says. I don't trust him, Erik. I don't trust him one bit."
Erik sighed and turned to face the window, watching the dark form of Earth roll below him. "Yes, Hank," he said at last.
Hank was one of the few allowed to use anything but a codename as a title up here. Some of the others had started doing it anyway - Brian, the Jamies, Jane - but Hank had asked specifically at the beginning. Something to do with controlling his wilder instincts.
Erik went on. "There are few things in this world, in this universe, that I am certain of anymore. But one thing I *am* sure of, is that our friend Mr. Essex is more than he pretends to be."
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To Be Continued...
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