Chapter Ten:
As night began to fall over Westchester, Cyclops, Storm and Henry came to the sight of the demon's last attack. It was a familiar locale; Rusty's bar had always been a landmark when driving toward Xavier's School for the Gifted, though not one frequented by the staff (or at least, most of them). When the Professor's intuitions directed the X-Men to the small establishment, Cyclops could not help but feel very uneasy about how close the demon's path was getting to the school.
Cyclops removed his heavy visor in exchange for his ruby-lens glasses before entering the bar. Storm and Henry were waiting outside, circling the lot for signs of a struggle...or for another victim.
Pushing the weathered swinging door inward, Cyclops stepped into the dimly lit bar and felt a small smile touch his face. The smell of polished wood and cigarette smoke filled the room, and the bustle of about two dozen people was like a hum beneath the steady drone of the television. There were a few figures seated at the bar, three younger customers playing pool to the left, and the rest of the patrons were scattered at different tables, chatting pleasantly among themselves.
Scott took a deep breath as he headed toward the bar, watching Rusty lazily drying glasses. Memories of his youth at Xavier's school came flooding back so quickly that he paused halfway between the front door and his destination. His gaze shifted until his eyes stopped on a booth near the back, and for a moment the memories caught him.
He remembered the night he and Jean had snuck off the school grounds just to find the old pub around the corner. There had only been ten students at Xavier's mansion then. They all had been in their late teens, and were well aware of the pub around the corner. Scott had always joked about breaking curfew to go to Rusty's bar, but it was Jean who finally called his bluff. So one late night, they ran off down the dark road, searching for the soft neon glow of the bar's sign.
It had been very late by the time they reached their destination, and when they walked in, they immediately settled into one dark booth, hoping the bartender would not notice they were under-aged and kick them out...or worse, call the Professor. Scott remembered reaching across the dark wood table and taking Jean's hand, feeling her racing pulse and seeing the thrill in her eyes about their little night of escape.
When the bartender finally approached them, the man just smiled, introduced himself as Rusty, and asked them what they wanted to order. Scott had deepened his voice slightly and ordered a beer. Jean had laughed and ordered the same. He remembered the skeptical look Rusty had given them over his order pad, before the bartender confirmed their order for two O'Doul's and walked away.
But...that was the past. And many things had changed. And the only Jean with him now was in that memory...
Scott glanced forward again, and saw Rusty watching him curiously. He quickly composed himself, remembering his mission, being Cyclops again, and finished his path to the bar.
"Well, hello, Scott," Rusty said with a small smile, "Been a long time."
Rusty held out his hand, and Cyclops shook it graciously.
"Yeah, it has," he replied, "Glad to see you're still doing well."
Rusty nodded, "I suppose I am. How're things at the school?"
"Fine," Cyclops replied quickly, feeling certain Rusty's next question would be about when Stryker's men had raided the school but the older man just set the glass he had been drying on the counter and sighed.
Rusty leaned forward and gave Cyclops and hard look, "You've got something you need to talk to me about...right?"
Cyclops nodded, and Rusty continued, "You got any of the others with you?"
"Yeah," Cyclops replied, "They're waiting outside..."
Rusty wiped his hands on a dish cloth and motioned toward the door, "Meet me out back then."
With another nod, Cyclops left the bar quickly and signaled for Storm to pull the car around. Rusty appeared through the back door, carrying with him another bag of garbage, going through the same actions he had only a short time before.
"I don't know what it was," Rusty explained to the three X-Men after Storm and Henry had joined them, "But I do know, if it wasn't for that little girl with the knife, you'd'a probably found me lying here cold and lonely, if you know what I mean..."
Storm frowned, "What did it look like?"
"The girl or the knife?" Rusty asked, looking confused.
"The creature that attacked you..." Storm replied patiently, "What did it look like?"
Rusty tilted his head a moment in thought, glancing between them and the bar, as if he was struggling to answer.
"Now that you ask me..." he began, "I don't really know. Ain't that a bitch? Man gets sucker punched by God knows what...all I really remember is the girl and her knife. The rest...dang it, I know what I saw but...it's just getting all hazy when I try to think of it again."
"Then, the girl..." Henry chimed in, "What did she look like?"
"Oh...pretty young thing, dark hair...wouldn't think a little girl like that would be carrying such a dangerous weapon...but you know kids these days..." Rusty replied with a shrug, trying not to stare too much at the large blue doctor.
"And she stopped it from attacking you?" Cyclops asked, and Rusty looked at him with puzzlement again.
"Stopped what?" Rusty asked, and then touched his temple and closed his eyes, "Oh, right, that...that thing. I don't know. Thinking about it now, I'm not sure what all the fuss was about. It really just...doesn't seem that important anymore..."
"Not important?" Henry said with surprise, "Sir, I assure you that..."
But he paused as Storm raised a hand toward him and shook her head. She glanced at Cyclops, and he nodded knowingly.
"No, it probably wasn't," Cyclops replied to Rusty, "But that girl might still be trouble, running around with a knife like that. Where did you say she headed?"
Rusty's hazy expression cleared a little bit as his thoughts were turned away from the demon.
"Off down the right fork," he said and then gave them and wary look, "Right toward your school, I'm sorry to say. Maybe you'uns should go find her before she hurts somebody. Dang kids think they're so hot carrying around weapons like that..."
Cyclops shook the bartender's hand again, "Thanks for all the help, Rus. We have to keep our students safe after all."
Rusty nodded approvingly, "Absolutely. Glad I could help."
They said goodnight to him and quickly got back in the car. Henry looked between the other two X-Men and frowned, slightly annoyed at the barkeep.
"Why...all of a sudden...would that man feel that demon wasn't important?" he asked aloud, "It can't be a regular patron at the bar or anything..."
"It happens sometimes," Storm answered quietly as she drove the car out of the lot, "When someone comes in contact with a demonic being...and lives...their memory of the event usually fades very quickly. Creatures like that don't want to be remembered, that way they are more difficult to identify or track."
"Easier on the survivors, too," Cyclops added in a hard voice, "They don't have to live with the traumatic memories of...those events..."
On the last words, the tone in his voice changed. Storm glanced over at her teammate with concern, but Cyclops had his eyes closed, as he removed his glasses and put his visor back on. Once it was secure, he gave Storm a reassuring nod, and a not-so-convincing smile.
Henry was musing on these new facts about demons curiously, "How is it then that our Miss Slayer can pursue such things?"
"That's what they're trained to do," Cyclops replied, "And their actions are usually monitored by an expert in demon behavior called a Watcher. But, the Professor believes this Slayer is working on her own, which can be just as dangerous as the creature itself."
"Do you think we should check in at the mansion?" Storm asked and Cyclops shook his head.
"No," he replied, "If the demon gets too close, the Professor will know and notify us."
"And if the Slayer entered the school grounds?" Henry asked.
"I don't think she's a danger to anyone at the school," Storm replied, "She's looking for the demon...not mutants..."