Disclaimer: Marvel Comics owns the X-Men not me. I'm not making any money off this. It's just for fun.
The next few of days, if your excuse the bad pun, flew by for me. Sure my time in the "Danger Room" was grueling but I felt confident that I was already making improvements. I had yet to witness my comrades train but I thought I had something they lacked. Experience. Okay, I did mess up, but I had been doing this whole crime fighting thing longer than them. That had to mean something.
"Warren, may I have a word?" Professor Xavier inquired after one of our sessions.
"Of course, Professor." I replied in that pleasant tone I often used on my father after I got in trouble. Though I tried to repress a groan of annoyance, he seemed to sense it as a bemused expression flickered across his face. Sadly once he saw that I had noticed this, the mask of the distance mentor slipped back on. It was frightening the way his eyes seemed to pierce through
flesh and bone into ones' very soul. I found myself wondering who this man was, and what had happened to make him so...cold.
I guess I thought it was amusing at first to see Bobby flinch when Xavier called him into his office once. After all not to long ago I had actually been afraid of the runt. It was hard to think of a man of ice to be scared of a bald man in a wheelchair. Then again, Bobby Drake was no man, he was just a kid.
"Would you mind, Angel?" A voice asked shapely. I actually audibly gasped as I realized that "voice" was coming from inside my head. Trying to shake of the beginnings of hysteria I dared to meet the mans' eyes. Even with his eyes narrowed to fine points, the annoyance was clear. Shallowing the lump in my throat I decided to take another risk.
"W-why did you do that?" Did my voice really waver?
"I wanted to get your attention. I do not like having to repeat myself young man. Now as I was saying, you need work on your dodging. Your lack of control--" He stated this all matter-of-factly, as if insulting a students' efforts came naturally. I HAVE CONTROL, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH MY FLYING ABILITY!!!
"Really? I disagree." Oh god, did I say that out loud or did he--"I suppose I should also begin teaching you to create metal barriers as well. Yes. We should start on that in a week or so, depending on your improvements..." He rattled on about me meeting some guy named Fred something or another. I didn't really care at that point I just wanted to get away. To fly again. There was a time when I use to believe that my wings were a curse. That was before I first took flight on them. There are no words to describe to the utter joy I feel every time I soar. It doesn't matter that I hardly know my family anymore, that I have no friends(I made sure of that at school), or even that I'm a mutant. I'm free. Truly alive. Something Professor Xavier will surely try to put an end to.
"Warren..."The Professor regards me gravely, for a moment I forget how to breath. When he speaks again I am shocked how soft his tone is. "You have a great gift, all of you have amazing abilities, and potentials. Abilities that could alter the future for good or for ill. These are...serious times Warren. Things are going to get worse before they get better. This school...," he gestured around almost wildly, as if desperately trying to make me understand something beyond my grasp. "...this school is a haven. I place I have set up to be a home for all of you, to protect you for the danger I am training you to combat--"
"I don't need protection." Unbidden the words had left my mouth before I could stop it.
"Yes, you do," he replied so softly I just managed to catch the words, "your young, and naive. You have no ideas of the evils in the world-"
"Yes, I do!" I interrupted again, unable to help myself. "I've already fought it myself!"
A humorless laugh left the crippled man as he wheeled himself closer to me. "You have fought thieves, gang members and petty thugs. You know nothing of real evil?"
"And you do?" I mumbled.
"Yes. I do. What we are fighting against is not some villain who wishes to conquer the world. Not some tangible threat that will gain fame and glory. We are fighting hatred Warren. Rarely are there any victors in such battles. You will mostly likely be hurt or...worse. These sessions are not to be taken lightly. Your grades are hardly what's at stake, you very lives will be in danger."
A shadow passed over him for a moment as he told me I was free to leave the session. I did so glancing back at a man who seemed very alone in the world.
_____________________________
After I changed out of my uniform I decided to catch up on some of my favorite TV shows. My own TV was smashed during my encounter with the team. With all that had happened I hadn't bothered to buy another. There were only two sets in the mansion, one in the living room, and another in the Professors' study. It was pretty much an unwritten rule that no student used the one in the study.
Scott sat in corner reading something that looked rather dull. The book itself looked old, the cover was missing, the pages yellow with many rips, though Scott didn't seem to care or notice. His body looked even lankier hunched over in his short sleeve shirt. I couldn't help but wonder how a meek guy like him could carry such raw destructive power behind those frail looking shades.
"Can I help you with something, Worthington?"
"Hmm? Oh just wondering were the kid is." I lied. Though it was odd that he wasn't with his friend. It seemed like whenever I saw them they were together. Bobby always trying, and failing to get Mr. Lanky here to loose up. I swear the guy has a stick so far up his-
"I think he's on the phone." Scott mumbles as I flip though the channels. Damn, it's Wednesday, nothing good is on.
"Oh." Now what do I do for fun? "Isn't there a basketball court here?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, out back. The ball is in the closet two halls to the right....unless Bobbys' been playing lately." Having nothing better to do I make may way into the hallway. I hardly notice someone murmur nearby.
"...No everythings' fine. No, I'll understand if he's to busy to talk to m--oh hi--"
Nope it's not in this closet.
"--we are studying other things--it IS important!"
Well Scott might have meant the one in the counter...
"I AM studying hard--I'm not shouting...I...if...no...no...yes, I do..."
Didn't he say the kid might have moved it?
"Yeah......bye." I reentered the hall next to the study and finally notice Bobby hanging up the phone.
"Hey squirt, where did you put the basketball?" When he doesn't answer me I repeat the question, unable to keep my irritation out of my tone. He exhales slowly in an attempt to calm himself,--like I'm the problem!
"I don't know where it is, ask Scott." Bobby says through gritted teeth, still glaring at the phone.
"He said you would know if it wasn't in the closet. So where is it, Drake?"
"I don't know." He all but whined trying to push pass me. Now I have never claimed to be a patient man, but I think I had been a good sport up until then. No way would I let the kid weasel out of our conversation. It was just rude. So I moved my wings into his path, blocking his escape route.
"I'm talking to you kid."
"I told you I don't know, now leave me alone." In military school I had made myself the big man on campus. The guy you didn't want to piss off. I was one of the richest kids there, a father with friends in high places and pretty tough as well. No one had dared to challenge me in along time. Mark Powers, a boy two years my senior, had called it "the look." He said when I stared into your eyes , you could just tell I could kick your ass. Rarely did I engage in actual fights, but the outcome was always the same.
As Bobby tried to push past me I grabbed his arm until I got his attention. I didn't want to hurt the kid, but I wasn't about to be disrespected either. You know what they say about old habits. I figured I would just scary him a bit.
"Leggo!" He hissed, his right hand trying to loosen my vise hold on his left wrist.
"Not until you answer my question." Unable to free himself, he met my gaze instead. The shock was beginning to fade as anger began to blaze in those mocha colored eyes. A second later I yelped as an intense cold crawled up my arm.
"Why you little frozen freak! When I get done with you--"
"Bring it on you overgrown parakeet!" Furious, I made to tackle him only to be out maneuvered by the brat. A snowball collides with my head, only adding to my fury. A gasp of surprise escapes him as I pin him to the floor. I smirk as I do so, thinking he'll learn his lesson never to mess with Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third. That happy thought fades as more ice creeps up, freezing me. I look down at Bobby, expecting to see him gloating. I didn't expect to see him looking so pale and so pained. In my blind panic I must of punched randomly knocking the wind out of him. Despite this I see determination in those eyes.
"What's going o--oh my...!" I feel Scott attempting to pull me back, but I can't be bothered to move. I'm still to mad to think straight. "Let go of him Worthington. Now." Scott says this with
unnerving calmness with such surprising command, I obey without questioning. He's silent for a moment, I suppose he's glaring at me. I can't really be sure with those red shades of his. The next moment his whispering to his pal. Bobby nods a few times, not meeting either of our eyes. Or much less Scotts' general direction. The boy scout helps the brat to his feet, making sure he's standing between us.
"Robert!" The said boy jumps along with us as the Professor enters the scene.
"Yes, sir?" Bobby replies meekly.
"I thought we spoke, at length, about you using your powers in the hallways."
"Umm...Professor,"Scott ventures putting a comforting hand on Bobbys' shoulder. "It wasn't his fault, sir. You see--" The Professor frowned a moment before glancing at each one of us in turn.
"I see. Both of you fought each other, over a misplaced basketball." It wasn't a question. His voice was thick with disappointment.
"Yes, sir." We said in unison. The crippled mans' gaze hardened as he paused to consider us.
"You each receive ten demerits. And you are grounded for a week Robert," he proclaimed.
"What?!" Bobby cried, looking hopelessly at his teacher.
"Why? " Scott demanded. "Why not Warren as well?" I threw Summers a dirty look, but he didn't seem it catch it.
"You started the fight Robert. You should know better, perhaps this will help you remember. You can use your free time to clean the stables. For now I expect you to clean up the mess you made."
Our little group broke up, leaving behind a very angered snowman to tidy up. As I ascended the stairs I caught the deadly glare he sent me. I gave him my biggest smirk yet as I went to my dorm. Once again I had gotten my way. I wasn't afraid of his revenge, after all what could one little frozen freak do to the Avenging Angel?
A/N: Just to let you know it was briefly mentioned that Warren acted like a jerk in military school. He was got himself kicked out so he won't have to take a physical.
Next chapter: Tension between Warren and Bobby mounts, Scotts' nickname, Bobbys' revenge, and if I can the intro of Fred Duncan.