Xavier had gained confidence, and was out of breath from running a short distance when he stood, breathing heavily on the street corner. Running. A real body. He smiled, a wide grin.
So much effort, to hold this formless body together, to give it direction. He reflected that Mystique had been able to perfect her control over the course of a lifetime. He was still forced to mentally micromanage his shape. It was unsettling, new, different, distracting.
Exhilarating.
Click.
Xavier turned to see a man dressed in a black leotard with two large white eyespots toss a remote control detonating switch over the rail into the water.
"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, sensing that the dark man was looking right at him.
"I just started a three minute countdown," the dark man said. Xavier snatched his name; Peter Parker.
"Meaning?" he pressed.
"Meaning the explosives I just piled around Professor Charles Xavier's body with Mystique's psyche will detonate in two minutes and forty five seconds."
There was a tense moment between them.
"And what do you hope to gain by that?" asked Xavier coldly.
The dark man shrugged. "Maybe your psyche has moved over," he says, "and maybe your psyche has the power of your mind. Then again, maybe your psyche draws that power from its brain," he said pointedly, "which will be a charred lump in two minutes and thirty seconds. Now just a second," he said, stepping back and raising his hand. "If you take control of me, you might make it back in time, but without my skills you'll be stuck with just my ability. And if you try to take too many bodies at once," he shrugged, "who knows what could happen to you. Is it hard keeping the shape shifting under control?"
"You have no idea," Xavier gritted out. "What are your demands? You are not a killer." For that much he easily sensed.
"All you have to do to live is to let go of Mystique's mind and return to your body. She's unconscious, I saw to that, but you could overcome that unconsciousness, am I right?"
"You are right," Xavier said, his voice cold.
"The timer is on your lap. It's a simple matter of hitting the 'cancel' button and there will be no explosion. No tricks. I'm not lying. I'm not trying to kill you, only to stop you." One minute fifty seconds.
"All I want is to walk again," Xavier said. "Why is that so wrong?"
"Because you want to walk again at the expense of a life," the spider ghost said softly. "I can no more allow you to destroy Mystique to serve your ends than I can allow Mystique to destroy you for hers."
Xavier blinked. "You would stop her from attacking me? You don't even know who I am."
"That's why I followed her, to prevent bloodshed," the spider ghost said. He extended his hand. "Trust me. Let Mystique go. There has to be a better way than this." One minute thirty seconds.
"You would follow me, to protect others?" Xavier said warily.
"Seems like you have enough enemies without adding me to the list," the spider ghost said. "You have done nothing to me and mine. If there's anyone I have a grudge against, it's Mystique. I mean to settle up with her, but not like this."
Xavier lowered his head and thought for a few seconds. When he spoke, it seemed he was thinking aloud.
"You shame me, Parker," he said. "You make my vision seem shallow, my honor seem hollow." He looked at the spider ghost directly. "Where I seek enlightenment, for myself and others, you seek to make the world around you more sane, at the expense of power. You take this incredible risk for nothing more than an idea."
Peter felt Xavier in his mind, learning him, and he shivered.
"Please stop," he said quickly. "You have fifty five seconds." His voice was urgent.
"You really don't want to blow anyone up, do you," Xavier mused.
"Not at all," the spider ghost said. "Not anyone. But there is no honor in side-stepping your handicap," he added. "The only honor is in overcoming it. Honor can be built on achievement, but not deception. That means staying in your own body. You've already killed four men tonight in one of the most treacherous ways I can imagine. Being this close to you makes me feel sick to my stomach. But you deserve a chance. I won't lie to you. Part of me hopes you decide to call my bluff. See if both you and Mystique are destroyed by your mad and heedless lust for power." Peter was shaking with a number of emotions wildly mixed with each other. "And you have twenty five seconds. How long do you think it will take for you to get back and conscious?"
Xavier considered for a moment. Then he regarded Peter directly. "I will not forget you, Peter Parker. For better or for worse," he mused. Then he sat down on the pavement, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. His mind and his breath slid out of him as one.
Peter hopped out, snagged the body, and jumped back into the concealing shadow of the alley.
"You have ten seconds," he murmured. "Five, four, three, two, one."
No explosion rocked the night, no pyrotechnics. Nothing. The form of Charles Xavier blurred and settled in a blue-skinned woman with dark crimson hair. Either she was dead, and the body reverted, or she was in there somewhere.
"Let's get out of here," Peter murmured, and he tossed her body over his shoulder and sprang up the wall.
xXx
Xavier sat in his chair, feeling weak and thin as paper, as refined and empty as tea. He took a long, shuddering sigh as he looked down at the wad of plastic explosives in his lap with the counter frozen at two seconds. All he had to do was push the "resume" button and all the pain, all the sacrifice, all the difficult choices would go away.
Also on his lap was the cell phone with Geraint's number programmed on the speed dialer.
Xavier reviewed his options, alone in the dim room, while blood congealed in the room next door. He thought through the possibilities, the best case scenarios, the worst case scenarios.
The cell phone or the timer. The fateful choice before him, his instincts pulling him towards the phone while his weary soul longed for the flash and oblivion.
Seconds ticked by, looming in him as he squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the button.
"This is Geraint," he heard, far away and tinny.
xXx
"I feel like a sack of wet dogfood," Mystique managed. She looked around, noting she was on a rooftop opposite the police station. It was shortly after midnight.
"Your body was possessed by a psycher who was micromanaging it," the spider ghost said simply, "and you owe me."
"Ah yes," she said dryly. "Better than coffee to wake a girl up."
"Hey, I saved you and got your body back. It's been a rough night, in fact a stupid couple of days and it's your fault so I'm not in a generous mood. I'm not a believer in counting on you to let me redeem my favors later, so here's what I want."
"Please, no hedging, I'm not a psychic," she managed, slowly sitting up. "Can't we just get to the point? I'm thirsty, too, thanks for asking."
"Cry me a river. First, leave the Stacys and that stupid Parker kid alone. The only reason they're involved is because you involved them. Got it?"
She shrugged. "The op is scrubbed and I had my fun. Sure."
"You had your fun? What's that supposed to mean?" the spider ghost snapped.
"Ask Parker," she said with a smile. "Never mind. What's the other favor?"
"You're gonna love this," he grinned.
xXx
"Where is he," Brilhart snapped as he dashed into the police station.
"Interrogation room three," the officer at the front desk said. Brilhart ran.
He gathered his composure outside the room, then opened the door and stepped in.
A weedy, shifty-eyed man was seated at the table, an officer on either side of him.
"You're here to confess to the theft at the museum?" Brilhart said sternly.
"Yeah, you ready to take my statement?" he said in a nasal voice.
"We've got recorders going. Continue," Brilhart said.
"My name is Jordan Wankerson, known as Slim. I copy police, I copied Stacy.The mob hired me to do a trial run on the museum, ta see if me an my gang were up to a challenge. Well, since youse all got the exhibits back, the mob tole us if we don shoot ourselfs they'll shoot us. So two a my boys are on flights to Mexico, four done shot themsefs in a warehouse, I'll give you da address, and me? I'm gonna turn states for you alls."
"A few more questions, Slim," Brilhart said with a smile, "and we'll have you in your cell."
xXx
He was waiting for her in the alley down the street from the Stacy residence.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"I gave them Slim Wankerson," she said with a shrug. "They bought it, hook line and sinker. Of course, their search doesn't do much good against me, so with my gear I was out of the station twenty minutes from when I was put in a cell. I've been Slim before, so they even have a police record on him. That's over with, and it's their fault he got away. Your man is cleared. So here we are."
"Here we are," the spider ghost agreed. "You made good on one favor. Now for the other."
"Watch," she said. "I'm walking away."
She turned and walked away, not once looking back. Peter watched her go.
Peter let out a deep sigh. What a night. He checked the time; just after two. Time for some sleep.
Ugh. He shivered at the thought of facing Harry at this point. After a moment of thought, he smiled.
His room at Aunt May's was just the way he'd left it.