The planned trip, unfortunately, shouldn't happen. Once Katja had changed clothes and Scott and she were just about to leave, Ororo landed right in front of them in the courtyard, coming out of nowhere so that Katja almost jerked the handlebars the wrong way.
"Hey! Scaring a novice driver can be dangerous." But Katja had to laugh.
Actually, you always had to be ready for something like that to happen in the last few days. Her friend was currently training her ability to fly with the help of the wind that her mutation could generate so enviably easily, a talent she had only used sporadically so far. Against Magneto's strong ground fighters, that gave her an indispensable advantage. Right now she was moving through the mansion floating more often than walking.
Keeping herself occupied like that also distracted her from her depression over this thing with Sabretooth. Thanks to Charles and Katja, too, gently urging her, she was even considering starting therapy to better process this brutal clash with her enemy at the moment. But she still didn't really want to talk about it, apart from that one evening recently when she had been able to open up to Katja at least a little. After that, the two of them had also worked on some modifications to Ororo's uniform together, so that from now on, even without the constant need for make-up, Ororo's hated enemy would at least no longer have the triumph of constantly seeing the marks he had left behind on her neck. Katja felt that had helped her friend more than any advice, no matter how well-intentioned. That made a little too much cockiness forgivable.
"Necessary risk. Charles is on the phone because there's trouble downtown again. He couldn't call you two mentally. And you didn't respond to your alarm."
Almost simultaneously with her, Katja could feel Scott behind her tugging back the sleeve of his jacket, under which there was indeed a warning flash appearing. An annoyed hiss escaped him. The engine noise had drowned out the audio signal from the two communicator watches too. "Damn it. I'll notify U.G.E.R. that these things need a vibration mode."
"When we get back," Ororo nodded impatiently. "We've got a game, Scott. I've sent Jean and Logan to get changed already."
Yes, there was no mistaking it, her condition was improving. Even now, when the next crisis seemed to be looming, she looked more motivated than as hopeless as she had right after that ugly attack on her back then. Ororo plunged back into her daily routine as if nothing had happened, and that included her work for the X-Men. In her skin-tight black uniform with the gallant cape, she looked as ravishing as ever, with her soft, endless hair and petite figure, and now that the wider collar hid the healed claw marks, preternaturally flawless again.
But it was exactly that appearance, so perfect at first glance, that inevitably stabbed Katja in the heart. This whole thing was so damn unfair ...
Ororo would have had so much to give to a partner ... She had actually always wanted a family of her own. From Scott, however, Katja knew that the young woman had always been shy in this regard. And since Sabretooth's despicable torture had left such bad scars not only on her skin, it would surely be harder for Ororo to let anyone in.
It didn't just make Katja angry ... She wished once more to be served Sabretooth's head on a silver platter.
The prospect that maybe at least the members of her future team would get to kick the guy's ass once more today in her stead even made up for the canceled date.
"What is it?" She was even quicker than Scott to take off her helmet.
"Bank robbery in western New York. They've got hostages. The news were showing Mystique and Sabretooth."
"Magneto's people are going Bonnie and Clyde on us? Something's not right here," Scott remarked. "Magneto and Mystique are both too wealthy for such primitive operations. We'll be right there."
"We?" At first, Katja was completely convinced that she must have misheard, after all the fruitless discussions with Scott and Charles about how she was far from ready for joining active duty.
And she did realize herself that she still needed a lot of training, sure, especially in hand-to-hand combat; nevertheless, she had secretly been hoping for a while now to be allowed to officially come along to such a battle again, at least as an observer. Especially because admittedly, none of her previous encounters with the Brotherhood had been planned or approved. A familiar, tingling feeling of excitement left her whole body tense. The adrenaline of conflict revived a mind exhausted after the many wistful conversations of the last few days, and the determination to stand up to Magneto and his blind aggressiveness before his provocations would eventually cause humanity to strike back with full force.
"As if I could stop you much longer," Scott replied with a wry grin. Maybe a certain someone wanted to make up for that argument regarding Katja's abilities earlier ... No, he still wasn't happy with her voluntarily exposing herself to such big threats on a regular basis. But actually, he should know this worry well enough from his time with Jean. This was something he would have to put up with, just as Katja had to deal with her own concern for him whenever he was wearing his uniform. With that, they could help each other only to a very limited extent.
"You're making more and more progress, and your mutation is important in the fight against the Brotherhood, especially now that Ororo isn't always fully focused." With a similar glumness in his gaze as Katja, he looked after his teammate, who was already on her way back inside – through the nearest open window.
"And since Magneto already managed to pump your blood dry the other day, I hope he doesn't have any reason to go after you again at the moment. As long as I can be sure you're watching your back ..."
"I always do. Like we practiced, Scott. In the background, just as a backup for Ororo in case, she needs help, for as long as possible. Oh, man ... My first mission ... Thanks!" Katja couldn't help but hug her partner tightly before she ran ahead back into the house, to the basement, to change clothes for the second time in a few minutes, returning Scott's indulgent shake of his head with a sheepish grin.
It was indeed a strange scenario awaiting the X-Men when they reached downtown on their motorcycles.
Scott was reluctant to fly the others to missions like this by jet; especially in daylight, that would have caused more attention than do good. It had always been an unwritten law that the X-Men should be seen in public as little as possible. No one was allowed to know more than necessary about this superhero team that Charles had gathered around him over time. This was the only way to ensure efficient work against hostile forces.
This discretion however also had its disadvantages. Today, the X-Men could not land directly on the roof of the bank building in question but had to approach the one-story, somewhat run-down building the old-fashioned way: by sneaking up a narrow side street.
Using the communication system in his ride, Scott had tapped into the police radio on the way; for him, as a tech geek, one of his easiest tricks. Now at least the X-Men knew what was going on.
By the looks of it, Mystique and Sabretooth had barricaded themselves in the entrance hall of a small private bank, firing old-fashioned firearms at anyone who tried to get too close. A S.W.A.T. unit was already preparing to attack, but the ever-present fear of mutants, especially those as untamable as the Brotherhood members, had clearly sounded through the brief radio messages.
"Some instrument is out of tune here, and it's screwing up the whole orchestra." Still with that suspicious frown, Scott stopped at the last corner before they would reach said street, under the protection of a ledge, and eyed the chaos of startled officers in the distance who were shouting wildly and unloading one heavy weapon after another from their cars, which in case of doubt would claim civilian casualties at most but were of little use against mutants with such powerful gifts.
"Magneto doesn't risk this much attention unless he's up to something really big. And he doesn't need to rob a bank to fund his plans."
"He hasn't been particularly successful lately," Jean objected. "Maybe he lost some of his hidden accounts because of his imprisonment. Funding the Brotherhood on her own for months might have taken a toll on Mystique's finances, too. Still, even if they really had to use such methods all of a sudden, Mystique and Sabretooth don't need firearms to escape the police. Let's go in. By the time they decide what to do, the hostages may already be dead."
She also nodded briefly to the many armored vehicles and uniformed personnel gathered in front of the bank, where there seemed to be little activity other than a lot of siren noise going on.
"How many prisoners were they talking about?"
Ororo's posture had tightened noticeably, a faint white shining in her pupils already. The fact that she would encounter her nemesis again in just a few minutes transformed her once so leveled aura into the belligerent fury of a predatory cat, her soft features into the pinched grimace of a killer who could hardly wait for her victim to show up. This rage was better than if she had directed it against herself ... Nevertheless, it frightened Katja. This was simply not how they all knew the young woman, who'd used to be such a great role model for the students, with her cheerfulness, her kindness, and her optimism despite every fear of the future.
"Two employees and one customer. The bank was about to close when it happened. If Magneto's people are unlucky, the day's takings have already been taken away. They're not here for the buck."
Scott snapped out of his aimless musings for the time being with a final perplexed shrug and got Logan to join him at the front with a brief gesture of two fingers, as they'd practiced in simulations over and over again in the last few weeks, to adjust to the current team constellation, in which the two men with their exceptionally strong defensive skills were simply best suited to act as shields in the advance.
As soon as they wore their uniforms, the constant competition and antipathy between these two fortunately no longer mattered. Most of the time, Logan even spared Scott his provocative snark when the situation became serious. Only smoking away his nervousness with one of his obligatory cigars, even in the middle of a mission, Scott still hadn't been able to dissuade Logan from.
"And what are you going to tell them when we walk by, Scooter? That we're headed for the strip club next door?" Logan's skeptical gaze was also directed at the cops.
"If you don't like your uniform, you're still very welcome to ask Angelica or Steve Rogers for their tailor, Claws. And no, that won't be necessary. Banks generally have extensive basement facilities." Scott shot a manhole cover between them almost silently into pieces with one of the finer settings on his VISOR.
"Is it just me or have we spent more time in the sewage than on the surface lately?" Jean shuddered, looking down at the poorly lit tunnel.
"I'll lend you my enhanced senses for a day, Red, then you get to talk." Logan was obviously no longer in the mood to wait. Unimpressed, he jumped down first, once again assuming the right of the leader without even asking.
Again Katja admired Scott's self-control. Fortunately, a good team boss knew when to prioritize; her partner visibly struggled to stifle a cutting comment.
"Be careful," he merely admonished the rest of them, clearly looking at Katja a moment longer than the rest of his people. "I have a feeling we're being expected."
Avery let his gaze wander around the counter hall once more and nodded in satisfaction. So far, everything was going according to plan. A plan the details of which he'd been working on himself after the next letdown at the Xavier Institute, to finally move things in the right direction of as much unrest in the team of his enemies as possible.
Magneto had agreed to his suggestions surprisingly quickly. The guy probably wanted to test Avery's competence.
That was all right. Avery, after all, hadn't been too hot on this job from the start and wouldn't have jumped off a bridge if they'd kicked him out. But so far, all of this was more fun than expected, admittedly.
He had entered the store of this rather unknown bank chain intentionally just before they could close up, to open an account, with a well-practiced contrite face and many apologies for the trouble. Which had actually got him a free glass of champagne and the telephone number of a cute assistant.
While he'd still tried to fight his way through the usual mountain of forms, Mystique and Sabretooth had then stormed the building as agreed, right on time after almost all the other employees had gone home.
The remaining ones were visibly scared half to death, suddenly confronted with heavily armed mutants. One of them – as Avery had immediately noticed – had been able to sound the silent alarm before Mystique had unmistakably ordered her to the vault.
The other one, the brunette little mouse in the much too-tight pantsuit, had burst into hysterical tears and had not calmed down even after several more or less friendly requests.
Sabretooth had solved the matter in his own way, rushing the woman without hesitation and taking her out with a brutal fist blow that had made the victim's jawbone crack alarmingly.
Enough reason to leap forward – with anger not entirely feigned – and avenge the damsel in distress. Avery had never liked people crashing his dates.
Avery would have bet that Sabretooth had also honestly enjoyed giving him an equally unnecessarily hard punch to the chest that had left a few bruises and claw marks. The two of them didn't have a lot in common, to say the least, and had been avoiding each other ever since they first met. Achieving one's goals, as Avery used to, with subtlety and deliberation was not accessible to someone who regularly caught his dinner with his bare hands in the woods.
Of course, Avery hadn't been knocked out right away, but it had looked that way to the remaining staff and surveillance systems, and that was what mattered. He hadn't unlearned much since he'd picked up the art of acting himself as a teenager, back in the day not least to finally make it a little further in a certain street gang the leader of which had constantly slowed him down out of jealousy.
Once the other assistant had opened the safe, Mystique was able to send her off into the realm of dreams as well, and finally turn off the annoying cameras. The sudden silence after all that nagging and sobbing was a relief to all their ears.
With an acknowledging nod, Mystique approached Avery, who was still lying on the ground with his arms folded under his head, content for now to watch the situation. "All that's missing now is our dear brothers and sisters. You can get up your ass now, by the way, hero of the day."
"Oh, I'm fine here, thank you." Avery sat up a little, leaning back comfortably against the counter and briefly feeling down his sternum with his fingertips. Nothing fractured, and the small wounds were already starting to close without him having to do that himself with his gift.
Painful but clean work. Fine, maybe Sabretooth wasn't that bad at controlling himself when he was told exactly what to do.
"Has your lapdog cleared the sewer access yet?"
From downstairs, a dull bang sounded, the bursting of metal and solid rock, making an answer unnecessary.
Shortly after, they could hear Sabretooth raging in the vault, dragging the captured money down into the corridors. Not that they really needed it according to Mystique's arrogant elaborations, but a few reserves never hurt.
"I don't suppose the absurd idea of helping him has entered your mind?" Mystique bent over him with a roll of her eyes to rip his shirt open a bit more quite rudely and make a mess of his hair, with a visibly disgusted expression on her face but at least not quite as careful about touching him as she had been at first.
Good. The safer these people felt in his presence, the better.
"I'm not hired as a luggage carrier", Avery informed her kindly. "Are you quite done groping me?"
There was a visible twitch in Mystique's left fist, but when it came to it, this woman had far better control than the caveman acting as her colleague. Too bad, really. A little more close combat training right now would have at least relieved the boredom.
"We're done," Sabretooth reported when he entered the counter hall again.
He looked down disparagingly at the two employees lying motionless on the floor, both covered in blood from the wounds on their faces. The smell of those visibly provoked Sabretooth's instincts. "Why can't we just off them? They look like they'd make for a proper dinner."
Avery rubbed his forehead wearily, trying hard to bite back the urge of instantly fixing his hairstyle again. These were the moments when he did start to wonder again why he'd agreed to be part of this whole bad comedy.
"Because they have to confirm that I was here as a customer. And because it would be slightly conspicuous if they were dead and I wasn't."
Sabretooth grimaced in disappointment, visibly with an objection on his lips, but then suddenly raised his head and sniffed, his eyes narrowing. His posture tensed like that of a predatory cat preparing to pounce. "They're here."
"About time. What do I have to watch out for?" Avery asked, only moderately interested. As far as fights went, he'd never had to worry much about tactics. After all, if a situation got risky, he could always fly or melt out in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, he now had two people at his side whom he would have to watch out for whether he liked it or not if he didn't want to get on Magneto's bad side.
"Look like you're in pain and keep your eyes open. The most important thing is to know your enemies, all their strengths, and especially all their weaknesses. Keep calm and watch your masters work." Mystique changed her appearance into that of a young woman in business attire and sat down on the floor next to him.
"The current X-Men team has at least the strength of four people, doesn't it? Unless I forgot how to count, I doubt you're going to look anything close to masterful."
"Wait and see, Junior." Sabretooth swung behind the checkout counters and took cover.
Following Mystique's lead, Avery lay down and half-closed his eyes, not in the mood for any more childishness. Perhaps, in truth, he was also a little more nervous than he wanted to admit. The new things he'd learned about the X-Men from Magneto were indeed disturbing. As a team, these people were remarkably strong. Avery would not have as easy a time achieving his goal as he had originally thought.
Of course, he still could have approached the whole thing differently. Keep watching the Xavier mansion until he could be sure he could move there unseen, catch his old enemy at a good moment, and burn his heart out with a single grip ... But that would have been far too easy, and bigger plans held the danger of too many people interfering. He wanted to see this bastard suffer, and it should be spectacular, yes. But the stage at the crucial moment of execution had to belong to Avery alone. For the moment, therefore, he had to use the Brotherhood's help, as little as that suited him.
Well, after so many years of standing still, a little more waiting made no difference.
"Jean, do you sense anything? How many are in there?"
"No more than four or five people." Jean closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate better without slowing down, relying on her teammates for cover once they'd indeed made it through the underground to the bank's office premises on the ground floor, but her frustrated expression revealed that she couldn't make out any clear telepathic vibes. In some respects, her gifts were not developed enough for that yet. Charles had advised her as a child already to take it slow with exploring her mutation, as Katja knew. You could get lost in mental powers faster than you'd like.
"You're right, Scott, something very strange is going on in there."
"We should have taken Kitty with us," Katja sighed. "She could just stick her head through the wall."
"So Sabretooth could snap her neck in case she's standing in the wrong place? I don't think so," Ororo rebuked her unusually gruffly.
"Don't even think about it. I have to slow the teenagers down enough as it is. If Kitty, Marie, and Jubilee did half as much for school as they do for their training, they could graduate in a month. That door up ahead smells like a trap. Maybe we should take a shortcut."
Pausing, she pointed at the concrete barrier right between two entrances. "Right behind that or behind the one between the next two, the counter hall should be. I memorized the site plan on the way."
"I'll remind you when we're ending up in the men's room," Jean next to her let out.
"Don't worry, there's probably fewer dicks being waved around in there than every time those two guys have to spend more than ten minutes together."
Ororo had only an extremely charming wave for her male teammates to spare when they simultaneously gave her extremely irritated looks. It was pleasantly refreshing that she, of all people, was able to engage in these moments of levity again despite the recent horrible incidents. The superhero business was serious and tough enough. Without a smile in between, bitterness quickly became too strong.
"You know I could kick you off the team for a lack of respect for your leader, right?" The corner of Scott's mouth were twitching as well when he quietly, hurriedly began knocking at said two walls to make out by the resistance the correct position with certainty. Though his slightly peculiar humor usually tended to be limited to the occasional vicious sarcasm, he too was visibly relieved to see Ororo a little more exuberant, even if it was at his expense.
"But then who's going to hold your hair when you have to throw up something again you shouldn't have swallowed?" Ororo just laughed softly and obediently ducked a bit to the side together with the others as Scott gestured for them to take cover.
Yes, it had indeed been the right position. Once Scott had shot a hole through said wall, they were standing in the back of said customer center.
None of the Brotherhood members was to be seen for the time being. But on the floor a few meters away lay four lifeless figures.
Jean ran toward them without waiting for a prompt. Logan's impulsiveness was visibly beginning to rub off, and her instincts as a doctor surely made it difficult for her to waste time at the sight of red-stained clothing.
But it was Logan, of all people, who rudely yanked his partner back by the shoulder before a warning shout had even come from Scott's lips.
Just in time. One of the alleged victims jumped up the very next second and wanted to pounce on Jean with a few quick jumps and somersaults.
Logan went between them without even thinking about it and took the knife right to his chest that had actually been meant for his girlfriend.
Katja let out a suppressed cry. You didn't get used to certain things, even if you knew almost for sure that they would end well. That didn't make it any easier to deal with the sight of a teammate going down badly injured ... or even your own partner.
Jean, however, had better control over herself, surprisingly, than she did. She probably just knew Logan's powers too well by now. Just a shade paler than before, but without batting a lid, she ripped the blade back out of Logan's body with the help of her telekinesis and hurled it back at Mystique in the same breath, so that the enemy could only barely dodge it and promptly got delivered a deep cut in her arm.
Logan's loud snarl when he woke up again - almost immediately - would have done Sabretooth credit. Thanks to his mutation, the injury indeed bothered him far less than it would have with Jean, but it still left him breathless. Unfortunately, his mutation did not include insensitivity to pain, and such a blade deep in the flesh could not be exactly pleasant. A first attempt to get up again failed. Breathing as shallowly as possible, he waited, impatiently, for his powers to close the wound. Large drops of sweat stood on his forehead.
While Scott and Ororo ran off in different directions upon Scott's appropriate hectic gesture to protect the two groups of actual victims, Jean lunged at Mystique again, one arm extended defensively to ward off any further attacks from her opponent with her own gift.
She never made it to reach the enemy, who'd long taken her real shape again but was still busy for a moment, provisorily closing with her cell-altering powers that cut that went deep enough to show the white of a bone.
Sabretooth leaped out from behind a counter to all their surprise, grabbing Jean to lift her high above his head.
A thick, red blast that hit him square in the chest, however, caused the bastard to quickly drop his victim.
The satisfied grin when Sabretooth collapsed was immediately wiped off Scott's face by a kick to the pit of his stomach.
Mystique was quick as ever to launch another attack, and the hateful grimace on her face when she forced Scott to the ground with only the strength of her legs, the nails of her right hand suddenly turned to inches-long, razor-sharp claws, didn't speak of her being in a particularly considerate mood.
Ororo ran off immediately, after a choppy, warning headshake Katja's way, before Katja could even think about ignoring everything Scott regularly drilled into her, even and especially when it came to situations where he was in danger himself.
But Mystique quickly got herself out of Ororo's reach with a double flick-flack, snorting in pity. "You two, really? Do the others still allow you to play? Must be frustrating when you can't do anything with your powers indoors."
Ororo didn't waste time with an answer. This time, the whitish glow of her powers covered her pupils completely. A strong gust of wind yanked Mystique backward, flinging her harshly against the side wall of the hall.
An almost inaudible groan escaped her enemy's lips. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the back of her head. A few red stains marked the formerly white wall when she pushed away from it and vanished behind the counters with a still frighteningly fast twist through the air.
Sabretooth let out an enraged roar. He was about to attack Jean again, apparently not daring to approach Ororo in this situation, but Scott had quickly recovered as well in spite of the fortunately only small trickles of blood seeping from a few cuts in his uniform below his navel.
Seeing Scott's hand on the controls of the very VISOR Sabretooth had just made painful acquaintance with made the bastard slow down noticeably. Maybe even such a primitive animal could learn every now and then.
Sabretooth's expression darkened even further when Katja finally found – much too late for her taste – an ideal position near a window of the lobby, far off as promised but with a clear view of the rapidly darkening evening sky, and lightning began to flash far above her head, the first bolt just barely missing the bastard's head thanks to his quick dodge, frying an ATM in the corner instead.
For a moment they all stood thus motionless, weighing their next move.
Sabretooth ended the dance surprisingly, tossing a smoke grenade into the middle of the room, its stinking, dense effects settling painfully over everyone's airways. "Enough fun for today."
Despite a painful cough and poor vision, the X-Men could make out that the enemies were fleeing into the basement, presumably leaving the scene via the same route the team had entered.
By the time Ororo had pushed the smoke out to an open window with the help of a well-aimed gust of wind, the enemies were out of sight.
Scott turned to the others immediately. For all the rivalry, concern for injured team members was always his first priority, and long before he even really seemed to acknowledge his own damages, slowing Katja's worried approach down with a calming shake of his head.
"Claws, you alright?"
"I can still blow your lights out with one hand if that's what you mean. Jean, is that guy still alive too? Guy smells like a dummy."
Logan's partner and Ororo were kneeling next to one of the other victims, after making sure the two bank assistants were only having minor wounds.
"Well, that's something I've never been called before," a faint male voice murmured from the same direction.
Scott startled, spinning around, exchanging another look with Katja, this time a quite disconcerted one when they both realized who this customer was who had supposedly been taken hostage there.
And that Scott had indeed been right from the start, both yesterday and today: Something was extremely off here. Certain coincidences simply did not exist. Not twice in such quick succession, not in a city of millions like New York. "Avery? Avery Anderson?"
"Do I know you, friend?"
The young man sat up slowly, carefully, smiling gratefully at Ororo, who helped him. "Thank you, beautiful. Wicked hair color."
But then the slight daze fell away from Avery. Only now, he really seemed to be seeing, and recognizing Scott and Katja. The grin disappeared at once. "Summers? You put a tracker on me or what?"
He braced himself on the counter, still slightly wobbly on his feet. "And Cat, I should have known. You really have a problem with people who mean well, don't you? Did you two send those maniacs after me? Haven't you done enough already, Summers?" He instinctively took a few steps backward, looking around for the nearest exit.
Ororo, though visibly confused by the situation herself, motioned Scott to stand down before an annoyed comment regarding this nonsense could escape him.
Slowly, she walked toward the young man again and raised a hand reassuringly. "Now, take a deep breath. We're the good guys. We came here to help."
Avery only backed away further. "Sure, especially Summers, as usual. You've got some pretty shitty company there, young lady, no offense."
He turned away abruptly and hurried to the door, still swaying a bit from blacking out a moment ago.
Jean quickly locked it with the help of her powers. "Wait."
She, too, had correctly interpreted Scott's and Katja's shock and knew that the X-Men needed some answers before they could let Avery go.
"What the fuck?" Avery shouted, upset. "I want to get out of here!"
"If you run out of there like a startled deer, some cop may lose his nerve and shoot you. No one wants that. In case you haven't noticed, the people who held you captive are just as much our enemies as they are yours." Irritated, Ororo pointed at the bruises and abrasions Jean had gotten from kissing the ground so ungently, and the large tear in Logan's uniform, the drying blood on his skin, his hand. "If you have five minutes, we'll explain everything. And maybe you'll have some answers for us, too."
Ororo glanced briefly at Scott and Katja. "I suppose you already know more than you should anyway. As I always say, actually, we need masks."
"Over my dead body," Jean objected dryly.
"So, Avery, what do you say? Something's definitely weird here. I think we can agree on that. It's better we sort it out right away."
"Oh, we will," Scott threw in in a voice that was only barely controlled. "I'm extremely curious to hear how he's going to sell it this time us that we're running into each other again."
"Talk to the hand, Summers."
Avery looked around once more, visibly taking in the sight of the team without showing a lot of what he thought about it.
Ororo's and Katja's capes. The gaping spots on Logan's gloves. Scott's VISOR.
That last detail held the young man's attention a little longer, then he made a point to turn his attention back to Ororo. "I haven't had good experiences with mutants so far, as I've already told Cat. And every time I try to forget that, you people prove me right all over. But I do want to know what's going on here. Who do you guys think you are? Superman or something?"
Katja snorted despite the tense situation, and although the confusing games this guy was playing were seriously starting to get on her nerves. "You're not far off."
Jean made a dismissive gesture her way, but her eyes were sparkling. Probably the others were mostly glad that Katja hadn't gotten herself into trouble again. At least not any with the Brotherhood.
"Go outside, Avery, but slowly. Make your statement to the police, but leave us out of it. Just say the enemies were gone when you woke up. Then come here." She handed the young man a small card with the coordinates of one of the many far-off corners in New York where the team often met up with old friends and allies.
Avery nodded hesitantly. "The answers have to come from you guys, though. I'm the most normal person in this room."
"You probably wouldn't hear anyone here disagree with that."
Jean looked Avery firmly in the eye once again. "Remember, the most important thing for our group is anonymity. It's the only way we can protect people from robberies like this."
"The lady with the white hair is right: With masks, you wouldn't have such problems," he commented.
"Don't worry, I'll keep my mouth shut. After all, it looks like you saved me. Those maniacs might have really killed me otherwise. I probably have to be thankful they didn't do it right away. See you in a bit."
"Be quick."
Jean unobtrusively gave Scott another look so stern and prompting when she passed him by that even her leader followed her silently, even too agitated to immediately reproach Avery further.
Katja followed the two and the others as well despite the ever-growing uneasy feeling about this guy in the pit of her stomach, trying hard to preach herself patience. Together they disappeared again by the sewer, while Avery left the bank with his hands up to inform the authorities.