Summary : The X-men are going to make it home, but will they all be in one piece when they get there? This is part eight of my Kimble series, you will need to read the others before starting this. See my profile for details.
Notes : Rated M for language, violence, and sexual situations.
AU but only because I chose to change a few things in my dear friends' histories for simplification, nothing drastic so please forgive. I wrote this for a friend who didn't read the comics so there is a bit of back history and explanation on who everyone is and what their powers are. I've been working on this story for years so I do ask that you don't use any of my non-Marvel universe characters without my permission. I love my Siskans as I do my children.
Art for Adrift has been added to my website if anyone is interested in taking a peek at it. See my profile for the link.
BJ2 - I hope that I will have enough material that you won't get a chance to miss my guys. I have a lot written and a bunch more I'm noodling around with. Unless my shift at work changes or I have to pull a lot of overtime, I should be posting each week for a while. Thanks for chiming in!
Pinklittlewitch – I do apologize for some of the chapters being a bit short. Sometimes I have it that way because of a scene change – from Kimble back to the guys on the ship – but mostly it was because this was originally an illustrated work. I use Corel and have to space my pictures accordingly if there's something I wanted to draw. Through the Looking Glass had 12 pictures in it, kinda of a lot for me. I'm sorry if your computer freezes up during a chapter change, I admit that doesn't happen to me often here and didn't realize it was a problem. Unless I have a big dramatic fight scene coming up, it shouldn't be as bad going forward. – SQ.
10-13-13 - Well, having so many chapters is still a pain in the butt when you have to go through and put all the missing separations back in! Grr! Updated to add (break)s as needed and to fix some punctuation errors.
(One)
Deep within the bowels of the underground level of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children, Scott Summers walked down the hallway, trying his best not to brood. He was a young man, in his early thirties and in fine athletic shape. He was a mutant like most folks here and the only thing marring his otherwise good looks was the red lensed visor across his eyes. That visor had earned Scott the codename Cyclops, something he hadn't always appreciated. It was hard enough being a mutant by itself, but it was worse to be so afflicted that everything you saw was red.
Red. That's what Logan used to call his wife.
Scott had the good fortune to be married to the resident redhead, Jean. She was the love of his life and that alone counteracted any misgivings he might have had about being born different from everyone else. Unfortunately, Cyclops wasn't the only one who had feelings for Jean. Logan had made it quite clear he would be happy to take Jean off of Scott's hands anytime he wanted, something that had always been a thorn in Scott's side. While Scott had been secretly relieved not to have to worry about that particular problem anymore since the disappearances, Jean had not. She was still mourning the loss. When his wife mourned, Scott mourned as well, it was like a constant low lying headache just behind his eyes. He hated her sadness and wished that she would let the little furry bastard go. It had been weeks now and all hope of his return had long since dried up.
Scott made his way to the Security Room and shouldered the door open, his hands were full. One held a nice iced coffee, the other a book. He was reporting for duty, taking his turn manning the radio here at the Xavier mansion. One of the squads had been sent out on a mission this morning and while no one expected them back anytime soon, it was required that someone sit here at the monitoring desk all the same. It was boring most of the time, but also a good chance to catch up on a little light reading.
Cyclops took in the room, his training making such things automatic for him. He saw Rogue and Jean chatting towards the back, just hanging out in front of the video monitors. The Professor had installed a massive and secret video surveillance system that covered the entire house and grounds. It was all quiet today, just a warm spring day coming to a close.
The girls were not alone in here. Robert Drake was there manning the communications desk, his head back and his feet up on the desk. An open comic book lay across his chest but he wasn't reading it, he was out cold asleep.
Scott grinned. Payback time.
Cyclops had the reputation for being stiff, a boy scout, a follower of rules. Rodger Ramjet. While he did little to change that opinion of him, it wasn't always true. There were a few moments, like now, when he would dare to let the lighter side of himself out for a spin. Besides, it was only fair.
Just that morning, Bobby, the resident practical joker, had pulled yet another grand stunt. Bobby earned his codename, Iceman, by being able to create ice at any time by freezing the ambient moisture in the air. Bobby had risen in a spectacularly good mood that day and decided to share his levity by sneaking into Scott's office for yet another little prank. He had gone up to Scott's large mahogany desk and first created blocks of ice inside all of the drawers and then topped off that mess by using superglue to seal them shut. Scott, at first driven mad by his inability to get his desk open, was given further insult when, after he smashed the drawers open, was rewarded with a nice little flood. That action could not go unanswered.
Payback time.
Scott carefully set his drink to one side and raised his book. It was a nice thick one, The Stand by Stephen King. The unabridged version. He raised the book and slammed it down on the floor with a bang. Bobby bolted upright in his seat with a startled shout, his comic book fluttering away like a frightened bird. The moment Bobby was up, Scott continued the joke by going into full drill sergeant mode and shouting, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Drake! Do you think this is some kind of joke! This station is to be manned at all times by alert and ready personnel! What if this had been an emergency! Get on your feet!"
Iceman staggered to his feet in a drunken daze, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, his sandy blonde hair rumpled and sticking up in all directions, his arms and legs twitching like a spastic trying to do a disco dance. He wasn't altogether sure who was yelling at him or why, or what he should even be doing about it. It was hilarious and Scott struggled to keep the laugh out of his voice as he finished his rant.
At the sound of Scott's booming voice both Jean and Rogue had come running, but they stood easy now, trying not to giggle. It was always worth it to watch Bobby get his comeuppance, even if the payback wasn't nearly as good as the prank that preceded it.
Scott looked at his wife, laughing now, thinking not only was the payback rewarding, the whole thing had been worth it just to see Jean smile. She was looking on him now, her green eyes glittering with only the purest love. Life was good again.
"What the hell!" Bobby cursed. He was getting his bearings back, the laughter trickling through to his addled brain and informing him that this time the joke was on him. "Jeez, man! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Next time, no snoozing on the job," Scott admonished, the team leader coming back into his voice. "You know the rules, you snooze, you loose."
Bobby grumbled, stooping down to pick up his comic book. It was the latest issue of Batman and not all that thrilling. The rules, those stupid rules. It had become instituted that anyone caught sleeping on the job automatically had to pull double duty their next shift. He took his comic book and his complaints and left the room, smoothing a hand through his poor rumpled hair.
"Now that was sweet, Sugah," Rogue praised, raising her gloved hand for a high five. Rogue was covered as she always was, from her neck to her feet with clothing and a full body stocking, keeping her dangerous skin away from any who might touch her by accident. Lately though, she had been taking more risks, wearing tube tops and belly shirts when she wasn't on duty, leaving some skin exposed.
This moment however, she was discreetly covered and Scott slapped his palm to hers. "Any word from the others?" he asked, referring to the team that had gone out that morning.
"Not yet," Rogue answered, her voice warm with a slight Mississippi drawl. It had been years since she'd gone back home, but the accent remained.
"That's okay, it'll give you time to catch up," Jean replied to that, picking up Scott's book and handing it over with another beaming smile.
"Thanks," he said, melting inside as he gave her a loving kiss. What he felt for her couldn't be described. He need not have worried, she was a telepath and bonded with him so deeply, no words would ever be needed. She may have missed Wolverine, but it was Scott she truly loved.
Rogue made a soft noise and they broke away, not wanting to offend this girl who would never know the true physical touch of a loved one.
Jean stepped back and Scott settled in his seat, the moment passing away. He watched as the girls next moved away and back to their conversation, just another spot of time in another dull day. That was until a strange voice next crackled over the radio.
"Good Charlie, Good Charlie. This is the Lucky Dragon. Do you read me? Come in, over."
Scott sighed with impatience. It hadn't happened often, but there had been a few pranks over the line in the past. He had no reason to believe this was anything real. He picked up the mike and clicked the talk button. "I'm sorry, but this is a private frequency. I don't know how you found it but you'd best be moving on."
"Good Charlie, this is the Lucky Dragon. Switch for video, please."
Cyclops grumbled. Months ago, Beast had used that high powered brain of his to install a digital video receiver into the communications system. It wasn't very practical, only the Blackbird jets had sister systems in them that could be used with it. Scott did not recognize the voice or the call sign of this wacko trying to speak with him, it certainly wasn't someone from the team that had flown out that morning. How could this bozo possibly know that Henry had installed the video system... unless?
He switched the button for the video and sat in his chair, stunned. He could see a high quality video shot of what? Two strange looking white people in what seemed to be some sort of cage. Were those wings? What could be weirder than this? "I'm sorry.." Scott stammered again. "This is a private line."
"Hey, Boy Scout," Logan greeted, standing up to better fit into the view. "Guess who's back."
Scott's mouth popped open, the shock too great to be hidden. "I don't believe it!"
"Good morrow, Mr. Summers," Fallen interjected, showing off a little bit. She had guessed at his identity from his visor and Logan's use of the nickname. "I am Fallen, First Pilot of the Clan and Captain of the Lucky Dragon. I believe I have something that belongs to you."
Scott's face broke out into a wide smile. He looked behind him, gesturing with this hands for the girls to come. "Jean! Rogue! You're never going to guess who just called in!"
The two women came over, their faces showing they thought this must be some kind of joke. It didn't last long. Rogue broke out in a wide smile. "Oh, my Lawd! Where you boys been?"
Logan grinned. "Here and there. Hey, Red," he greeted, his eyes all over Jean.
Scott sat there, his mind reeling. For the moment he was simply too excited to even care that Wolverine, who had been gone for weeks, was still ogling his wife. "Henry, is that you?"
"Yes, Scott. It's me. We're home, safe and sound."
Rogue's eyes searched the screen, a small frown teasing the corners of her mouth. She had noted the absence of a particular someone. "Where's Remy?"
Fallen glanced over at the passenger seats and said nothing, her eyes a little tired and sad.
