To all my reviewers: Thanks for the continued support, I love writing jott, as you can tell. Here's to my muse and the strength to write an epic, cause I've got lots of plans.. Wish me luck!
Italics -Stream of thought
:Italics: - Telepathy
Consequences
Chapter 2
The War Room was quiet as the assembled filed in. Warren took the lead, tucking his wings in close to his body as he edged around the long oblong table. Ororo followed, looking her usual statuesque self even in the white sweatshirt and blue jeans she wore. Kitty skirted around the other side, appearing unusually young with her hair pulled up in a playful ponytail. Kurt trailed her, his usual somber self although his tail twitched in agitation. Bobby came in next, the long sleeves of his black turtleneck pushed up around his elbows. Betsy strolled in with her usual killer grace, her lavender eyes grazing the room in slow strokes as she sat. Then Logan, the only one to meet her eyes as he sat at the opposite end, an unlit cigar stub clenched between his teeth.
Jean decided to remain standing, cementing her position as leader. She chose her words carefully, knowing full well that even though they'd worked together for years it was up to her to set the precedent. "I know that you're all well aware of Scott's condition and that's precisely why I've asked you to come on such short notice." Crossing her arms over her chest, Jean continued. "I'm assembling a team to help me track down someone, a mutant, who might be able to help Scott. I don't want to reveal too many details, the fewer who know about it the better. But it comes down to this. I need Ororo to lead the X-Men in Scott's absence."
Bobby leaned back in his chair, his resentment plain. "I"ve been an X-Man for a long damn time, Jean. Why is it that my name isn't thrown into the hat for team leader?"
"It comes down to experience, Bobby." Jean explained, surprised by his reaction. "Ororo led the X-Men for years. She's the one for the job."
"But what if I believe my expertise will be better served helping bring Scott back to us?" Ororo arched a delicate white eyebrow. "Why am I not considered for your mission?"
Swallowing her discomfort, Jean took a different tactic. "I need Logan, Kurt and Kitty. They will help me get in and out of places with minimal detection and that will be vital. The rest of you," She motioned to the group, ignoring Bobby's discontent. "Will be better served fighting the good fight while we're gone, not to mention protecting Hank and Scott."
Warren and Betsy exchanged glances across the table. Warren nodded slightly. "I don't see a problem with this Jean. I for one," He shot a barbed look at Bobby, "Don't have anything to complain about."
"I agree. Two telepaths on one team is quite redundant, I don't like playing second fiddle to you anyhow." Betsy smiled slyly at Jean. :Don't worry about Bobby, we'll set him straight.:
"I'll be happy to do anything I can." Kitty said, quietly.
Kurt chimed in as well. "A crusade? This is familiar territory."
Logan, not surprisingly was the last to speak. "No, elf. Hopeless cause. So don't get your panties in a bunch, Frosty." His eyes shifted to catch Jean's. "We ain't doing Mardi Gras."
Resigned, Ororo stood slowly. "I am honored to lead the team again, Jean. I just wanted to do more, I suppose. We should leave them to their plans." She paused looking down for a moment as if struggling to say more before she left the room.
Bobby walked out briskly, ignoring them all. Warren and Betsy followed, closing the door behind them.
"Well, that's that." Jean said, wishing it had gone as smoothly as it had when she rehearsed it in her mind. "Now down to business. Is the jet prepped?"
"Ready to fly, Cap'n." Logan said from around the cigar.
Kitty shifted in her seat. "I have to admit, I was surprised when you called me."
"The plain and simple truth is that I need you, I need you all to help me bring back Scott. I can't think of anyone more suited to the job." Jean sat down. "We're going to San Francisco, tonight as soon as you're ready. We've got a date with X-Force."
It was Kurt's turn to smirk. He tossed a knowing glance at Logan. "Oh, this will be charming, ja?"
"Last I heard there was no love lost between X-Force and us. Whose to say that Domino won't shoot first and ask questions later?" Kitty chewed on a fingernail nervously.
"I've already contacted Nathan. He knows we're coming." Jean had been very vague in her email to Nathan, just indicating she wanted a face-to-face meeting. She only hoped that her decision to keep her intentions to herself was the right one. "But this isn't official business, per say. We're going in civvies only, but pack uniforms just in case."
Logan nodded slightly, approving of her decision. "Let's not come ready to scrap and we might not give a trigger happy girl a reason to twitch."
"All right then." Jean glanced down at her watch. "We leave in fifteen minutes."
The jet was dark as she boarded the ramp, her footfalls on the metal steps echoed through the hangar. How many times had she taken these stairs? Sometimes at a leisurely pace, at a dead run or even carried up them with strong arms beneath her. And yet, Scott had always been near, a pillar of unbreakable strength for so long that she had taken his constant presence for granted. He had always been there, protecting her. Even in the depths of the mansion, surrounded by the weight of the building above and the fuselage of the jet, she was suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable.
As soon as she stepped into the cabin of the jet, she caught a whiff of the dusky sweetness of cigar smoke. "Logan, I can't believe you're smoking in here." She stowed her bag in a locker beneath one of the seats and shut the door. "You could've at least turned on the lights."
"Not smokin' now, Red. Just waiting for the Cap'n."
"Good enough." She said, slipping into the pilot seat. Fastening the harness around her, the straps were a small comfort. At least something was holding onto her. She flipped on the nav computer, pressing her palm to the ID lock.
The computer voice greeted her. "Thank you, Jean Grey. Cycling engines now."
Lights in the cabin flickered to life, monitors flashed on as the rumble of the engines roared in the hangar. Jean knew the warm up sequence so well she flipped switches automatically, double checking the coordinates, fuel, energy out put and systems readiness. She could've done this in her sleep.
"You didn't do half bad back there." Logan offered from the co-pilot seat.
Jean nodded, distracted as she adjusted the port engine fuel intake. "Thanks. Bobby threw me though."
"Don't sweat it. You made the right move. 'Ro will take care of things."
An acrid brimstone cloud bloomed in the air behind them, revealing Kurt and Kitty each with bags in hand. "Leaving without us?" Kurt asked as he buckled himself in.
"Not a chance." Jean said quietly, pressing the series of buttons to lift the ramp and pressurize the cabin. She slid her earpiece on and typed a command into the computer, opening the hangar doors over head. "Storm?"
"Yes, Jean. You don't even have to say it, my friend. We'll get in touch if anything changes."
"That's all I ask. See you soon." Jean said quietly, engaging the thrusters that shot them out into the twilight sky.
The San Francisco skyline was striking, even in the dark of night. The peaks and spires lit from within from the random office windows against the black velvet backdrop of the San Francisco Bay. Banking left, she eased the jet down wards in a slow spiral, eying the carefully camouflaged warehouse rooftop in the seedy Mission district. As they approached, the specially designed beacon within the jet activated the landing lights on the rooftop that created a giant X.
"That's new." Jean murmured to herself, initiating the hover mode that helped them sink down slowly through the air.
The jet touched down on the specially reinforced rooftop, and the ramp lowered. Jean was the first out, her skin chilling in the damp ocean scented air. "No welcoming committee. What does that say to you?" She asked Logan, who was very close behind her.
"So far so good." He said, eyeing the surroundings carefully. "Right behind you, Cap'n."
Rooftop access for the warehouse was a small shack like structure at the far corner, no bigger than a closet with a single door. As Jean approached, a panel adjacent to the doorframe opened, revealing a monitor within. Domino's face appeared and even through the grainy connection, her irritation was plain. "Quite a boarding party you've assembled there, Jean."
"You know it's not like that, Dom." Already on her bad side. Great. "Nathan agreed to meet me."
Domino raised both eyebrows at her, her indignation plain. "Nate agreed to meet you, and only you. It's not my fault you're unable to follow simple directions. Fuck off."
The monitor went dark.
"Someone woke up cranky." Kitty whispered, a light tremble betraying her nerves.
"No worries, kiddo. We've gotcha covered." Logan edged closer to the frightened girl, his eyes on Jean. "What's our move?"
"I don't have time for this." She reached her mind out, looking for Nathan.
She found him on the second floor of the warehouse below, lying in bed in his room. She brushed against his mind gently, a telepathic equivalent of a knock at the door. :Nathan.:
:Red.: He acknowledged back, yet his mental presence was distracted as if his attention was highly focused elsewhere.
:Mind if we come in? Domino doesn't seem to think we have the password to enter your playhouse.:
Jean felt his mental chuckle. :She's been very protective lately. I'll let her know that you can come in.:
:I brought Logan, Kurt and Kitty as well, will that be a problem:
:Ah, well that explains it. Last we met, she and Logan got into it, remember? She's still pissed about that, so tell Logan to keep his yap shut.:
Jean nodded slightly. :Not in so many words, but I will.:
The monitor remained black as the door hissed, the hydraulic locks slowly cycled open. The door that looked deceptively like a weather beaten and pitted metal door opened slowly revealing the eight-inch thick slab of steel it really was. Amber lights colored the burnished steel hallway in a yellow gray glow as they followed Jean down the stairwell. "Logan, I need you not to antagonize Dom. Apparently she's still irritated from the last time you two duked it out."
"'Cause I mopped the floor with her pearly white ass, but whose countin'?"
"Logan, please." Jean paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Don't mess this up for me."
His craggy face softened under her gaze, the wicked smirk fading away. "Yeah, Jeannie. I get ya."
"Thanks."
They took the stairs down one more level to on opened door waited for them. Dom waited just beyond in a room that looked very much like the War Room back at the Mansion. It had been quite some time since she'd been at X-Force HQ, but she couldn't ever remember being in this room before. "Domino. Thanks for letting us all in." Jean knew better than to extend her hand or offer any more pleasantries than were absolutely necessary.
The woman's contempt was plain. "You're only here because Nate gave the okay. I don't need to tell you about how I feel about your band of merry men."
Acidic as usual. "May I see him?"
Domino seemed more preoccupied with staring Logan down, than listening to Jean. "Don't smile at me asshole," She patted her two holstered pistols on her hips. "I'll wipe that shit eating grin off your face so fast-"
:Logan: Jean hissed at him mentally, sending her own withering glare his way.
Kitty had stepped behind him, laying her hand on his shoulder and phasing them both. "Play nice, please." She said softly, yet her eyes were leveled at Domino.
"Yes, Dom. Put your toys away." It was Nathan. But not the Nathan any one of them remembered.
The techno virus that he'd been infected with as an infant had only been kept in check by his constant telekinetic vigilance to keep it from spreading. It had consumed his arm long ago and had taken over his left eye. Nathan was shirtless and bare footed, allowing them all to see how far the virus had spread over his body. One foot was completely metallic as was his torso and neck, tiny threads of metal extended like plant like tendrils snaking into organic skin trying to take over new territory. His skin was ashen as he leaned heavily on the doorframe into their War Room.
:Oh, Nathan.: Jean whispered in his mind. :Why didn't you tell us: Even though he was not her son by her womb, she still loved Nathan as the son that she and Scott should've had.
:What's to tell: He said back to her, subdued and defeated. "Dr. McCoy and I have had long, pointless discussions about my condition. All the treatments that worked before don't now. The virus is a smart little fucker and has adapted to everything we've thrown at it. Now it seems that even my TK can't keep it in check. But that's old news." He moved slowly to sit down in one of the chairs at a nearby console, taking special care to sit as if every movement was excruciating. "So what brings you to our humble HQ?"
Jean searched her stepson's face, scraping up the courage to give someone so obviously fragile even more bad news. "We were investigating a warehouse in Hong Kong, just about three days ago, looking into a mutant smuggling operation. It turned out to be rigged with a truck load of plastique and when it blew, Scott was unprotected." She paused, feeling the cold slice of guilt through her chest. "He was just too far away from me-" Jean cleared her throat and looked up, willing her eyes not to betray her with tears. "He caught a piece of shrapnel through his chest and-" Her voice broke.
"Is he dead?" Nathan asked, his left eye glowing intently.
"Technically, no. He's in cryo stasis while Moira and Hank try to figure out how to put him back together again."
Nathan looked at Jean stonily, absorbing the information for a long moment. "You could've told me this over the comms. Why are you here?" He smiled bitterly and smacked his fist on the console counter top, making Kitty jump. "Hank spilled the beans, didn't he?"
"Hank told me about a rumor involving Sinister and-"
"I can't fucking believe this! After all this time, now you want to chase after Sinister's little pet project. Jesus Christ!"
"Nathan!" Jean was stunned and struggled to find the words. "This is your father. Don't you think if there is anything you can do to help him-"
"Get out! You are not taking this away from me, this is my fight. MINE!" Nathan struggled to stand, his fury contorting his face into a mask of bestial anger.
To Jean's surprise, it was Domino who was the voice of reason. "Jean, let me talk to him. But leave, now." Her voice was nearly gentle as she stepped between mother and son. Helping Nathan to stand, she glanced at Jean apologizing with her eyes. "Just go."
Opening her mouth to say more, she watched in abject horror, as the tiny hairline metallic tendrils snaking across Nathan's skin seemed to swell before her eyes. The confrontation alone caused Nathan to lose focus on the techno virus and it seemed to capitalize on an opportunity to gain new ground. He's your father, he would've sacrificed his life to save you from this and you just can't see it.
"C'mon Jeannie. There's nothing to do here." Logan growled behind her.
She wrestled with herself for a moment, watching Nathan and Domino retreat into the neighboring room. Her telepathy was second only to Charles Xavier, she could pull apart his mind like an orange and eviscerate every segment for the information she needed. Had Nathan been any other person, the option would've been tempting, but this was Nathan, the closest person she had to a child. Scott's eyes looked out at her from Nathan's face and she couldn't do it, she couldn't hurt him even if it meant leaving Scott in that cold metal tube. "Fine." She said, dejectedly as she turned around to take them back to where they'd come.