Avenging Justice:

Two Worlds Collide

Part XXIII

Earth, New York, West Chester, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

"Xavier, we go way back," said Warren Worthington II.

A well-dressed man stood at the window looking out at the grounds of Charles Xavier's ancestral home, and the site of his special school. His look is that of a man not sure how to handle something out of his reach. Powerful, with the wealth that came with it, he was used to fixing things. His position was one normally of the powerful, except he felt anything but. He had found a problem, and had turned to an old associate.

Warren turned, looking the most serious Charles had ever seen, "I know you wanted Warren to come a few years ago, but with the divorce I didn't think it was the right time. Things though…they're getting…"

"Complicated," Xavier acknowledged, his bald head reflecting part of the sun coming in from the window. "I take it he's not that easy to reign in? You shouldn't be surprised, he is your son, after all."

The elder Worthington growled, "This is different, he's my boy."

"There isn't anything to be ashamed of," Xavier wheeled his chair around. "He is gifted, but he's still your son."

"This isn't my strong suit," Worthington II sighed. "I..I think it's time I took you up on your offer."

"Listen, this is the best decision you could make for him," Xavier tried to let his reassurance warm his voice. He could use his gift, but relying on it too much would result in it becoming a crutch. "Here he can safely explore his abilities, and he'll be around others like him."

"Then why do I feel like I'm abandoning him?" the other man aged ten years in an instant.

Xavier put a hand on his arm, "Because you care. He was lucky to have you for as long as he did. The students here escape situations much, much worse."

By that night, the younger Warren Worthington was making his way to his room. His father was there, not sure what to do. However, they both felt relieved as a young woman with scales and gill walked down the hall. Next to the cloud white wings hidden under Warren Worthington III's long coat, she was even weirder looking. Father and son exchanged a look, before the younger Warren laughed and felt into the bed.

Outside a beat up truck pulled into the long drive. Next to it a large dark van pulled up, a very orderly looking woman stepped out. She gave the occupants of the beat up truck a wide berth. Her look of trepidation said it all, but as her gaze fell upon the young woman, a protective instinct fell over her. Even if the rough looking man triggered all her flight instincts, she wasn't about to leave before finding out if the girl was okay.

Logan caught sight of the leery woman watching him like a hawk, "Easy there, girly. You work here?"

Ignoring him, she spoke directly to Jubilee, "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah! Don't worry about Logan here, once you get through the smell, he's awesome," Jubilee answered.

"I'm not feeling appreciated here," Logan growled. "Come on, Sparkly Hands."

Jubilee smiled, "The grumpiness too, but he's a good man. Bye!"

That left the driver to wonder just what kind of place this was. She had been hired to chauffeur some arrivals from the airport. It was good money, and most of her passengers were enthusiastic. One was a wide-eyed young woman, who spoke with a heavy accent. The driver couldn't place it, it was something akin to what she heard from Egyptian tourists, but different. She liked her, as the young woman was very inquisitive, with an air of mystery about her.

The girl, Ororo Munroe, smiled as she stepped out of the van and took in the full view of the Xavier School. Behind her came more students, all of which reacted with giddiness at their new home. Most had been found, were alone, and ostracized by their communities. Each brought here thanks to their new benefactor and protector.

Ororo though was destined for more, as her talents would come in handy for the second team Charles was making. It was becoming more and more apparent, that just one response team was not going to work. There were too many mutants that were appearing and being put into danger. Some by their own families and communities, while others were being hunted by hate groups across the globe. This new batch of X-Men would take up the fight alongside the original team.

Charles Xavier watched the new students being led into their new home. Brought in to head up security, was the ex-cop and Interpol agent, Sean Cassidy. With roots in Ireland, he still carried the distinctive accent. Like most of the people here, he was special, and his skills would come in handy, as the missions became more complicated. Xavier knew that with the X-Men drawing more attention, things were bound to get more complicated.

Behind him came the sound of world opening and closing with a quick, "bamf" sound. At least that was the closest Xavier could come to explaining how the sound rang in the ears. A result of air rushing to replace the mass of another recruit, Nightcrawler, as he teleported. Found living in a monastery in Germany, Xavier had convinced him to come to New York, and help with the school here.

"Thank you, Kurt," Xavier smiled. "I take it Piotr has arrived?"

The blue furred, slightly devilish looking man paused for a moment before taking it in stride, "Sadly, his sister was detained."

"That is unfortunate," Xavier seemed to stare off. "Once we get the new arrivals settled in, I'll head down to Cerebro."

Kurt shrugged and disappeared into thin air, his pointed tail curling around him as he did. Xavier began to make his way to the main hall, it was time to meet everyone and explain those summoned, their opportunity. As he made his way, a blast of telepathic thought washed over him. Just for a moment he felt fear, horror and surprise overtake him. Just as quickly it was gone. That was his first sign something had gone wrong, but not the last.

He hurriedly headed towards the main hall. There was contemplation of putting off the meeting with the new students, but fate took another turn. Standing, leaned against one of the walls was one of Magneto's disciples. He went by the codename Pyro all the time now, and Xavier could remember when he went by his given name. Instead, he had fallen into the thought process of the Brotherhood. They were willing to bring peace with Humanity, by force if need be.

"Listen Kid," Pyro went up to one of the new students. "This school is just the beginning, when you really want to take the fight to the Home Sapiens, you find the Brotherhood. We need to make them fear us, not us fear them."

Xavier waved the child away, "Run along now, find Mr. Cassidy, he'll get you signed in." Turning to Pyro he said, "John, I must ask you to leave. This place is a haven for those fleeing troubles, not a poacher's market."

"Don't call me by my slave name!" Pyro shouted. "Your team is all over the news, and you claim not to be building an army here? I'm not sure if you're that dishonest or so full of…"

"Please, no cursing in front of the children," Xavier quietly said as he held Pyro's mind still. "While, yes, I did create a reactionary force to rescue those in danger, I am not building an army. Now, return back to Mystique, and tell her she is welcome to visit any time. She'll always have a home here."

Released from Xavier's grasp, Pyro went for the lighter in his pocket. It was times like this he wished he had a less obvious flame unit, that he could wear all the time. See, he could control fire, but not create it. Increase its ferocity, make a tiny flame a conflagration, increase the heat it burned at, but he had to have a source. When he had to leave the Brotherhood's safehouses, he always took his lighter. It wasn't much, but he could cause a lot of havoc with it. He just forgot that Xavier knew this, and had helped train him to control his powers, for the limited time he'd been at the school.

Piercing Pyro's mind again, Xavier commanded, "John, I think it is time for you to leave. You're going to put the lighter back into your pocket and return home. You'll not think of this till tomorrow."

Pyro's eyes glazed and he slowly put the lighter back not his pocket. Then slowly, but deliberately he walked away, heading towards the exit doors. Moments later he was gone, driving away at the precise velocity on the speed limit sign. Not once did he look back, nor did he think about turning back. Such was the power of Xavier's suggesting, that exactly twenty-four hours later did he realize what had happened.

"Excuse me, Professor," the Irish sound of Sean's voice broke through the din in the room.

Xavier nodded, as he turned his wheelchair around, "Yes, Sean, what is it?"

"I have them all ready for you in the study," the man said in thick brogue. "There was another, smaller man, smelly, and foul tempered. He refused to leave."

Xavier chuckled, "That would be Logan, I summoned him here. I have a feeling someone like him will come in handy."

"He's wild," Sean shout back. "Dangerous even."

Xavier could argue that, "This is true, but the team needs someone that will do what the others won't. A man whose instinct can see something the rest of us can't."

"That may be, but he doesn't seem one to work for free, or one to buy into the dream," Sean countered.

Xavier knew he was right, "This is true. In time he might adopt our values, but in the meantime there is something he needs. A man who can heal from any wound, except the one he misses the most. His mind, his memories, his past are all jumbled up. I can help him, and he'll help us."

"If you say so, Professor," Sean was clearly not buying it. "I'll still keep an eye on him, if it is all the same to you."

Earth, Over California

John Stewart was not about to complain. A call from Hal "tagging" him out, so he could come back to Earth, wasn't something he was going to second guess. It had been a few months since he'd been back home, but the sight of it never failed to fill him with awe. There was always going to be disconnect, after coming home from the Marines. He'd still take the ability to come home, over not though.

Up till recently, the fighting men and women found it hard to describe their experiences to those who hadn't served. There were things one did, saw and had happen to them, that was hard to explain to those that weren't there. Sometimes when one tried, the civilian wasn't sure how to handle it, help them, or even try to understand. How could you explain watching a buddy you were just joking with, bleeding out a second later?

John had managed to get by most of these hurdles, being chosen to serve in the Green Lantern Corps helped. It gave him a purpose, a mission to keep him going. Even after reinventing himself as someone who built things, it felt good to do what he was trained for. His new band of brothers and sisters were the toughest warriors, from across the universe. A new family, a new job, and somewhere inside, same old John Stewart.

Floating in the air, taking in the twinkling lights of the cities below, he noticed a black shape haphazardly flying. Green streak behind him, John dived after the shape. It was probably nothing, but it never hurt to check out on the weird things, the unusual things on your beat. Which this object definitely classified as his ring gave him a view of what he was chasing over.

Shaped like the Blackbird the CIA was fond of, this version had front swept wings and was slightly larger. The engine exhausts were slightly different, and the material making up the skin was very advanced. His degrees were in architecture, not advanced aviation mechanics, but even he knew this wasn't your run of the mill plane.

Again, the aircraft veered, before course correcting. Whoever was flying this thing was obviously not at one hundred percent. He flew beside, finding the door on the side. The door opened with little effort, another indication that the pilot wasn't at their best. A craft like this, he expected locking mechanisms that would prevent what he was about to do.

As the door opened, he was proven right. The pilot had failed to engage the locks, but before he could muse further, the plane veered again. Now inside, John was thrown to the side, though he was able to stop himself. He rushed forward, to where a young man was fighting with waning strength to stay upright.

"Easy now, son," John gently said.

The pilot turned, immediately bringing a hand up to a visor of some sort. Luckily for John and the plane, the young man was slowed by his condition. Green Lantern was able to pull the pilot's hand away, rewarded with a grunt from the would be defender.

It was also then that John got a good look at special visor. With just a slim line running from one side to another, the visor covered both of the pilot's eye. The color, even at night, glowed an ever present red. He also made out a mechanism on the pilot's right side, that looked like it opened the visor to varying degrees. Something told him it wasn't for improved vision however.

"I'm not here to hurt you," John said more firmly.

The young man looked about to fall over, "it's all my fault, I'm the leader."

"Rest now son, where are you headed?" John asked. The young man shook his head in response.

"Need to get back to the professor," the young man said.

John nodded, "Let's get you back. If I'm reading the computer right, your coordinates are laid in. I can hold the stick steady, while you get some rest."

Earth, New York, West Chester, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

The new students were settled in, Xavier thought of them as students. Reality was a matter of perception on somethings. To them, they were outcasts, the meek, the scared. To him they were the future, one where they could use their gifts freely without fear or hatred. Here they were safe, and had a sense of community. They also shared stories of heroes rising up to protect them, which Charles Xavier was attempting to recruit more members to.

"The world fears and hates us, Chuck," Logan growled. It had taken some convincing, but Xavier had managed to get the wild man to stay on. "You think this little boy band idea is going to work?"

Sean Cassidy shot back, "This isn't a joke, Logan. We are fighting for equality and to live our lives in peace!"

"That ain't how the world works, bub," Logan shot back, setting his back against the nearby wall. "We're different, they don't like us, and that is just how it is."

Ororo took that moment to speak up, "But does that have to be how it always is? Can we not show that we can live together? Don't get me wrong, anyone comes at me, I'll light them up like a toad in a lightning storm."

"At least we'll know what your name is girlie," Logan laughed. "Our little Storm is a force of nature."

"I like it," she smiled. "Storm, primal, powerful, and unpredictable. What about you?"

"They call him the Wolverine," Xavier decided this was the perfect time to interject. "Stints in the special forces, fought with both his home country of Canada and the United States. Our friend here is far older than he realizes."

As if to accentuate that point, he slides over a tablet full of clippings going back to World War I. Logan tentatively picked it up and began to go through everything. What he saw was himself, barely aged a day, even as the dates on the clippings moved forward. Beyond World War I, there was World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. One clipping had its image enhanced to show a set of dog tags, the same set around his neck.

"I've told you all of my dream," Xavier continued on. "Now I ask you all to join me in making that dream a reality. Together we can fight back the fear and hatred that separates us, divides mutant and non-mutant."

All around him, everyone nodded, even Logan as he continued to look over his long forgotten past. This was an important moment in history, Xavier was sure, as the mission was changing, growing. Of course it was due for a snag, for an interrupting, because fate loved to make life interesting. So, it was.

As Xavier was about to continue his speech, an alarm went off. The Blackbird was back early. He hadn't heard from his team, but it hadn't caused him too much worry. Then the psychic vision came back to him in an instant. Had it been a warning, or Jean reaching out to him for help? How could he have missed it?

"Follow me," he told everyone as his wheelchair sped towards the hall.

Finding the special statue, he pushed the head back and pressed the control inside. Beside it, an elevator appears, as paneling slid back. He slid in, motioning for the others to join me. Once inside, the new team descended to what had been a sprawling bunker complex, and now was the X-Men's base of operation.

Sean ran ahead of the Professor, heading off to where the flight control station was at. As he did, the ceiling opened, admitting the now hovering Blackbird into the hangar. The new team rushed in as the jet landed, and the side door opened. What Xavier wasn't expecting was to see a Green Lantern helping Scott down the ramp.

"Found him in this state over California," the Green Lantern explained. "He made it seem like it was the utmost importance he got back here."

Professor X nodded to Kurt, who took the nearly falling over Scott from the Green Lantern. Sean came up on the other side and lead them both to the med center. He reached out with his mind, and though Scott was barely conscious, he had one clear want. Scott needed to get back and explain what happened to the others. This was something Professor X was going to have to look into, but right now Scott needed some rest.

"Thank you Lantern," Professor X sent out a mental probe.

Green Lantern Stewart looked around, "Must be running some kind of underground for Mutants. Your friend's scans came back that he was a mutant."

"You could say something like that," Professor X was digging through the man's memories, looking for any duplicity, but was having issues finding any. "We find those in danger and bring them to safety."

Stewart smiled, despite an itch developing behind his eye, "That's good. I know you're probably not very happy to see someone like me here. But I'm a friend though. Is there anything else I can do to help, before I get back to my beat?"

"Yes, if you come across any Mutants in danger," Professor X started to say.

To which John Stewart finished for him, "Send them your way. Can do. I hope we get to meet again."

"Thank you again," Professor X said. "For bringing him back home."

Green Lantern Stewart laughed, "Sometimes we all need a help back home. Keep your people safe and out of trouble."

With that the Green Lantern blasted off into the air, disappearing into a green blur of light. Sean closed the hangar doors, as Xavier went to where Scott was. He had to know what happened, where the rest of his team was at. Behind him, Sean was herding the new team into the prep area of the installation. Professor X had a feeling the debut of this new team was going to be moved up.

About an hour later, he wheeled himself into the preparation area. Everyone had taken a seat, worried looks across their faces. All except for Logan, who was looking impatient, as he leaned against one of the walls. This was not the mission he wanted to give this new team, their first mission after all. However, Jean, Hank and Bobby were in grave danger. There was no other option, he would send them in, and this time he'd go with them.

"X-Men, we go to save our own," Xavier started. "Suit up, we head out in a few hours."