The X-men gathered quickly to the war room, well, the Senior X-men did anyway, apparently Charles had only called them and none of the Junior X-men. In addition, Pete Wisdom was sitting in a chair staring forlornly at his unlit cigarette, occasionally tossing nasty looks at Betsy. Who, everyone realized, actually intended what they all thought was a bathing suit to be her costume. IT seemed all of the men except Remy, Charles, and Pete were having a hard time keeping their attention on the briefing.
Not that Remy wasn't looking occasionally, he wasn't blind after all. Pete certainly offered Betsy some attention, but it wasn't to oogle her. It was to snipe at her, or think nasty thoughts nice and loud at her. Once or twice, Charles shot them both a frown during the briefing, at picking up some of the insults being traded between the two.
"Now, the Situation is troubling. Cerebro and I have detected a powerful mutant presence in Ohio. There have also been traces of two of the Marauders chasing this mutant. Sabertooth and Scalphunter. So far, the mutant has managed to stay a few steps ahead of them but we can't count on that keeping up. Go, I will provide you with location updates telepathically. Wisdom will be staying here with me, to guard the Institute. Scott, you're in charge."
There was a temporary silence when Charles said who'd be leading. Scott had looked like he'd been about ready to console himself to another night spent watching children with Charles, and the words seemed to hit him with as much a surprise as everyone else. There was only a moments hesitation.
"Alright everyone, you heard the Professor! Let's go, there's a mutant in need of back up!" The almost now unfamiliar commanding bark in Scott Summers voice was back, just like that. Someone needed him.
After they'd filed out, and Wisdom and Xavier were left looking at eachother, Pete just arched a brow. "Y'sure that was a good idea there, Charlie? That wanker in charge in the field again?"
Charles just offered a lazy confident smile. "I have every confidence in Scott, Peter. Now you'd better go take care of the students, there's a food fight about to erupt in the Cafeteria."
Wisdom could be heard muttering something about 'lousy ankle biting toe rags, hit me with food an I'll hotknife their arses.'
The flight of the Blackbird had been in relative silence, once they took off. Only occasionally did Elizabeth speak, giving updates from the Professor for Scott to follow. The Blackbird could break Mach four when the X-men needed to, and Scott had opened the engines as far as they'd go, while Storm modified the weather to give them optimal conditions.
"We've got the last coordinantes. Elizabeth, can you contact our friend and let them know we're here to help, and get us a location? Wolverine, Gambit, Storm, the three of you are on Marauder hunting detail. Find Creed and Scalphunter, and take them down."
The self doubt, moaning despair was gone from Scott Summers voice. Each of his teammates knew it'd probably return when they got to the mansion, but for now Cyclops was his old self, and lost in the situation and tactics.
"Come on Psylocke." Scott barked, slipping from the controls and heading down the ramp, the psi scurrying to catch up.
"I've got a lock, Cyke. She's two blocks over, minor injuries. One of the other Marauders, I couldn't tell which, is close. Couldn't get more then marginal contact with her, with Gambit's powers, the Marauders dampeners, and her own fear." She wasn't surprised that she'd had to finish her sentence while trotting behind Scott in the direction she'd indicated. What did surprise her was she actually had to stretch her legs to keep up, she'd been sure he'd fallen out of shape or practice in his mourning period, but if he had.. it wasn't showing.
Nor did it, two blocks later, when sweeping around a corner his visor flared to life. Pulsating ruby red energy lighting the night, blast taking Arclight – or a clone of her – straight in the chest. She was about to ask how he'd even done that, then laughed. Of course, the way he flew the plane, or how easily he controlled the danger room, or always knew his surroundings. It'd never occurred to her that his visors weren't just controls enablers, but very likely fully cybernetic loaded, with targeting packages and who knew what kind of sensors.
Of course, blasting a super-durable super-strengther tended to not work out, in the long run, but Scott was already running past her towards the other mutant. Something seemed to have caught his eye, which gave Betsy time to form her psi-knife, and play with Arclight.
"What's that old saying again? Oh, yes. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, isn't that it luv?" Saddly, Arclight never got past the point of recovering from Scott's blast, before the psychic blade stabbed through her skull, firing her synapses off randomly, and K.O.ing her almost instantly.
"Hardly a glorious victory, hitting injured birds. This must be how Wisdom feels after most of his fights, I suppose. I'll have to ask him how he ever copes with it." Clapping her hands, Betsy set off after Scott.
"Jean? Is that you?" Scott knew what he saw. Through thermals, it looked just like Jean. Through nightvision, it looked just like Jean. Now that those were switched off, the woman ahead of him nursing her left leg looked just like Jean. Even tinted by his glasses, her hair was even just the right shade of red.
"Uhm. Who's Jean? I'm Madelyne... Nice shades." She was watching him warily, distrustfully. Not the kind of look Jean Grey would have given him. Then again, now that he saw her fully, she wasn't exactly like Jean. Close, so close, but not exactly.
A bit of a cough on Scott's part. "Sorry, you remind me of someone. I'm Cyclops, we're here to safety, and away from the Marauders. Do you need help walking?" A gesture at her leg.
"Well, you aren't trying to kill me like those other guys, so.. Alright. Try any funny movies, and I'll give you what for, just like I did that big guy alright?" As she waved her hand, it was the first time Scott realized she had a half foot or so piece of metal tube. If she'd picked that up and used it on Sabertooth at some point tonight, she had guts.
"Well, come on Madelyne. We've got a jet waiting, and we'll get that leg looked at." Slipping her arm over his shoulder, he easily took the bulk of her weight so she could hop along with him. While he could have easily carried her, something told him he didn't want to be so forward. Just because she looked like Jean..? Even as he told himself that, she almost slipped. "It'll be easier if I just carry you, okay?"
"Sure.. My legs pretty messed up.. Didn't realize." She sounded in pain, but she offered a little grin, even though her lips were twinging in pain, as he picked her up and started to carry her back towards the Black Bird. Not even twenty yards from where they started, Betsy fell in next to him, all the world as if him carrying a redhead back to the jet was just how it should be.
"Lovely night, isn't it Cyke? Arclights down for the count, scrambled her better then the cajun scrambles margaritas. The other three are on their way back, Storm says Scalphunter escaped, and Creed managed to get away in the diversion Scalphunter created. They've got a few minor wounds, mostly Logan." Betsy didn't sound surprised, and Scott had to admit he wasn't exactly surprised himself. Logan always got injured, but that went with the healing factor he guessed.
"Alright, The Black Bird is doing auto-prep now. When Storm gets here, it'll be ready. Have her take pilots seat, I'll prep our guest here in the back for medical when we get back to the mansion. Unless any besides me became paramedic qualified since I last checked?" Scott asked it even as the other three came into view of the Bird, as he climbed. No one answered though, so it appeared not. Nor did they appear to catch a glimpse of the woman in his arms before he'd climbed the Blackbird, because no one stopped him or tried to slip into the back while he took care of Madelyne .
Of course, he didn't know Betsy was standing on the other side, keeping Logan and Gambit out.
In the light of the Black Birds limited medical facilities, he could get a good glimpse at Maddie. Her hair was longer then Jean had ever kept hers, and the way she grinned, he had to bet her grin tended to be a bit crooked with mischief. He also saw that her leg was hurt worse then he'd initially thought.
"Ouch, that can't be good. Well, I can't give you anything to kill the pain. The Professor will do that when we're back at the Mansion, but a bit of washing with aniseptic is going to hurt, but this is the kind Doctor Grey always insisted we use, which contains small traces of local anesthetic, or as she called 'soothant', since we didn't complain as much when it didn't hurt as much." Scott offered her a grin, then offered her his other hand.
"Doctor Grey sounds like a smart Doctor. And what are you, Cyclops? A Paramedic? Or a Pilot?"
"If you want to squeeze this while I spray your leg? This is going to hurt, it looks like Creed got you pretty good... Me? I'm a few things. Mostly a Teacher, but I've been flying since I got my license at 19. My dad was a test pilot in the Air Force, so I always thought I should know how to fly. What about you?"
Most people would be amazed Scott had mentioned his father, it wasn't something he often did, but the way Maddie grabbed his hand and squeezed, and was watching him, well. He felt his guard down. He knew it wasn't Jean, but.. for the first time since Jean died at Alkali lake, he didn't feel empty or incomplete.
"Ohsonofabitch! That hurts!" Scott couldn't conceal a wince as the antiseptic bubbled over her wounded leg, a sign that she very likely might have infection problems if they didn't manage to thoroughly clean her wounds. Not to mention, it had to be painful. "Ahh. Crap. Can we wait to finish after we're somewhere I get pain killers? That hurts a lot.."
Scott nodded, and applied some pure water to wash the remainders of the antiseptic away. They'd finish at the medbay at School.
"I'm a Pilot. I do charter flights between Anchorage and Northern Alaska. Or, well, I used to. Before the company I worked for decided profits were getting thin, and they axed me. I've been in Ohio for a few weeks, trying to get a job there. I figured Cleveland always looked like a good place to live on the Drew Carry Show, so.." A slightly ashamed shrug of her shoulders. No adult liked admitting they were between jobs at any time, and Scott rather figured Maddie had a pretty strong independent streak.
"Drew Carry show, huh? It was one of my favorites too, but I couldn't stand Who's Line.." Scott shook his head, and was amazed to see her nodding in agreement, also coupled with the realization they were slowing down, as Storm's voice warned over the intercom.
"We're coming in for a landing in about thirty seconds, Scott. Hope you have our passenger buckled in."
Scott was expecting there to be some issues when he moved Maddie to the medical bay. He wasn't disappointed with the reaction when he stepped past the door carrying Maddie, and heard everyone but Betsy gasp.
Logan's reaction was the most interesting, Scott found. He seemed to be ready to jump forward, to do what he wasn't sure, until Scott saw Logan's nose twitch.
"Different scent. Not her." He said it quietly, yet loudly enough for them all to hear though. Well, if Logan said it wasn't Jean, Scott was going to accept that. Best of all, was the fact Logan seemed uninterested in her as soon as he realized it wasn't Jean. Why that should make Scott happy, well, he didn't know, but it did. Then it was just a matter of carrying her past everyone, and down to the medbay to be seen by the Professor.
Somewhere along the way, he realized Maddie had fallen asleep in his arms, when he got to the medbay however, Charles was waiting with a half smile on his lips. "I thought it best our patient would sleep through this. Her wounds need cleaning, and anisthetic would take time to kick in."
Scott just nodded, as if he should have expected her falling asleep had been Charles's work, and set in to help Charles care for the young redhead.
The X-men were expecting chaos when they walked into the Cafeteria. They'd taken off in the jet, after all, and left an untested new member of the faculty in charge of the students. Doubtlessly, Charles had left Pete Wisdom on his own, to sink or swim.
Therefore, when they strolled into the cafeteria to get something to eat, they were in for a surprise.
All of the students were seated like they normally were, but it was much quiter then normal. The students, rather then shouting, yelling, and generally clamoring, were whispering and talking in quiet voices only at their own table. If they needed to talk to someone at another table, they got up and moved quietly to another table to whisper for a few moments, before going back to their original table.
In short, it was the strangest sight Storm, Gambit, or Logan had ever seen at the mansion. The cause for the goings on was readily apparent though, once they looked around the room.
Peter Wisdom was sitting at the faculty table alone, rolling an unlit cigarette longingly between his fingertips, staring at it in a way they all accused Storm of fawning after Gambit. There was, also, they had to note, a massive charred hole through the end faculty table, and ashes and burn marks on the tiles underneath that table and the hole.
Wisdom saw them looking at him, offered them that grin that made the students go deathly quiet, and all of their own spines shiver, before he stood up and stalked out of the room, his cigarette lit even as he hit the hall, clearly heading for a smoking environment.
"Well I'll be damned." Logan grunted.
"Ain' never gonna hear de end of dis, ya realize? We can't let him realize dat dey don't behave dis well for us, or he gonna give us all hell."
Betsy, however, just looked at them all and laughed. "Oh, please. They can't usually be that bad, besides, it's clear Wisdom threatened them with bodily harm. That's hardly anything to envy, boys." With a sniff at Logan and Remy, Betsy turned and departed.
Already, the students voices were rising, and disorder was starting to spread.
"Well, since we're never going to hear the end of it, let's claim those two last cheesecakes before we have to start assigning detention?"
"I'll get the beer, 'Ro. Cajun, you get the ice cream. We should probably send a piece down to Kurt in the infirmary, but..." Logan wasn't the only one who laughed. There were, after all, only two cheesecakes left.
"Snooze ya looze, be what I always say homme."
Wisdom it appeared, indeed did head straight for an air where he could smoke. Which was rather what she expected, as Betsy followed after him a minute or two later. Tracking Pete Wisdom through the school could be done one of two ways. Usually by the thoughts of the students, or just letting your 'mental gaze' sprawl across an area, unfocus, and after a minute or two you'd start to feel the despair that wafted off the man and be able to zone in on him that way.
Not that he exuded such a feeling when you were paying attention to him. He kept himself to tightly bound for people to get a sense of it, especially the feelings he didn't want others to know about. Yet, it wasn't like the man had true mental shields, he wasn't a psionic after all. His anti-psychic measures were all routine, exercises and thought-tricks he'd learned to keep a psi out of his head. Betsy had to admit, he'd done a remarkable job learning them. There were few men she'd met who had as strong defenses as he did, and who weren't in some way psionically empowered themselves.
True to form, Pete was just out the back exit of the mansion, sucking on one of his Silk Cuts as if the fate of the universe depended on him getting as much nicotine into his bloodstream as possible, in the shortest amount of time.
"Impressive, Peter. You had to have almost run down here to already have that one down to the butt already. There all up there marveling over your handy work in quieting the children, you know, desperately trying to figure out how you managed it."
Wisdom smirked his little self-satisfied smirk, before his powers flared incinerating his first cigarette butt, and lighting his next fag for him.
"Oh, I pointed out the collateral damage, and pointed out it was obvious you threatened them with grievous bodily harm. They believed me, of course. How'd you really do it, Pete?"
Annoyingly, he didn't seem surprised that Betsy had figured it out, seemingly. He just nodded his head, and gave her a bit of an appraising glance.
"Well petal, kids be the easiest people ter deal with if yer know wot yer doing. Lay out a little bitta yarn bout me time wot with MI-6 an all, a few tales of death defyin heroism, an a demonstration of me powers on the table got quite a few of em in the palm of me hands. The reste, shite, I just bribed with the offer of pizza next time yer all gone, when yer all landed."
Wisdom looked unapologetic at bribing students, or at the fact he'd been misleading them. In fact, Betsy had to admit she had to admire the style he used. When she'd first met him, like the others, she'd have readily believed he'd just threatened the kids with violence. She had to admit, Pete Wisdom was intriguing in his own entirely unpleasant way, and that the heavy undertone of despair around him made her somewhat curious.
Of course, he had to ruin moments like this by leering at her, and not just a little. He even blew her a kiss. "Wot, yer gonna show it off luv, I'mma look."
He said to her departing back. Half way back to her room, she began to realize.. every time she started to think Pete Wisdom might not be a completely terrible person, he did something like that to change her mind.
But how would he know that I was... of course. Facial expressions, body posture. He's reading people's emotions that way. That's why him and Logan can talk, they both express clear dislike for each other when they talk, even if it's that weird male bonding..
Pete Wisdom was becoming more and more a man she wanted to know about. However, she wanted a shower, maybe a bubble bath, more then she wanted to know about anything right now.
He wasn't surprised, when sometime later the cajun dropped down from the roof onto the back balcony.
"Ya know, it somehow don't surprise me dat ya still awake. Most of de rest of de house asleep. Cept ya ain't still awake, are ya? Wake up and come down for a smoke?"
Wisdom shrugged. "Wanted a fag, an needed ter see the way this place looks in the dark hours. More important than in the daylight, an all. Wot gave away that I innit been down 'ere the whole time, fact I'm not wearing a shirt?" Sarcasm heavy in his voice.
Remy just laughed, as if he'd made a joke. "Well, dat was kinda one of de giveaways. Whatcha think of de place so far, mon ami?"
Wisdom gave him a considering look, watching those burning devils eyes that glowed in the dark. "Eh. Innit quite wot I was expecting. Was figuring yer place 'ere be a bit more like Hogwarts, less like one of them bleeding gossip-drama-soap-opera shite they show fer teenagers."
The cajun seemed to find that especially funny. "Just wait till ya catch dem on de first day after a break. De ones dat go home, dey come back havin figured out a new trick with the powers, and they all wanna show dem off to everyone. An course, ones dat stayed here, they learned new tricks too... Days like dat, it feel like Hogwarts."
"Yeah, if ya say so LeBeau. Still, kinda surprised by the kids a bit."
"Yeah? How's that?"
"Well fer one thing, LeBeau, they innit as big of idiots as I figured they'd be, being yanks and all. Their only half of 'em idiots. But I expect with them having you fer a teacher this year, you'll have it reduced to just a quarter of em with any brains left. They'll all be talking bout 'dis and dat' and drinking moonshine straight from the still."
Pete emphasized this by pulling his flask from his pocket, and downing a hearty swallow.
"Think ya confusing me with de bunch from Kentucky, mon ami, but I forgive ya. You Brits ain't learned all de regional American stereo types yet, just de broad generalities. Few months, I call ya to task for a mistake like dat though."
Wisdom's look said if he was still here in a few months, he'd shoot himself. At least, that's what Pete thought his look said. Remy let the subject drop.
"So what up wit' you an Betsy, mon ami? She was throwin off some bad vibes after ya lil discussion earlier."
"Wot's there to say, mate? Daft bint keeps trying ter talk to me like I'm going to be her sodding friend or something like. Innit going to happen, as if I'm going ter trust her wot with her being a telepath an all that shite." Wisdom made a gesture with his cigarette, but even he wasn't sure what the gesture was meant to be, besides rude.
"Well Pete, ya know ya don't have dese issues wit' Xavier, an he a telepath."
"He ain't part of the Nobility either, mate. Yer got yer dislikes, I got mine. Leave it at that, will ya?"
Gambit eyed him as if considering saying more, but just shrugged and started climbing the wall again. No doubt back to whatever window he'd crawled out of to begin with.
"Ya a weird guy, Pete. Most guys, they give quite a bit t'be friends wit' Betsy, an you're playing games with her."
"Shit LeBeau, what part of 'Don't wanna talk about it' dont yer bleeding get? Sod off." This time, not giving LeBeau time to get more words in, Pete was the one to walk inside. He wasn't the only one who had a hard time sleeping that night.
If they'd known elsewhere, Sinister was laughing, none of them would have been sleeping...
Author's Note: I expect no one was expecting Madelyne Pryor to show up. As far what I intend to do with her, well you'll just have to wait and see. I will however admit that she's the closest thing to Jean you'll see in this fic, outside of Flashbacks.