August 19, 1992

"We should be there in about five minutes," Jean said.

Scott nodded and looked over his shoulder.

"Are their communications still out?" he asked.

"All I'm getting is static," Ororo said.

He rubbed his temples and looked at the back of the plane. He hadn't felt good about bringing Kurt, Amanda, David, and Sharon along. Having the Brotherhood with them was bad enough, but they were all inexperienced.

David and Kurt had been through the training, true enough. That had been years ago though, and Kurt had become a pacifist since then. David had been banned from joining, and the reason for that ban still stood. They had no idea how much influence those voices had in his head when it came towards distracting him or hampering his cognitive abilities.

Sharon hadn't been through the training. She had done well enough in the square, but not well enough for him to suddenly accept her into the X-men. Amanda was, point blank, a terrible idea. She had no combat training, and she didn't even have a mutation that would help her.

Scott couldn't just leave them though. He'd considered making a detour to Washington so Hank could take care of them, even with time against them. Whatever damage could have been done to the Institute had most likely already taken place.

As he'd been thinking about it David had sat up straighter. Scott had paused, wondering if David was reading his mind, or if his face just had a particularly bad give. He'd always been terrible at poker, something Alex had always taken advantage of.

David had met his eyes and slowly shook his head. There was something dangerous there, something that Scott didn't want to examine. He'd turned back to the console, wondering just what was going on in the younger Xavier's head.

Two seats down Mystique was staring straight ahead, her expression neutral. Scott wondered about what David had said earlier. He had, just like the rest of his team, figured out who Kurt's parents were. It was obvious from the first moment that Charles and Moira had showed them the child that they planned to adopt.

He had waited for Alex to say something. His brother had stared at Kurt for a few minutes, a small nerve in his forehead twitching. Finally he'd said:

"He looks like he'll be a handful."

It was, perhaps, the only thing that he could say without addressing the obvious. Moira had fixed him with a steely glare.

"We'll manage," she'd said.

"I can't imagine him being any more difficult than David," Charles had added.

His voice had carried a warning in it, although it was a subtle one. Scott knew then that he was never allowed to discuss who Kurt's real parents were. It was a taboo subject, something that the X-men had ignored as Kurt grew older and began to teleport.

There had been problems, and Scott was well aware of them. He'd heard from his brother about Kurt disappearing for an hour when he heard he was adopted. He'd come back, David clasping his hand. they had never spoken of it ever again.

It appeared that they might have to speak about it again though. Kurt was eighteen now, and his biological mother was sitting only a few feet away from him. That was going to have consequences of some sort, no matter what David wanted.

"We're coming into range," Ororo said.

"Perfect," Scott said, "Marvel, land in the secondary landing zone. I have a feeling that the primary one might not be the best idea."

She nodded and began to take the plane down.


Angel felt drowsy. The cabin was peaceful, and all the harsh sounds of war had faded away. She took it as a good sign, a sign that things might be getting better out there. She wasn't sure just how much of that she believed: Max and Lorna still hadn't come back yet.

Piotr got up.

"I will go get Bobby and John," he said, "They will take next shift."

"Sounds good," Angel said.

She stretched. Her eyes caught a glimmer of something in the distance.

"Piotr," she said, her voice quiet, "I want you to act naturally. Go back into the house, get anyone who can fight, and tell them that we have a possible hostile out here. Try to get the kids out quietly through the back, and the rest of you come up here."

She saw Piotr's brow furrow. She stretched again, cocking her head to the side.

"Now Piotr," she whispered.

He moved away from her and went inside. Angel yawned and leaned against one of the porch's columns. She had to act calm, even though her heart sounded like a construction site. Whoever was out there, she couldn't let them know that she'd seen them.

The glimmer moved. It was definitely hostile. If they'd been friendly they would have declared themselves by now. Angel glanced impatiently at the door. She didn't have to pretend to be impatient this time. What was taking Piotr so long?

She heard a twig snap and her heart's hammerings became louder. They weren't trying to be stealthy. That meant that they didn't care if someone heard them. They had that much firepower at their disposal.

Angel's eyes widened. There was only one recourse for that. It was time to play the dumb bimbo. She'd been good at playing it in the past. Angel put on her best frightened face and leaned forward, her mouth open.

"Is someone there?" she asked, her voice reedy.

There was no answer. She hadn't expected there to be. She put her hand on one of the porch's columns. Where was Piotr? She was going to have to be the distraction now, have to draw the fire. Angel hoped that she could survive the first round.

Something whizzed past her ear. Angel fell to the floor, feeling blood coming from the side of her head. At first she thought that she'd been shot at. It hadn't made a noise, but she expected they would have silencers.

She'd been shot before though, and whatever that had been had been much bigger than a bullet. She glanced behind her and saw what looked like a thin, sharp metal knife quivering in the doorframe.

Piotr burst through the door, his skin gleaming. It looked as though it had been plated with metal. Behind him Angel recognized Bobby and John. One of the knives bounced harmlessly off of his skin.

"We will handle this," he said.

Angel rolled her eyes, keeping low to the ground. She hadn't been a particularly strong fighter, but she had been in more combative situations than any of the children next to her combined. Luna was in that house, and she needed time to escape.

"I think you'll need my help," Angel said.

She pushed herself up and peered into the woods.

"I think that there's only one of them out there," she said.

Angel picked up the metal knife that had fallen onto the floor. She almost cut her finger on it. There were no handle, just sharp edges. It couldn't be easy to throw these things. Where could you safely grip it?

She turned it over in her hand as the boys began looking around the woods. Angel dropped it and let it clatter to the floor.

"I think we're looking at a mutant," she said, "It's possible that he can create those things. They're too...delicate to be a close range weapon."

Bobby and John gave her an odd look. She rolled her eyes.

"Look, you can listen to me or we can all die," she said, "I'm endorsing the first option."

Bobby put his hands out in a placating gesture, just as another wave of the metal objects were tossed at them. Angel grabbed his foot and yanked him to the ground. Several sailed over his head. John got down and Piotr stood, letting the different objects bounce off him.

"Get down!" Angel said.

Piotr looked at her like she was crazy.

"It does not matter for me," he said.

"You're goading him!" Angel said.

Piotr continued to look at her with confusion. Angel began to move over towards him, keeping her head close to the ground. She remembered a few missions where soldiers had stood in the middle of a hall, confident in their ability to win the battle. What had made them so cocky? They hadn't had any metal on them.

Of course, every member of the Brotherhood carried some sort of metal for that express purpose. The soldiers that had stood there had been the first to fall, Magneto in turns amused and angered by their arrogance. When he was younger he would just draw them into one-on-one combat, taking them down that way. It was a violent, messy death when that happened.

Piotr finally got down, still looking confused. Angel put her hand on her forehead. The last thing they needed was another person standing there, thinking himself immune. He was too young and stupid to understand, and that made him too young and stupid to die.

"We need an attack plan," Angel said.

She waited as the boys blinked at her. She wanted to scream. Angel wasn't a tactician. She wasn't even a good assassin. They'd often said that she was too sentimental. It was why she'd been assigned to look over Lorna in the first place.

Now all those duties were falling to her. Angel looked nervously at the house.

"Who do you have evacuating the kids?" she asked.

"Kitty," Piotr said, "She walks through walls."

"Good," Angel said.

She swallowed.

"John, what can you do?" Angel asked.

"Fire," he smirked.

She nodded.

"Right then. Bobby, give us an ice shield," she said, "This guy likes ranged combat, so we're going to get up close. John, when I give the signal put the heat on the inside of it so it splatters out. Piotr, you're the first one to hit him."

She swallowed again.

"I guess I'm your back-up," Angel said.

She breathed in deeply and thought about the little girl in the house behind her. Maybe Kitty had already taken her out. Maybe she hadn't. Angel couldn't afford to take that chance. She had never gambled with Lorna's life, and she was certainly not going to gamble with Luna's.

"Everyone ready?" she asked.

"No," Bobby said.

"Well you're going to have to do it anyway," Angel said.

She got into a crouching position and jerked her head for Bobby to move up with her. He bit his lip and did so, his hands already forming frost.

"Three...two...one!" she said.

Bobby threw himself in front of the porch and threw his hands out. Frost blossomed out in front of them, thick and heavy. She saw a few of the metal pieces bounce off it. They were causing dents though, and she worried how much they would be able to advance.

Piotr stood next to her as they moved towards the shield. Angel could see that the cracks were increasing.

"John," she said.

John took out a lighter. He flicked it open and a fireball formed in his hand. He shot it towards the center of Bobby's ice shield, and the cracks grew bigger.

"I'll be right next to you Piotr," Angel said.

Piotr ran forward just as the ice shattered outwards. Angel hurried to keep up with him. He tackled a figure on the other side of it, pushing him to the ground. A second later a fist hit his metal skin, sending him back several feet and into a tree.

It had only taken seconds. She looked at the figure in front of her as it slowly got up, its limbs stretching out towards the sky. A fallen angel, crashing towards hell, ready to take someone down with them.