Chapter 2:
"Sir, sorry to disturb your nap. We are approaching what seems to be Earth, but I am still not receiving any transmissions from the Justice League," L.A.R.A said.
"L.A.R.A are you sure you don't have a circuit fried somewhere," Clark said groggily as he moved to the window, "the Watchtower is always right…." He looked out the window at the satellite congested and glaringly and definitely watchtower free space around the blue planet. "….there…." he said as his mouth popped open in disbelief.
"Hit the reverse thrusters. Slow us down. Something is definitely wrong," he told L.A.R.A. "What could have possibly happened out there during the anomaly?" Clark paused for a moment, racking his brain of all the situations he might find himself in when he reached Earth, the most likely of which was an alternate timeline, and decided the best course of action.
"L.A.R.A. land us on the far side of the moon. We are going to play this out cautiously," Clark said. If I've learned anything from Bruce, it's not to go barreling into an unknown situation, Clark thought, not that I'd ever admit it to him. "Establish a secure line with my comm-link, and do your best to hide the ship otherwise."
"Understood, sir," L.A.R.A. replied. "And good luck, sir."
"I'm Superman, luck won't be necessary," Clark said as he exited the ship and stepped onto the rocky lunar surface. Well at least this hasn't changed from what I remember, Clark thought as he looked around, thinking back to the last time he was on the moon. The Rodians had tried to invade Earth by establishing a hidden colony on the far side of the moon. Their mission was unsuccessful. Apparently there was still a few corners of the galaxy who hadn't heard about Earth's protectors.
Clark glided away from the moon and maneuvered toward the south pole of the planet. In every version of Earth he had ever visited that was always the least monitored and the location of his fortress of solitude. Mostly because nobody likes being that cold all the time, he thought. As Clark made his way toward Earth, he sincerely hoped that Bruce existed in this timeline because he was probably one of the few people on Earth who would be able to help him get back.
*Upstate New York*
Charles Xavier rode the elevator down to the bowels of the sub-basement levels of his mansion where Cerebro was located, as he had done many many times before today. He was prompted to search out a new mutant who was causing a panic in an all-American suburb. It was not such a unique story that it would reach the ten o'clock news on the TV's of posh New Yorkers, but Charles was always monitoring the news stations around the country for those youngsters who go from normal to at risk overnight. You would think that people would be used to all the strange possibilities that can happen in this world, with all the 'superheroes' popping up in New York City, Charles thought, but change is always easier to accept when it's not so close to home.
He donned the silver helmet that interfaced his mind with Cerebro's system and let the power expand outward, carefully pushing beyond the familiar but easily surmounted barrier of self-preservation. Encounters with other powerful telepaths had taught Charles the deep and cutting lesson of caution. The information of billions of living minds flowed through Charles, into Cerebro's processor and was displayed as a familiar map of the world covered in twinkling red and white lights.
The initial connection to the world was always Charles' favorite part of using Cerebro. A planet teeming with the fervor of existence, the demanding needs and wants that make up a life, the highs and lows that can make anything worth something, and more often than not the blissful ignorance of how fragile all of it is. With a deep breath, Charles began to hone in on the Dallas suburbs to search for the errant young mutant in hopes of helping him or her through the change, when all of a sudden a strange amber light appeared on the far bottom reaches of the map near the South Pole. A lone man was unbelievably taking a casual stroll through an Antarctic blizzard.
"What are you?" Charles whispered to himself, now thoroughly distracted from his original task. With a fraction of a thought, the map wheeled downward over Antarctica and zoomed in on the new and strange being. Charles saw a tall and robust man with jet black hair slicked back over his head except for one curl residing on his forehead. His outfit betrayed no discernable information; a great 'S' emblazoned over his chest and cape billowing out behind him in the Antarctic winds. His red boots crunched in the snow as he walked, deep in thought.
Charles pressed slightly with his power to gain some insight into this man's mind. Instantly he felt a resistance, which he had only felt with other telepaths. With other mutants he'd met, it was like a callus built up over time from the constant rubbing of other minds. But with this man it was more like swimming through pudding, feasible but uncomfortable. Charles pushed a little more and caught a piece of a thought about a 'fortress' and a 'league' of some kind.
Charles realized later that he must have concentrated too hard on the stranger, because the man suddenly looked up with a fury on his face to rival that of Logan's, and growled, "You are not welcome in here!" With a resounding crash that resonated through Charles' brain, the man brought down a barrier that snapped the connection. Charles' power recoiled back to him like a rubber band and a silent whip crack pierced his brain, leaving him with quite the stinging headache. He groaned as he removed the Cerebro helmet, and proceeded to wheel himself out of the chamber towards the medical bay where he knew Jean Grey would be working.
The door to the medical bay opened as Charles approached. Inside he found Jean Grey tending a young man who had been injured during PE class. Injuries were not an uncommon thing in Xavier's school. Physical education class was not just about exercising the body but also about learning to control and use one's powers for those students with the less dangerous abilities. But still accidents happened.
"Your scan doesn't show any fractures so just put some ice on it each night before going to bed. Try not to move it too much and it should heal up in about a week or so," Jean told the boy.
"Thank you, Dr. Grey," the boy said as he left.
Jean turned to Charles with a small smile. "Hello Professor," she said.
"Hello Jean," he replied, "How are you today?"
"I'm doing well, thank you. Is there something I can help you with sir?" she asked.
"Yes, I need a little something for this headache I have," he said as he pinched his eyebrows together.
A concerned look came over Jean's face as she asked, "Physical or power related?"
"Powers," he replied.
Jean turned her body to look behind her at the row of floor to ceiling, see-through medicine cabinets lining the wall. The second to last door opened and two bottles of pills floated to her. As she took one in each hand, she said, "So, speaking from experience, aspirin is pretty much the only thing that is going to help. I have strong and really strong. Neither will take eliminate it completely." She offered the bottles to Charles.
"Let's go with really strong," he said, taking the smaller bottle from her hand. Jean moved to the sink and filled a small paper cup with water from the tap. As she handed him the cup, she tried to remember the last time she'd seen the professor have an issue with his powers and could only think of the few encounters with other powerful telepaths.
"Is everything ok, Professor?" she asked as he tossed the pills back.
"Yes, Jean, everything is fine. Thank you for the medicine," he replied with a small smile. Charles wheeled himself out of the infirmary and up to the kitchen with the intention of nourishing himself before entering Cerebro again to find the mysterious stranger.