Chapter 14 - Not All There
The kids had been gone entirely too long for Scott's comfort, but the truth was that he was where he was supposed to be. Especially with Tony still recovering from his heart attack, someone needed to be streamlining intel as everyone kept chasing down leads. Wade had checked in a few times, confirming what Scott already knew: that the higher-ups wanted James as essentially a replacement of his father, the way they'd tried to make Tyler a second Sabretooth. He didn't have coordinates, but he did have more details about the plan. Which Scott had to hope hadn't been enacted yet.
They had plans for each of the captives, too. The higher-ups didn't know all of the down and dirty details, but the fact that they had Nate and Rachel and Billy there… they were sure if they could get even one of those three on their side that the rest could be forced into servitude.
And that… that wasn't sitting well with Scott.
He had the beginnings of a plan forming in the back of his mind, but right about then, his phone rang, and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he answered it. "Heather?"
"Alright, it took some time, but I might have a few leads for you," Heather said in lieu of even her normally warm greeting. "I called in every favor I had, so it had better pan out for you."
"I'll make it count, I swear," Scott said. "We still haven't found them."
"That doesn't surprise me, even if it makes me madder. But what I found isn't entirely definitive, so … alright. The science division has been stockpiling rare metals. Smaller amounts of vibranium, adamantium, and carbonadium. Nothing big enough to raise alarms with anyone, and not anything that would fall outside of research parameters," Heather said, all business. "The old facilities were never rebuilt. Not … anywhere close to what they were before they were ah … dismantled. In the best way possible."
"Yeah, I'm sure I know a few people who helped that along," Scott said. He was nodding to himself. "Okay, rare metals… go on."
"Right… so, the amounts aren't exact on those figures, but no one I could get in touch with that's connected could give me any volumes that sounded alarming - especially since it looks like a lot of this research is dedicated to how thin these metals can be and still be usable for their original purpose. I'm going to forward that to you if you want it - maybe your connections can use it more than what I can decipher."
"Yes, thanks. This actually sounds right up Reed Richards' alley, and the Four have been trying to help as well."
Heather's tone once again sounded bright - but far more forced than Scott had heard from her. "Oh, thats … promising? That is promising, right?"
"We'll see. Pretty sure Sue Storm has personally declared war on whoever grabbed Bobby, honestly."
"Good. He's a sweetheart. And that means you're not shutting people out from helping. So .. Scott, I'm not going to ask, either: I want in. Give me some locations. I can go in with my flight suit. It's not as flashy as Stark's armor, but … it does the job," Heather said. "Mac too. We want to help. Or … just me if you don't want Mac involved. I get it."
Scott nodded slowly. "I… have a plan. But I need to get some other people involved. I'll text you once I've got some coordinates, but… I can track down that metal."
"I'll even be a distraction if it helps," Heather said. "Whatever you need."
Scott stopped and let his shoulders drop. "I appreciate it. More than you know."
"Okay, good. But I'm serious. Just tell me when and where. Might figure in travel for me, though, huh? Suit would take me a couple hours to get there - so don't tell me if you're already in trouble. Give me lead time."
"Got it. I'll know more once I talk to Lorna. She can track down the metal you were talking about. I may ask you to help and have Mac run a distraction. If you're working leads, they might be watching you both."
"Alright. That's perfect. I'll keep trying to dig up old contacts, too."
"Great. Stay close to your phone. I don't know how long it will take Lorna to narrow it down, but once she does, we're going to need someone who can fly to get people out."
"That, I can do."
"Thanks again," Scott said. "I know you pulled in a lot of favors, but that… that confirmation… we'll find them."
"Hey. I already feel like I've been slacking all these years. I'll be there as soon as you say."
Alex had seen Nate dealing with some Cuckoos on and off for the past several days. He also knew that the kid would disappear from his cell every once in a while and come back panting and hurt, massaging his head. They were trying to break in; that much was obvious. And Alex knew he was sitting on information that had the potential to break Nate. Which was why he'd kept his damn mouth shut.
The thing was - he knew Nate was too much like Scott. He'd seen the way the kid had stopped sleeping, had gone into shock and gotten quiet about it after Apocalypse. And he had just barely started to pull himself together when this happened. The minute he found out Kate was gone, he was going to spiral just as hard as Scott had spiraled.
God, Alex was scared to see that happen to his nephew. To see the cycle continue.
And he hadn't even started to process his own loss. He'd thought he'd lost his brother so many times in his life, and every time, he'd been close. He'd been right there. He'd have been willing to help if he'd been able. The plane, the plot in Genosha - all of it. He kept saying goodbye, and he was sick of it.
But he couldn't mourn his brother, really, because then Nate would know.
At the moment, though, Nate was gone - and Alex was honestly taking the chance to wallow in the misery of it all. To swear loudly and to kick at the bars of his cell and to wince every time he did it, because his arm was still broken and wasn't even in a sling, though he was trying hard not to move it.
But when he heard the loud scrape of the door at the end of the hall, he ran his hand down his face and sat on the far end of his cell, practically holding his breath for how much he was trying to calm his breathing and make it look like he wasn't trying to process the loss of one of the most important people in his life.
Nate looked exhausted - again - by the time he sat down in his cell, and Alex made a noise of sympathy when he saw him. He could do that. He could be the supportive uncle. Not like they'd given him literally anything else to do in that place.
(He was pretty sure he was being held back in reserve - as leverage. Knowing he'd been with Lorna's side of the family when he was caught but that he'd seen his side of the family when he'd been unloaded, he had too many connections to powerful people. And not just the kind of power that came from an X-gene. And honestly, he hated the idea.)
"You doing okay?" Alex asked, just to get his mind off himself. "I mean, stupid question, but… you know what I'm asking."
"Yeah, I get it," Nate said in what was more like a grunt than words. "I'm fine."
"That bad, huh?"
"Why do you set yourself up with the same joke every time?" Nate asked, and though Alex could hear exhaustion in his voice, there was also just enough of a touch of amusement that Alex knew he was still, even in a small way, managing to cheer him up.
"Why do you go with the Standard Summers response instead of spicing things up?" Alex shot back. He paused, and when Nate didn't pick up on the teasing, he got closer to the bars so he could see how his nephew was doing now that the guards were gone.
The most obvious concern was the fact that the skin underneath Nate's nose was red - probably from having to stretch his defenses when he didn't have access to his full powers to fight back against the Cuckoos. But the thing that caught Alex's attention - the thing he saw when Nate looked his way when Alex audibly winced as he moved his arm - was the look on Nate's face.
Resignation.
"Woah, hey, no, whatever's got you looking like that, I need you to stop thinking it," Alex said, though he could feel the bottom dropping out of his stomach.
They told him, he kept thinking, panicked, wondering how much they'd told him and what they'd told him and-
"Told me what?"
What bottom was left in Alex's stomach dropped the rest of the way down into his feet, and he felt blood drain from his face as he realized that Nate's collar light wasn't on.
Oh god. He clamped down hard on his mental defenses, but he knew in that moment of realization, he had to have been projecting more than he meant to. And judging by the look on Nate's face - his mouth partway open, the remaining color gone - this was exactly what the department had hoped would happen.
"I was waiting to tell you," Alex blurted out. "I saw - I saw it happen, and I didn't want them to use that against you. I know every little bit helps in a psychic battle and-"
"Uncle Alex," Nate said, his tone somehow both firm and far away. "Slow down."
"Right, yeah, sorry." Alex ran his only usable hand through his hair. "I… have been sitting on this since we got here, but you need every inch of your mental defenses, so I didn't know how to tell you."
"I think you need to tell me, at this point," Nate said, though he looked exactly like Scott in the way he was bracing himself, almost holding his breath, like he knew what was coming. "All I heard was you panicking that I'll turn into my dad."
"You're most of the way there already, aren't you?" Alex asked with a weak smile that Nate met with a dry look he'd clearly learned from his dad. "Right." He took a deep breath and let it out again. "I saw you getting unloaded," he said haltingly. "You and Rachel. And… I saw who you were with when you got caught."
Nate nodded, barely breathing.
"And…" Alex trailed off, took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out again. "God, I'm sorry, Nate. They said they didn't have any reason to keep her or your dad alive."
For a long time, Nate simply stared at Alex. And then, when he did try to speak, Alex hated how desperate he sounded. "But you don't know for sure if…"
Alex shook his head. "I got hit with some kind of drug before I saw, but they were - yeah, I'm pretty sure they're gone, Nate," he said. He could feel his own emotional shock setting in as he tried to hold it together, but he doubted he was doing that well. "I was going to tell you once we got out. I'm sorry. I didn't want them to use it against you."
Nate nodded wordlessly, even as Alex watched, holding his own breath as he watched his nephew process a loss this big. And for as much as he could see signs of Scott in the way Nate had gone silent and was staring at the floor instead of at Alex, when Nate did finally look up at him… it was like all he could see was the exact expression Jean had worn in the moments she would let the Phoenix drive. All rage and danger.
Alex wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but he couldn't fault the kid, so he simply sat there, in silence, knowing he'd just been used to hurt his own family.
Tommy had lost track of time, but he was pretty sure he'd been in the vents for several days. At least. Maybe even longer than that. He'd been trying to figure out where everyone was, but he couldn't get into any cells through the vents, and he hadn't been able to find a key or code or anything.
He'd spent what he thought was two days staking out the room where Billy and Rachel were kept, but he was actually starting to lose track of even that much. It was hard to tell time when he was cramped and everything smelled weird, but… his arm was turning funny colors, and he was sweaty and exhausted. And he'd started shivering pretty badly.
The first few days, he'd been able to sneak out and get something to eat, scrounge stuff the guards didn't keep their eyes on for too long. But now, he was losing even that much. And by that point, he knew he had to do something. He had to try to get Billy out now, or whatever was wrong with his arm was going to get worse.
So, he dragged himself over to where Billy was and waited until it was halfway between shifts. That was the best time, he'd found, because that was usually when the guards got bored, especially if nothing exciting had happened that day.
The guards traded gossip about the captives and traded bets about who would be the first to break - which was encouraging in that no one had broken (yet). But none of what Tommy had overheard thus far was good. At all.
He managed to slip out of the grate undetected and stole close to Billy's tube. He wasn't going to try to play with the controls, either. He was just gonna try smashing the tube open. He had just taken a step back to grab something to smash the tube with when his vision swam, and he misstepped and crashed into something, alerting the guards.
Swearing, Tommy booked it blindly, skidding out the door and swearing some more when he felt dizzy all over again. He was genuinely sick, and he couldn't go as fast as he wanted to even with the collar in play.
He skidded around another corner and nearly collided with someone big. And he had just enough time to glance up and see Tyler before Tyler grinned, showing all his teeth, and grabbed Tommy, pinning his arms to his sides.
Tommy screamed as soon as Tyler touched his arms, but even while he was panting and his vision was swimming, he managed to say, "Oh, hi. This feels familiar."
Tyler was not acting anything like the Tyler Tommy knew. He was malicious and mean and seemed to be enjoying himself as he manhandled Tommy, especially when Tommy was clearly in pain every time his arm moved. And Tyler didn't speak. Which was so creepy.
"Look, you've caught me," Tommy said through his teeth as his vision swam. "See? I'm caught. Stop touching my arm; there's something wrong with it."
Tyler smirked wickedly. "Okay." The tone was somewhere between a hiss and a curse, and a moment later, he shifted how he was carrying Tommy - by throwing him to the ground, then following it up by throwing himself forward to land on Tommy's leg with all his weight focused though his palm.
Tommy screamed, and when Tyler started to drag him, he instinctively curled in on himself, absolutely unable to stop himself from crying in pain.
He wasn't able to pay much attention, but when the ground he was being dragged across shifted to tile, he forced himself to look up to confirm that, yes, he was in a lab. He made a half-hearted attempt to get away again, but he absolutely couldn't manage it.
The doctors and orderlies shoved him into a bed, and took little time getting rid of the clothes he was in - and none of them seemed to be reluctant to put pressure on his injuries to get him to stop fighting them as they did their jobs.
After a rough physical inspection, Tommy was left staring after the doctors as they discussed his condition with each other around the corner in a nearly closed office. He didn't catch all of it, but what he heard didn't sound very encouraging. At all.
One of the doctors finally headed his way, and Tommy held his breath. "I screwed up the arm, huh?" he offered, because the doctor was measuring a needle, and all he could think about was all that Billy had been through.
The doctor didn't bother answering, though; instead, he pushed Tommy's arm flat. It only took a few seconds, since Tommy was still collared, before Tommy felt cold and then passed out.
When Tommy woke up, he was glad, at least, that he didn't seem to be anywhere but in the medical wing in a normal-looking stretcher, so he wasn't in some nightmare like James had been. He still couldn't feel his arm, but hey, it was still better than a tube.
He groaned and rolled onto his good side to push himself up and look around, glaring at the scientists around him. "Well, this sucks," he muttered before he did finally check himself over to see what the doctor had done…
And just… stared.
"…what…"
Where his injured, nearly useless arm had been, there was just… nothing. Nothing except a bandage about where his elbow was.
Which was wild, because he could swear he'd felt it when he woke up.
He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually, he heard footsteps, and he snapped his head up to glare at them. "Go away. I'm not in the mood," he bit out, completely unaware of the fact that he had tear tracks on his face - not that it seemed to move the guys that came.
He wasn't able to come up with anything witty to say as they pushed him down the hall. He recognized the path they were taking, too - and wasn't surprised when he wound up back in his original cell. If anything, it made sense. They'd thrown his arm out already; didn't seem like they cared about anything they had to work too hard on. Which sucked. Especially since he was very sure Billy could have fixed it in a blink.
"Don't try to run away, and you won't have to be hobbled." The doctor glared even before he came to a full stop at Tommy's bedside. "Continue your little escape attempts and your backtalk, and we'll take the leg next time."
All of the blood drained out of Tommy's face, because that - that was a step too far. That was nothing his grandfather had ever prepared him for or ever could have prepared him for. Because losing his ability to run, being trapped in a body that couldn't go fast with a mind built for faster-than-blinking activities? That would be torture. For the rest of his life. And Tommy still hadn't even processed losing his arm. Adding this threat on top of everything else… he couldn't come up with a good response.
"You wouldn't," was all he managed to say.
"Are you sure about that?" the man replied. "You'd make a wonderful, pitiful bit of leverage."
Tommy leaned back into the gurney, but the guy stared him down. "Don't… don't take it off, okay?" he said, losing a lot of his bluster.
"Does this mean you intend to cooperate?" he pressed.
Tommy glanced toward the doctor, who was impassive as ever, and swallowed. "Yeah," he said quietly and let his gaze drop.
Tommy had fallen back asleep after the doctor had left him, still sleeping off the last of the sedation for his surgery. But he realized what had woken him as he heard footsteps and watched as five identical blondes marched into James' cell. James still hadn't moved - or if he had, he hadn't moved much. Tommy was pretty sure he hadn't shifted at all, anyhow.
But the girls … tall, blonde, and pretty in a cold, self-centered way … were standing around James and passing around a little bottle. They each took a bump of some kind of drug and then settled into identical, angry glares at James. The whole scene was a bit anticlimactic to watch; he couldn't see telepathic battles.
For James, though - he knew before they came in that the girls would be trying to get into his head, and there were too many things they didn't need to see. After their first visit, James had set to work securing everything that was most vital to keep from nosy telepaths. He knew how to lock down some things over others - and he knew what needed protection more than anything else. He didn't think they'd actually make any progress, though. Not when one of them had walked away bloody the first time.
"Make it easy on everyone," one of the blondes said. "Just let us in. Cooperate. We won't hurt you if you behave."
"Go to hell," James said - his tone soft, weary, and thin.
The girls shared a look, their eyes began to glow, and they pushed all at once to try and force through his defenses. At the first tickling in the far recesses of his defenses, James braced himself and did his best to fight back. And … to start, that was enough. He knew how to defend his mind, even beyond his natural defenses, and he was pretty pleased with how it was going. Physically, he was still hurting everywhere. But when they attacked him in concert, his mind quickly caught up to the levels of pain the rest of him had been in for the last week.
They tried to sweet talk him - one being sweet while the others attacked and bashed at his defenses, trying to get him to comply on his own. But he told them "no" every time. He stood his ground - and he pushed back as much as humanly possible.
The first crack in his defenses was almost unnoticeable, but then, they'd forced his mind back to when he'd woken up with his whole body aching and burning and sore from the adamantium procedure. It was distracting enough that he lost his grip on his defenses. And that was all they needed.
One minute, James was doing an amazing job holding off the Cuckoos. And then, the next minute, the heat they had snorted before the attack had kicked in hard. He didn't have time to adjust before they dove in, shattering the walls that had always been there. It was nothing like when Betsy or his siblings had stepped into his mind, or even when they'd forced their way in. This hit in an entirely different way than how his body hurt, though that white-hot feeling was oh, so close to the procedure. He scrambled to push them back - and did with some success - but they were strong. After a while, he couldn't defend himself at all. He couldn't stop them. He couldn't even slow them down - and they were more than happy to beat him around in his own head long after he couldn't avoid the beating. They came after him hard and kept going harder - even when he tried to reason with them, even when he tried to plead with them to stop.
He wasn't even sure what he'd said out loud and what was solely in his head.
But there was no way to stop what the girls were doing. Not without Nate or Rachel helping him. So, desperate, he screamed for help, using what little grip he had left to reach out to Nate. But he couldn't call out for help and continue to defend himself at the same time. Not against all of them. And that left that last bit of his grip on defense open for attack. And the girls did not miss their shot.
Across the compound, Nate's collar still hadn't been turned back on, because he was so tapped out that all he could manage lately was passive telepathy. Or, at least, that was what he was letting them think.
He wasn't faking the nosebleeds, but he was trying to save something in reserve and to feed into the rage that had been building since the moment Alex told him what had happened. He knew he was going to be exhausted every time the Cuckoos showed up, so he'd been pouring little bits of leftover energy into a psychic bomb he was ready to drop once it got powerful enough.
He'd gone quiet, and he knew he was freaking Alex out, but he needed his focus. He had to make them pay.
So he wasn't expecting, out of nowhere, to be hit by a projection from James. And he certainly wasn't expecting that projection to be nothing but white-hot pain and a scream for help.
Nate's eyes flew open, and he fell out of the lotus position he'd been in. Gasping, already crying from the sheer intensity of everything he'd felt at once, he cast his mind out, reaching for James, searching for something beyond that burst of terror.
Nothing. He couldn't hear anything else from his brother. There was simple, terrifying silence.
And that was worse than the scream, really. That… that told Nate something had gone incredibly wrong. Someone, something was hiding his brother from him - or his brother was gone. And he couldn't … he couldn't handle that if that was the case. Not after losing his wife and his father too.
Bastards, he thought - though he was angry enough that something occurred to him. He captured that scream while it was still echoing in his head and poured all of it, all the terror and pain, into the psychic bomb he'd been making.
When this thing went off, whoever he was able to hit with it would feel exactly what James had felt when he'd reached out to Nate.
"You okay?" Alex asked - because Nate was still half-sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily.
"No." Nate rearranged himself back into his lotus position. But then, because he could hear how worried Alex was, he let his shoulders drop. "I'm holding it together. That's what I'm doing."
"Yeah. Okay."
Nate frowned but didn't drop his focus. He knew his uncle was watching and worrying, but if he didn't focus on making these people pay, if he didn't keep his rage up, he'd fall into despair. And David still needed him. He couldn't give up.
Not yet, anyway.
Tommy watched as the blondes came back to their own minds … three of them were sporting severe nosebleeds, one of them had dropped, and another was on her knees crying and hyperventilating. It took the girls a moment to regroup before one of them that looked steadier than the others made her way over to crouch next to James's head before deciding something. But they didn't speak, so he didn't know what had transpired or what they'd decided before they started for the door and left James and the downed girls exactly where they were.
Tommy stared at the closed door for a long second before he let out a sound from the back of his throat. "Okay, whatever just happened, I'm really sure it was bad," he said - and startled because he had been so focused on what was going on with James that he had genuinely forgotten that Steve was also in the same cell block. In his defense, he had a ton going through his head at the moment.
"What happened?" Steve asked, sounding more stressed than Tommy had heard before. "I can't see what's going on. And he won't answer me."
"He hasn't answered me in days," Tommy said. "Whatever happened… I think it made it worse. He's not even looking my way anymore. Which he used to do when I was checking on him before…" He let out a frustrated sound when he tried to run both hands through his hair and couldn't. He couldn't pace, either.
"You gotta tell me more than that, Tommy," Steve said.
"Right, right, yeah, sorry," Tommy said quickly, forcing his thoughts away from the very empty space where his arm should have been. "So… so, um… I kinda escaped for a hot second, but I was still collared and couldn't find a way out, so I've been, you know… roaming…" He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He hadn't had time to process anything, and he knew Steve had probably heard at least the part of the conversation where he'd agreed to behave to keep his leg intact, and he just… he was trying to keep the conversation to James and not that.
"Tell me everything," Steve said.
"Yeah." Tommy sucked in a breath. "Can you - let's - what about you? What's been going on with you?" He couldn't see Steve in his cell, because Steve was diagonal from him, and his cot was far enough from the bars that he could only see James, not Steve.
"Me?" Steve said with a ghost of a laugh. "They've got me chained up, and they're taking blood. Lots and lots of blood."
"So they've got you on tap," Tommy said.
"Yes," Steve agreed. "That's the long and short of it."
"You stuck that tight?" Tommy asked. "I sort of broke my leg, so I can't move closer to say hi."
"Yeah, I can't even pick up a limb."
Tommy paused for a long time. "That sucks."
"I haven't heard any chains by you two, though."
"Yeah. Umm…." Tommy blew out his breath. "So, like, they wanted to see what I could do and put me in a training room? I guess? And I guess they didn't think I could vibrate vibranium into falling apart, but I can. It's hard work, but I can."
"Wish you were a little closer, then," Steve said.
"Yeah. Broken leg and a collar. Sorry."
"Maybe later," Steve said. "What about our friend?"
"RIght, I was getting there." Tommy took a deep breath. "So, um, I ran away and took a very, very bad turn right into the middle of a bad science experiment."
"What kind of experiment?" Steve asked, sounding more interested and alarmed all at once.
"So, like, did you know how Logan got metal poured into or onto or whatever - how his bones got turned to metal? Because I know now."
There was a pause before Steve positively blew up cursing and shouting his exact opinions on the procedure, what they'd done to Tommy, and what every single person in that building could do to themselves. With his help, of course.
Tommy let Steve shout for a while. If anything, it helped to hear someone get mad on his behalf, because no one else cared. It sounded like Steve was trying to get free, but Tommy couldn't see him from where he was. But from context, it sounded like Steve was mad about Tommy's broken leg and James's bones, but he didn't know the rest of it.
"Okay, so, while you're mad," Tommy said. "Billy and Rachel are in tubes because the department's scared of 'em." He paused to let Steve swear some more. "I spotted a few of the others, but I couldn't find any vents that led directly into the cell blocks. I only got close to James because his cell's close to part of the vent system where the fans were installed. But from what I overheard, no one's agreed to help them except Tyler - but, like, he's being controlled again, and it's freaky."
"Who else can those controls work on?" Steve asked as he put his attention once again on trying to figure out how to pick the locks - if he could reach them.
"Um… probably very limited, but it's possible it could work on, um, me or Angel. Theoretically. We don't bounce back like healers, but we do bounce back, you know?" He paused. "But when I was close to where they've got Angel, all I heard was Cassie asking him if he could still fly if they set his wings." Tommy was starting to relax, even though his report was horrific - because this? This was actually what he had liked doing back before he blew everything up with Mia. He'd done lots of intel gathering for Storm, and he was good at it. This felt normal.
There was quiet for a while before Steve seemed to get back to himself. He had stopped swearing, but his tone was a bit more gentle than it had been before, anyhow. "Who did they capture?"
"Um…" Tommy closed one eye as he went over the last few days mentally. "So, Billy and Rachel for sure. I know they have at least another Summers, but I only heard the last name and couldn't get close to check in with them."
"That'll be Nate or Scott - I was with all of them when we got picked up. Did Kate get out, do you know?"
"I haven't heard anything about Kate," Tommy said. "But they got Cassie and May - May's been having full-on panic attacks. You can hear them well down the hall. Angel's trying to keep her together, sounds like, but that was three days ago, so I don't know if they got separated."
"Great." His tone was flat.
"Tyler's here. He caught me. I don't recommend fighting him without powers."
"I've fought his father. It's not that big of a deal."
"Oh, sure, tell that to my broken leg."
Steve paused, and Tommy could hear him take a big, calming breath. "Tommy, when we get out of here, I'm going to need you to tell me who did that to you - and I don't mean Tyler."
Tommy fell silent and closed his eyes. "I'm really sorry, Cap. I know I shoulda told them where to shove it-"
"You did everything you could," Steve promised. "It's okay. I"ll kick their asses for you."
"Seeing as I only have one working kicker, huh?"
"Something like that, yeah."
Tommy nodded, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling of his cell. "They aren't bluffing, is the problem," he said quietly. "You can't… you can't see it…" He swallowed. "I'm - there's not - I'm not all… here."
"What do you mean?" Steve asked, once again cautious and defensive.
Tommy stared up at the ceiling, holding up the hand he could still use to watch his fingers as he wiggled them in front of his face. "I'm just - I'm just telling you because I don't want you to get blindsided or anything, but like - the whole threat to just take off my leg?" Tommy's voice was shaking. "Would be because I'm already missing an arm."
It took Steve a large amount of self control - stuck in a cell or not - to temper his response. Swearing and shouting was worthless and likely wouldn't make either of them feel better. He couldn't get up or out - yet - and he knew Tommy needed some reassurance. So, Steve took his time in trying to regain his grip on his self control. He took a deep, audible breath, then spoke through his teeth. "I will deal with anyone that touched you."
"I'm okay, Cap," Tommy said quietly, but just hearing Cap get mad on his behalf, he was surprised by how badly he wanted to cry. Just something about someone else knowing, when he was still accepting the truth of it… "It was my fault. I got shot the first day out, and it got infected while I was crawling around-"
"There is no way in hell that was your fault."
"I mean, the net result is I'm in a cell and agreed to listen to the bad guys, so I coulda-"
"Tommy - you won't be working for them. No way in hell."
Tommy let out a tired chuckle. "Okay, Cap. If you say so."
"I do. So just … heal up. I've got your back."
"Yeah, I know you do," Tommy said, because he knew there would be an argument otherwise.
Again, the sound of muttering and discussion started up quietly in the distance - obviously turned their way. The discussion fell quiet, but the footsteps got much louder as one of the white-coated scientists that never came down that hall led the charge, with one of the Cuckoos at his side. She looked concerned and did a quick double take Tommy's way before they opened up James' cell and stepped inside, only half blocking him from view while the doctor looked him over.
When he stepped out of the cell, he held the door open for the guards to go in and pull James out, with the Cuckoo standing back with her arms wrapped around her sobbing sister as she watched everything happen.
The scientist looked irritated as he looked across the hall to Tommy. "That one is probably due for some painkillers. Stay here until the orderly brings them."
The blondes stepped out of James' cell, watching the scientist and the men as they took James away, then one turned her attention to Tommy with a pouty frown. "You've decided to take the smart route."
"The route where I keep my remaining limbs, yeah," Tommy pointed out. "So, you gonna tell me what you did to my future brother-in-law or…?"
She frowned at him again as her sister fell into more incoherent noises. "He's not your future anything."
"I think you underestimate how head-over-heels my brother is."
"That really doesn't matter," she replied. "He's incapable."
"Right now, maybe. You guys screwed him over hard." Tommy gestured with his good arm toward where they'd taken James. Even through the bars, Tommy had seen that his eyes were half-open. "It's unsettling."
"Yes, it is," she agreed, sounding distant.
"So… what did you do?" Tommy asked. "I mean, since we're on the same side now, you can tell me, right?"
She tutted to herself but decided to answer him anyhow. "I followed the instructions."
"Thanks, that's super helpful," Tommy grumbled, though he lost his focus on the Cuckoo when he saw an orderly headed their way. "Hey… we're not gonna do any more body modifications while I'm drugged, right?"
"Not at this time," the orderly said in a far-too chipper tone.
"That's really not as reassuring as it should be," Tommy said, eyeing the orderly as he drew up the shot. "Cap, if they draw butts on my face, you're on deck," he said, though his last words were slurring already.
Scott had fallen asleep on Natasha's couch, though no one else was home anyway, so it didn't matter. He knew that Natasha and Clint had gone with Wade to hit a department lead, and the kids were with the others who had been gathered at Westchester until they had a lock on these guys. He'd seen them off and had been on the phone with Lorna asking her how her search for adamantium was going … and then, he must have fallen asleep. He didn't remember when he drifted off, but now that he was awake, he took a moment to text Annie and make sure she was okay.
Jan is trying to keep Tony distracted by dragging him in to approve her baby outfit designs for me, so… I'm distracted too. You okay?
Fine. Still no word.
We'll find them.
I know.
Scott dragged his hand down his face and then got to his feet to splash some water on his face. He had only just gone to help himself to some coffee when he heard the window rattling at the fire escape and stepped out of view to see who was coming.
It was apparent very quickly, though, who it was when after a semi-stealthy opening of said window, his visitor fell into it, swearing colorfully without actually swearing. "Why don't you have a pillow under that window?" Wade muttered to himself - half entangled in his own gear as he tried to right himself with little success. "All the Hawkeyes coming and going, one would think that something like that would be standard."
"Any luck?" Scott called out and stepped into view, startling Wade into a tangle of arms and legs before he righted himself.
"Well … we found a facility, but they were working on mutates. My favorite kind of nightmare fuel, let me tell you. But no sign of the kids yet," Wade admitted. "I'm starting to think that Heather Hudson gal pal of yours isn't giving you the best leads."
"It's what she can find," Scott said diplomatically, though his voice was tight. "Lorna's still working her angle. It's hard on her when she has the whole of Canada and the United States to scan, and she doesn't have the technique like her father did. Takes years to perfect."
"Well. That might be a good thing, ultimately," Wade said. "But ya know, if it's all the same to you, I think I might just throw a dart at the board and try whatever gets hit next." He shrugged with both shoulders several times. "You know. Since we know where some of them are…"
"At this point, that's just as good as any other tactic," Scott said, sighing as he filled up his mug of coffee.
"Great - I'll get the darts," Wade said with an obvious grin under his mask. "Trick shots only, now! No cheating by looking." He rushed off to find what he was looking for, sure that Natasha and Clint would have a dart board somewhere, and in his wake, it was apparent he wasn't being delicate in the least by the sounds of things falling over. But that left Scott to consider where they were - and how just barely off Heather's intel had been.
They'd found old sites, ones that were no longer in use or those that were being renovated for other purposes. They found mutates and prisons and the skeletal start at what had to be a camp … but not at all what they needed to find. And there were dozens of sites that they'd heard about that needed to be sifted through when the intel was crossed or openly misleading.
Scott was on his second cup of coffee - and Wade had finished hunting down a dartboard and then hunting down at least one purple dart - when his phone went off with an unknown number.
Not wanting to miss any leads, Scott picked up quickly. "Hello?"
"Oh good you picked up," said a breathless Cassie Lang on the other end of the phone. "I called a few wrong numbers. I don't have anyone's number memorized, you know? I had to - that's not the point."
"Cassie, where are you?" Scott said - and noted that Wade's head came up when he heard who was on the phone.
"Well, right now I'm in Waterton, but I had to walk for a few days before I got here, and I spent half of that hiding from patrols, so I can give you kinda where the others are? I'm sorry. I wish I was more helpful. I've barely slept in I don't even know how long, and I lost track of where I was after I got chased by something very big in the dark in the middle of the night and-"
"Where in Waterton?" Scott asked, nodding toward Wade. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I just need to grab someone who can find the rest of the group once we get there."
"There's only one grocery store, and someone here let me borrow a phone," Cassie said. Her voice was shaking, and she sounded like she was on the verge of crying. "I said my boyfriend - you know what, it doesn't matter. I have a cover story for now, but I'm going to go small and disappear because I don't know - I don't trust - I don't want to get caught again."
Hearing Cassie say that she didn't trust anyone, Scott let his shoulders drop. "I promise we're going to be there soon. Hang on, Cassie," he said, frowning as he heard her hang up on the other end before he turned to Wade. "Catch that?"
"Sure did, boss," Wade said with a sharp nod. "When do we leave?"
"As soon as I get Lorna. I'm sending a text to Heather right now; I promised her she could come."
"Don't you have a dimension kicker that can speed that along?" Wade asked.
"She's not precise traveling in the same dimension, but yeah, she could get us closer," Scott said, suddenly brimming with energy he hadn't had in days. "Jet might be faster. I need you and Natasha to tell me what we know about any place near Waterton." He was already walking away, pulling his phone out to start making calls.
Wade pulled out his phone instead of going to Natasha's maps, muttering "Waterton" over and over as he looked it up to see where the heck it was, and then made a loud sound of discovery. "Never heard of it," he said as he zoomed in on the map and started to look at the area surrounding it. "But it looks like prime territory for something from those creeps."
Scott nodded as he waited for Lorna to pick up. "Let Natasha and Clint know where we're going. And let them know Cassie hasn't eaten or slept well in days; she'll need a friendly face, and I'm taking Heather and Lorna straight past her position to find the others."
"On it!" Wade called out.
Scott nodded and then switched gears when Lorna picked up the phone. "I know I just called you not that long ago, but we know where to narrow your search. We're going to a little town called Waterton, and we'll use you like a guiding beacon once we're there."
"Alright," Lorna agreed quickly. "I'll be there as quickly as I can. Are we meeting at the school or the tower or …"
"I'm already close to the tower, and I need to ask America how close she can get us anyway. I'll meet you there," Scott said. When Lorna hung up, Scott glanced over at Wade, who was working his own phone. He didn't realize it, but for the first time, his eyes were at a full glow behind his glasses - without him having to think about it.
Nate never had any warning when the department would decide it was time to try to break into his head again, but when he heard people coming down the hall, he quickly put a stopper on his ongoing psychic project and got to his feet, glaring even as he was manhandled elsewhere.
But when he saw the Cuckoos…
"You haven't been able to break in with all five of you; what makes you think three is enough?" Nate said, his eyes flashing, his arms crossed even as the door closed behind him.
"You're not up to it," One of them said, though she didn't sound as sure as she looked. And the other two looked openly shaken already.
Nate looked them over and knew immediately what had happened. "My big brother's head harder to break into than you expected?" he asked, already mentally reaching for the fuse on his bomb.
The girl in front narrowed her eyes for an instant, her lip curled with her answer. "Not anymore."
But that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Knowing how scared and hurt his brother had been, even the implication that they'd bested him was too much.
In the time it took him to blink, he let loose the bomb he'd been building, targeting the Cuckoos, of course, but lobbing it with all the force he had in him, so that it would explode into any other minds he could reach.
He could hear people screaming beyond the walls of the cell, but the Cuckoos themselves barely screamed before they dropped, their expressions contorted with pain and fear but their bodies limp, their minds a wasteland.
Nate smiled grimly and wiped the blood from underneath his nose, then turned toward the door. The guards outside of it had been caught in the radius of his blast, so no one was stopping him from getting out.
But, as it turned out, someone else seemed to be heading his way.
There were a few shouts down the hall, but every shout was silenced quickly ahead of the sharp echo of hard soled shoes on the smooth floors. It had a different echo than the boots that the guards - and seeing as there was no backlash to follow whoever it was, Nate didn't know who to expect. But on seeing the guy when he finally opened the door - the first impression was a little underwhelming. He didn't look like anyone Nate readily recognized. At first.
"What happened here?" the man asked - and though he didn't look familiar, that voice was hard to mistake. The disguise was holding up, but that was Sinister. Here, in the middle of the weapons facility.
"The hell do you think happened?" Nate half-shouted, gesturing broadly, the echo of James's scream still lingering in his head. "The department is trying to enslave or kill us all - and they broke my brother."
Sinister's expression was already teetering on the edge of rage, even as he snarled at Nate. "Why didn't you kill them, then?" he asked before he strode over to the blondes and used quick, precise movements to cut their throats. "After what they did to your brother, what held you back?"
Nate barely reacted to their deaths; he was still furious. "There's nothing but destruction in their minds - or there was. And I wasn't sticking around. What the hell are you doing here, anyway? You're a little late to save my dad, aren't you?"
Sinister's expression twisted for an instant, making it clear he didn't know what Nate was talking about. "I'm here for your brother. And I'm not leaving until I know for sure if he's salvageable or if they made a mess while I was elsewhere." He narrowed his eyes at Nate for an instant - then waved a hand to tear the collar off him before he turned on his heel and started down the hall again. "You can deal with your uncle yourself."
Nate hesitated, but it wouldn't be the first time he and Sinister were on the same page, after all.
So, rather than waste the moment, he rushed toward Alex's cell.