Author's Note: Anyone else here ever find old writing that still works for a story you want to write? Most of what is written here is from some of my old unpublished work and honestly, they fit pretty well for where I'm wanting to go with it. That being said, there might be some discrepancies within the fic, so if you spot any, feel free to let me know.
Xavier Institute, Midvale, Delaware; September 14th
By the stars, Hank couldn't believe what he was seeing. Even in all his years as a mutant and the days since the tests had begun, he was still amazed at the capabilities of Clark. It got Hank's mind abuzz with the philosophical and genetic implications of Clark's mere existence, as well as the fact that he had kept himself hidden for so long.
"Alright, Clark. That'll be enough for today," Hank stated over the intercom after Clark once again nearly destroyed the Danger Room trying to contain holographic disasters and rescue as many people as possible.
"Sorry about that, Hank," Clark called out as he made his way out of the Danger Room. "I'm afraid I got a bit excited and overdid it again."
"At least the Danger Room's still in one piece." Hank replied with a grin.
"Ha! Yeah. Glad I was able to assist with the repairs as well." Then the conversation shifted tone. "So, why all the testing?"
"For the most part it's due to my own curiosity. And considering the amount of data I received, it'll take months just to decode it all. But it was also to gauge how well you could fit with the rest of the X-Men as a fighting force."
"And I guess I don't quite make the cut?"
"Quite the opposite, in fact. You have enough versatility that I dare say the Cape Citadel incident might have gone much better for you." Hank frowned slightly at that.
"Hey, don't get yourself too down on that. We've got a new student coming in, right?"
"Ah, yes. Kurt Wagner. The Professor wanted me to speak with him personally, given our shared mutation and the gift you've given me." Hank briefly gestured at his watch, which was currently giving off a low-level psychic field that suggested to most people that the blue furred man must surely
"You want company?" asked Clark as they had made their way from the Danger Room hallway to the Hanger.
"No, I should be more than adept to handle things on my own. Plus I'd like to mull over some of the data from your tests, and it helps to be alone."
Hank had begun walking up the ramp of one of the X-Jets when Clark began, "Well, if you need any help, you know I'm a…" Clark stopped, pausing for several seconds.
"Trouble?" Hank perked up slightly.
"Oil tanker's threatening to spill. Could cause an ecological disaster that'll take years to recover from."
"Well, you're already dressed for the occasion…" and with that, Clark took off into the air at Mach 2, leaving Hank with his thoughts and a mission.
Munich, Germany
Hank shuffled about nervously as he searched the entrance of the Munich Airport. Even though he had done extensive field tests on the device that was, in truth, just an ordinary watch, he was still astonished at the thought that Clark... Kal-El... had such a simple and ingenious method of disguising himself. Not only that, but the fact that this method (imprinting what Clark called a 'psychic perception filter' on a wearable object) was within the Professor's capability to create...
Hank hadn't felt normal since his secondary mutation came about and transformed him into a blue furred monster. But with this psychic perception filter, he had a chance again, and he wanted to share that with the individual he came here to pick up.
After leaving the hanger, making sure to grab the box meant for Kurt, and entering the main building, Hank scanned the area for Kurt or his adopted mother... and spotted Mrs. Szardos waving at him by the airport chapel. "Mr. McCoy, we've been waiting for you. Kurt's just finishing up with his prayers if you wanted to speak with him now," said the dark eyed Romani woman in what was initially surprisingly fluent English... until Hank remembered she was a fortune teller in a traveling circus. "He's quite nervous about the move to America."
"Of course," Hank replied as he opened the chapel door. Inside was what one might expect of an airport chapel; four rows of pews, a stained glass window depicting a biblical event (Jesus carrying his cross up to the hill where he would die, if Hank remembered correctly), an alter at the front, and a small confessional booth off to the side. Kneeling at the alter with prayer beads in his hands was a heavily obscured Kurt, muttering a prayer in German. Hank quietly poked his head back out. "Could you make sure we're not disturbed?" Mrs. Szardos nodded as Hank shut the doors and approached Kurt, announcing his presence with a cough. "Mr. Wagner."
The figure quickly turned toward him, careful to obscure his face as he swiftly moved the prayer beads into his pockets... but not before Hank noticed each of his hands only had three fingers... "Herr McCoy... I'm... I'm not sure if your institute is the best place for me..." Kurt declared in a heavier German accent than his adopted mother's.
Hank smiled, knowing what was about to happen. "You're just nervous. The Professor can help you, though... just as he helped me." As he spoke, he slowly began to remove the watch on his wrist, standing tall as the illusion of the plain, burly man dropped to reveal the Beast within.
"Mein Gott im Himmel! How dit you do zat?" Kurt exclaimed as he pulled back the hood to reveal his devil-like features: short, blue-black hair, dark blue skin that appeared to be more like a soft fur, and piercing yellow eyes.
"I'm not quite sure I understand some of it myself, but the basics are simple psychology mixed with a telepathic nudge. Here." Hank held out the box in his hands to Kurt, excited to see him try on the watch within. Kurt gently reached for it and opened the box. "All you need to do is put on the watch and focus on it for a moment." Kurt did so and Hank's perception of him shifted slightly to replace the blue felt-skin with pale skin and his yellow eyes with dark blue ones. "Most often, people don't expect to see people with our respective visages, and with these devices, they won't." Hank had put his watch back on as Kurt moved toward the bowl of holy water to examine his face before noticing his hands now appeared to have five digits each.
Kurt immediately went to hug Hank, "Vielen dank, Herr McCoy!"
"Let's get you to the Institute," Hank said softly as he and Kurt left the chapel. Mrs. Szardos gave Kurt a tearful goodbye, seeing Kurt's new appearance, and thanked Hank for helping her son as they left.
Metropolis University; August 23rd
Most of the X-Men questioned Clark's choice of attire. Clark, however, insisted that no one would expect a man wearing a brown tweed jacket, black dress pants, all-black wingtip shoes, horn-rimmed glasses, and a bowtie to be anything less than a dork.
Now, his clothing was put to the test as he entered his first class for the year: Intro to Criminology. He had decided long ago that if he was going to try and help people, he'd go all in and not only prevent disasters, but also solve the crimes he couldn't reach in time.
As Clark sat down, he took stock of the room, moderately sized with most of the students just now coming in. One particular student caught his eye as a post-adolescent male, and she was beautiful. Beautiful brown hair that was currently tied up in a makeshift bun, caramel skin, and almond eyes; her short stature belittling her presence in the room, her body language conveyed a strength that said 'I own this room'.
He would have gotten up and introduced himself, but instead he decided to awkwardly pick at his shoe so it would seem he was busy.
Unfortunately for Clark, the only advice he ever received on how to meet and date women came from an extroverted meta-alien time traveler from the 31st century. Though considering that he was now dating the telepathic woman who had taught Clark everything he knew about how to resist psychic attacks, Clark might have done well to have listened.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, the teacher rose from his desk. "Welcome to college, where it's okay to skip class," the teacher, a forty-something man by the name of Julius Schwartz, began before pausing for effect, "Just not mine."
"Skip class, I'm going to staple myself to the floor," Clark overheard a student whisper to the brunette.
"Let's start the quarter with some shameless fun," Mr. Schwartz began, "Murder on the Riverboat Queen. If you're given a piece of paper, that means you're one of the witnesses…" he paused for effect once more, "or the murderer, who is given their cover story. Those without a paper are the Pinkertons assigned to the case. Now, the fastest time on record was set by Ms. Lane's brother, Mike," the brunette nodded in acknowledgement, obviously aware of the story. And with that, Mr. Schwartz sent the students off to solve a murder, Clark and Ms. Lane amongst the Pinkertons.
After about five minutes, Mr. Schwartz approached Clark while his TA came up to Ms. Lane. "Back to your seats, everyone. It seems we have two winners," he let everyone return to their seats before he continued, "So, Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane, who are you going to send to prison for the rest of his natural born days?"
Clark and Ms. Lane spoke at relatively the same time, "Rutherford Styles," though Ms. Lane added that he was, "Blind, but not really blind."
"So, Lois, how'd you figure it out?" Mr. Schwartz asked. Lois then went into detail about how she just surfed the internet for spoiler-filled forums for the game. The TA first protested that the game was set in the 1800s, but Mr. Schwartz allowed it, stating that he didn't set that as a specific rule.
"But, there are two potential murderers in a box, you just took a fifty-fifty stab," the TA declared.
"Not really," Lois interjected, "The other murderer was Countess McGee. Mr. Schwartz asked who I would send away for the rest of his natural born days."
"So, Mr. Kent, how did you reach this same conclusion?" Mr. Schwartz asked.
"Well," Clark began as he straightened his glasses…
"And then he went on about how he could see the murderer's sheet from where he sat, right behind the guy," Lois ranted into her cell phone as she moved with fury across the quad, "I mean, can you believe that guy?"
"Lois, you need a life in the worst way," replied her brother, Mike Lane, on the other end of the call.
"Was he cute?" asked Lois's kid sister, Lucy, obviously on another phone in their house.
"Lucy!" the elder Lane siblings yelled at the same time.
"What? She's doing the same thing she did when she first met Warren."
"Enough about my pig of an ex-boyfriend, okay," little did she know, she had just walked into the path of a falling radio tower.
However, before she could react, a large and muscular body went to shield her from the impact. Lois looked up from where she had fallen and saw that a dark haired man in red and blue tights was holding the radio tower up with ease. Not only that, he also flew the tower gently up to its original position and somehow fused the metal back in place.
"Are you alright, Miss?" the man asked as he flew back down to her, his red cape billowing in the end-of-summer breeze. For the first time in her life, Lois Lane was at a loss for words.
"I… I… who…" was just about all she could say as she attempted to discreetly take his picture.
However, the man disappeared in a blur before he could be caught on camera. And so, Lois Lane left the campus of Metropolis University in disappointment.