David Alleyne

I hope you don't mind, but I figured it'd be best to take over storytelling from Peter just for a bit. Are you all good with that?

Cool.

Anyway, we were all doing our thing to cover for Peter while he was out of commission. At The Daily Bugle, Betty had the genius idea of telling J. Jonah Jameson that Peter was going through a bad case of MRSA. Jonah didn't even raise a stink after that. He just told Betty to tell Peter to take as much time as he needed to recover. I didn't know if Jonah was extremely concerned about Peter's wellbeing or if he didn't want to deal with a possible MRSA outbreak – it's kind of hard to tell with that man. Either way, though, Peter was covered on that front. Kitty was making sure that Peter's bills were paid while Joanna and Buford took turns keeping tabs on Peter's apartment. There was a bit of a question about Peter's schooling, but I figured Scott had it covered.

I was feeling some type of way about Peter being out of commission. I felt like a failure for not being there during Peter's fight. Betty tried to make me feel better about it. She pointed out that there wasn't much I could have done if I was there. While she wasn't wrong, it didn't do much to improve my mood. I really didn't want to hear about how it wasn't my fault, and I definitely didn't want to hear about how my presence wouldn't have done jack for the outcome. I felt useless. It wasn't Betty's fault. I just always had complicated feelings when it came to my power. The power I got was useful and it came in clutch for me quite a few times. The thing was that there were times I was questioning my own intelligence. On good days, I really did feel like I was a genuinely smart person. On bad days, I wonder if I would have made it as far as I did academically if I didn't have the power I got. Beyond that, though, my power wasn't exactly flashy or overtly good for offense. I didn't control a force of a nature. I couldn't walk through walls or destroy something with a mere look. I couldn't turn into some liquid metal or survive a nuclear holocaust. And I certainly wasn't bulletproof or had the strength to lift a car up like it's nothing.

Some days, I wondered why Scott even depended on me.

Speaking of Scott, I was nearing my shift when I got a call from him. I was in the copy room when he was calling. I looked left and right before I answered the call.

"What's up, Big Scott," I greeted.

"David, we have a problem," he said on the other line. "I need you to meet me at The Bunker. And bring Betty with you if you can. It concerns her… and the others."

There was something in his tone that made me sigh. I just knew I wasn't going to like what he was going to tell me. "…Alright, I'll be there ASAP."

"Good. I'm looking forward to seeing you."

The call ended. I blinked a couple of times as I pulled the phone away from my ear.

"Today's gonna suck… even more."

After work was over, I was able to grab Betty on my way out. I told her that Scott wanted to speak to us. Betty looked confused – understandably so – but she went with me without any questions. We took a taxi to the area The Bunker was in and had the driver drop off us off a block away. From there, we walked over.

"What do you think it's about?" Betty asked as we walked.

"Probably something about our current predicament," I replied bitterly.

"…You don't sound thrilled."

"That's because when Scott talked to me, he hit me with the tone."

"The tone?"

"The tone – specifically, the 'you're not going to like what I have to tell you' tone."

I heard Betty chuckle. I looked at her. She shook her head as she smiled wryly. "Well, it wasn't like I was expecting good news to pop up anytime soon."

"Such is life."

We finally reached The Bunker. Once we entered, we made our way down to the lower level. Scott was there. He was seated at the table. He had his elbows on the top of the table. His hands were laced together and he had his chin resting on top of his fingers. Behind his glasses, his eyes were glowing big time, and bits of energy were raining down on the table like sparks from metal being sawed.

"Please sit," he said. Betty and I looked at each other before we walked over to the table and took seats across from him.

"Why do you look like you want to blow a hole into something?" I asked.

"Or someone?" Betty added.

"That's because I want to do both of those things." He took in a breath. The glow from his eyes faded. He lowered his hands. "I might as well get straight to it. Quentin Beck made his presence known."

From my peripheral, I saw Betty suddenly stand up. "Wait, what?!"

"When did this happen?" I asked. I just sat there, practically floored.

"Yesterday," Scott replied. He took in a breath. "Cessily called me last night to explain everything. MJ and Cessily were nearing the end of their shift at Peter Pan when Beck arrived with four masked individuals. During the conversation, Beck claimed that the Fiery Woman who has been terrorizing Peter is a cohort of his."

"So, we got confirmation." I started sucking teeth.

"He also claimed to have the backing of the U.S. Government. He then gave MJ an ultimatum. She has two weeks to contact Beck and inform on the X-Men."

I raised my eyebrows. "And if she doesn't?"

"Then she, along with Betty and Ned, will be arrested, their respective families will be brought in for questioning, and, assuming they miraculously beat the allegations, their reputations would be so heavily smeared that their lives would be ruined."

"…Son, of, a, BITCH!" Betty yelled out before she slammed her fists on the table, startling me. I looked at her as she turned and walked a few steps away. "…Why? Why does the U.S. Government keep employing such… such… assholes?!"

"Somewhere along the line, they lost the plot." I looked back at Scott. He sighed. "I'm already working on contingencies in case we have to deal with the worst possible outcome. However, informing you two about this recent development is not the main reason I called you guys over. As a matter of fact, Betty, you can go if you want."

Betty laughed. I looked back at her and saw her turn around and walk back to the table. "Yeah, no." She sat back down next to me. "I'm not comfortable being alone at this moment."

Scott nodded. "In that case, you might want to tag along with David since I need to him to run an errand."

"…An errand?" I repeated with a raised eyebrow.

Scott looked at me. "It's a very important one. And normally, I wouldn't send you to do this, but everyone's hands are full at the moment."

I gave him a glare. "What, you think I can't do it?"

Scott raised his eyebrows briefly. "It's not so much about your ability to carry out this task as it is about the person that's essential to it.

I stared at him for a few seconds. I then tilted my head slowly. "Okay, first off, what do you need me to do?"

"I need you pick up someone from Newark. According to Dr. Reyes, due to his healing factor and resistance to normal drugs, treating him is ironically quite difficult. As such, I have to bring in someone who has healing powers."

"Why go all the way to Newark?" Betty asked. "I mean, couldn't we just bring in Doctor Strange?"

"Under normal circumstances, I would. However, between our situation and the incarceration of both Luke Cage and Jessica Jones, I have reason to believe that every known superhuman, vigilante, and the like in New York is under heavy surveillance. Going to them in my civilian identity has potential problems. And considering that Ned's name got dropped, I'm not sure having him facilitating a way for us to get to Strange or any other healer I know would be wise."

"Okay, so we don't have much in the way of alternatives," I said. "Who do you want me to pick up?" Scott tilted his head as he gave me a look. I stared back at him. After some seconds, I came to a realization. I suddenly stood up. "No."

"David," Scott began to say.

"Nope. I'm not dealing with that asshole."

"I understand you have your reservations…"

"Reservations?" I laughed bitterly. "No, Native Americans have reservations. People trying to do something special for their significant other on Valentine's Day have reservations." I pointed a thumb to my chest. "I don't have reservations. I got reasons not to want anything to do with him!"

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but… who are we talking about?" Betty asked.

"Josh Foley," Scott explained. "He's a mutant who can control the biological structure of any organic matter. Because of that, that allows him to do a lot of things to the human body. One of those things, relevant to our situation, is the ability to heal to a rather extreme extent. He could regrow organs if need be, heart and brain included."

"So what's the issue?"

"The issue?" I replied as I looked at Betty. "The issue is that Josh Foley is a former Friends of Humanity member. Josh was all about that anti-mutant shit. He had no problem with palling around with people who hated mutants, minorities, those who are Jewish or Islamic, or people who fall under the LGBTQ umbrella. But lo and behold, about a year ago, guess who came crawling to Scott when his mutant powers became active and all his bigot friends he was fucking with didn't want anything to do with his mutie ass?!" I heard Scott take in a breath. I looked at him. "Look, I apologize for saying that, but I can't do this. Fuck him!"

Like most mutants, I had a very negative opinion about the Friends of Humanity and other anti-mutant hate groups. For me, it was rather personal. When Scott found me, I was outed as a mutant by this online group called Purity and had a target on my back. It took a lot of maneuvering on his part for me to escape that situation. Add in the fact that I'm Black and bi, and… well, I had zero sympathy for Josh when I heard his story. Craig and Kitty gave him the cold shoulder, and even Scott was a bit frigid with him. The way I saw it, that was a courtesy. I even told Josh straight up I had no issues choking him out for rubbing me the wrong way.

The room went quiet for some seconds. I heard the sound of something scraping on the floor. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked to my left and gave Betty the side eye. She responded by giving me a sympathetic smile.

"…David, I get it," Betty said slowly. "I really do. Under different circumstances, I'd even back you up on this. But we're not under different circumstances. Right now, our backs are against the wall and Peter is out of commission. He needs help in a major way, and if this is the only way we can do it, we should probably put our personal feelings aside to do it. For us, Peter would've done the same thing."

I don't know what I hated more – the fact that she said it so calmly, or the fact that she was making all of the sense in the world. I wanted to argue with her. But I couldn't shake the image of Peter on the hospital bed being hooked up to monitors. That image's been burned in my mind since the last time I saw him. It was always a big deal when someone gets packed up like that. For it to happen to someone as strong as Peter has me more than a little shook. Also, I was still carrying quite a bit of guilt over not being able to help Peter in his time of need.

I hated Josh. I really did. But I didn't hate him enough to not help Peter.

I took in a breath as I closed my eyes. I then opened my eyes and gave Scott a pointed glare.

"You owe me for this," I grumbled.

"Noted," Scott replied evenly.

After that, Betty and I went up a level. We made a stop at the weapons locker. I grabbed a Mossberg 500 X12 Shotgun – I decided to grab it since, technically, it wasn't a firearm.

Legal loopholes, aren't they fun?

As checked the weapon, Betty reached over and grabbed a Taser 7. I glanced at her curiously, but didn't saying anything. After I loaded the rifle with the XREP shells, I made my way over to where the cars were situated. I eyed the cars before my eyes landed on a Toyota Camry. After grabbing the corresponding keys from a nearby lockbox, I made my way back to the car mentioned. I pressed the unlock button on the remote before I moved into the driver's seat. After I placed the shotgun onto the backseat, I put on my seatbelt. I waited for Betty to move into the front passenger seat.

"You sure you want to come along?" I asked.

Betty took time to buckle up before she gave me a look. "Someone has to watch your back," she replied.

I scoffed. "What, you think I'm going to crash out when I see Josh?"

"…Yes."

I blinked. I then tilted my head in acknowledgment and looked forward. I put the key into the ignition and turned it to start the car. I let the car sit idle while I hooked my phone up to the car's Bluetooth. I then went through my playlist before I landed on a song. After set my phone down, I sat there, letting the intro of the song play.

Now I was raised in a sandbox, next to you and her

You was holding the handgun, she was giving birth

To a baby boy to be just like you, I-I wonder what's that worth

I-I wonder if you ever knew that you was a role model to me first

The next day I-I woke up in the morning, seen you on the news

Looked in the mirror, then realized that I-I-I had something to prove

You told me, "Don't be like me, just finish watching cartoons"

Which is funny now cause all I see is Wile E. Coyotes in the room

"Are you good?" Betty asked.

"Yeah, I am," I whispered back.

"It's for Peter. We are doing this for Peter."

"I know, I know." I nodded a couple of times. "Let's get this over with."