Uncanny X-Men

TAKING A STAND

By Ryan Krupienski

he Xavier Institute; War Room

“I’m afraid things are much worse than we originally thought.”

The words are spoken by Henry McCoy, the Beast, who stands as tall as he can before the small assemblage of X-Men sitting at the oval-shaped metal table in the middle of the large room. Cassandra Nova, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, and Warren Worthington III pay their full attention to him as he prepares to guide them through a series of holographic images being projected from the center of the table. Though most of them aren’t going to fully grasp all the intricacies of the data being presented, they’ll get the basic idea.

The basic idea alone is enough to chill them all to the bone. A week ago, a small team of X-Men returned from Russia with information retrieved from a hidden installation that was revealed as a Weapon X facility. Henry has been working hard to decipher the data, attempting to figure out what exactly the new Weapon X is up to. Considering how much pain and chaos the program has caused in the past, they can only dread what they’re about to find out.

Jean breaks the silence and asks, “What did you find, Hank?”

Henry clears his throat and motions for his cohorts to watch the holographic projection. “What you’re seeing right now is all the data I’ve managed to unlock. As per the damage to the computers at the compound, some of it was lost, but most of it was intact and easily unencrypted.” He steals a glance at Jean; it’s still baffling and a bit disconcerting to him how she managed to download the information from a machine into her mind. Between that and hearing of the Phoenix Raptor she manifested, his concern regarding the growth of her powers is only strengthening.

“That’s great, Hank,” Warren says, “but what did you find?”

“Many things,” Hank begins. “Coordinates for other complexes, profiles on doctors involved in the program, files on test subjects, some of whom we even know. I can tell you right now, my friends, that Weapon X is back in full force and possibly more dangerous than they have been in the past.”

“Especially if they’re popping up all over the place and no one even noticed,” Warren comments.

“Except Mystique,” Ororo informs him. “She was there, at the lab in Russia.”

“There’s nothing in the files pertaining to Miss Darkholme, I’m afraid,” Henry continues. “The same also goes for Emma Frost, save for a brief mention in the files relating to the experiments she was running.”

“Which was what exactly?” Scott asks.

“This is where things get rather alarming,” Henry says. “Emma’s experiments are an off-shoot of a larger project that seems to be the focal point of the program these days. The master file for this was not amongst the data retrieved, and although I’ve recovered many files regarding it, even those are fragmented. However, I think we can draw some rather concise conclusions with what I’ve discovered.”

“Which is what, Doctor?” Cassandra inquires.

Henry presses a button on the small control in his hand, and the holographic image changes to a model of a strand of DNA. “You’re all wondering how the Hellions seemingly returned from the dead? You all probably thought they were clones. I thought the same thing myself at first. However, the Weapon X program has taken the concept a step further; those weren’t clones you were fighting, they were doubles.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference, Warren,” Henry says, “is that with cloning, a new, separate entity is created. What Weapon X is doing, though, is taking a DNA sample and imprinting it onto a pre-existing person, an ‘imprintee’ if you will. Essentially, they’re using gene-therapy to graft one person’s DNA structure onto someone else.”

Jean lets out a small gasp. “Oh my God, Hank… is that what those ‘Hellions’ were? What about their minds?”

“That is indeed what they were, yes,” Henry tells her. “I have the names of the six men and women who volunteered for the procedure. And as far as I can tell from reviewing the protocol, their minds are left more or less unaffected, though over time their brain engrams could possibly mutate in order to match the bio-signature of the grafted DNA. That’s still a theory at this time, though.”

“How specific is it, Henry?” Ororo asks. “How far does the process go?”

“All the way, Ororo. The sound of the voice, fingerprints, retina, any and all genetic predispositions… including mutant abilities.”

“The perfect spy,” Scott says, shaking his head in amazement.

Henry nods. “Out of the company of a powerful telepath, yes.”

“Well we have that base covered,” Jean says, as if to give reassurance to everyone else in the room. “Hank, I have a question… what if the person being imprinted is a mutant, and they’re being imprinted with another mutant’s DNA? What happens to their powers?”

“I honestly can’t say, Jean,” Henry says with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “A human simply gains the mutant’s power, but how a mutant would be affected by the process is still unclear. I’m going to be running some more tests to see if I can get some more answers.”

“Wait, are you saying that those Hellions weren’t originally mutants?” Warren asks. “They were just human?”

“I wonder how many other of these experiments have been run,” Ororo wonders aloud. “How are they using the subjects after they’ve undergone the procedure?”

“The questions seem to be piling up, Henry,” Cassandra says in a bit of a playful tone. “I hope you can keep up.”

“This isn’t the time for levity, Cassandra,” Scott says somewhat apathetically.

Cassandra gives the first X-Man a cold look. “Nor is it a time to pick fights.”

“Okay, please,” Jean says, glancing at her husband then at Cassandra, “can we let Hank finish?”

Cassandra nods apologetically and turns back to Henry, giving him a warm smile, while Scott just gives his wife an indignant look. Just like Logan, he doesn’t much care for Cassandra, and he refuses to hide it; sometimes Jean can’t believe how different yet how alike those two are.

Henry lets out a small cough and clears his throat, signaling he’s about to resume speaking. “Now, I know you all have many questions about this… so do I. I’m going to do my best to get the answers we need, I assure you. This is a large puzzle, my friends, and so far I only have a few pieces of it.”

“If we have to, we’ll go back out there and find the other installations,” Jean says, looking around at her teammates. “Considering what we know about past incarnations of the program, I’m worried about what else they’ve got going on.”

“Speaking of those past incarnations, where’s Logan?” Ororo asks. “I would imagine he’d be here for this.”

“He’s away on a mission,” Jean tells her. “I do want him, Kurt, Domino… actually, everyone briefed on this.”

“Certainly,” Henry says affirmatively.

“Well if there’s nothing else, are we finished?” Cassandra asks. She looks at Jean and says, “We’ve got some preparations to make for the conference in Washington, I’d like to get those taken care of.”

“Yes, that’s all for now, Miss Nova.” Henry turns off the holographic projector and the image disappears, serving to officially adjourn the meeting. Everyone rises from their seats as he says, “I’ll let you all know when I’ve made any new significant discoveries.”

“Thank you, Hank,” Jean says as she and Cassandra start on their way out of the room.

Henry, Scott, Warren, and Ororo watch as the door slides shut behind the two headmistresses. “I can’t stand that woman,” Scott says, earning him some unapproving looks from Warren and Ororo.

“Scott, please, you and Logan just need to give her a break,” Warren retorts. “What did she ever do to you?”

“I… well, nothing, but I just don’t have a good feeling about her, alright? Her little rags-to-riches tale of abandonment and overcoming impossible odds is just a little too far-fetched to me,” Scott answers.

“What about the tale of the American journalist and African princess who married and had a daughter who would later be orphaned, living on the streets, manipulated by an evil entity, become a virtual goddess to a whole tribe of people, and become a would-be superhero fighting to save people who fear and hate her?” Three sets of stunned eyes fall on Ororo; she’s not usually so verbose. “Really, Scott, if that doesn’t sound far-fetched, I don’t know what does. And you know all about my past, what I’ve been through. I don’t find Cassandra’s story to be any more outrageous.”

“Yes, but being Charles’ sister? His twin? And to conveniently show up when he’s not even around?” Scott protests. He looks back and forth between Warren and Ororo. “You two can think what you want. You like her, fine. I don’t. Just get off my case about it.”

Warren rolls his eyes then turns towards the door. “Whatever, Scotty. I have a meeting with my board of directors in an hour, so I’ve got to go. See you all later.”

“I have a class in twenty minutes. I’ll be going as well,” Ororo says, moving her gaze from Scott to Henry and giving the blue-furred man a warm smile. “Good day, Henry.”

After Warren and Ororo have cleared out, Scott just shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “And I thought Ororo and I were getting along again… so much for that.”

“Oh, Scott, I wouldn’t worry about the two of them, or Jean for that matter. I think you’re overreacting a bit, honestly,” Henry states.

“I’m not, Hank,” Scott says. “I don’t trust that woman, okay? And I’m worried about Jean. Her powers…”

“Ah, maybe that’s it,” Henry interrupts. “Maybe the reason you don’t like Cassandra is because she’s encouraging Jean to embrace her growing powers, while the rest of us are mostly concerned about what those growing powers could result in.”

“Of course I think it’s stupid of Cassandra to encourage Jean like that. But even if she wasn’t… Hank, it’s not about that. I don’t know… I’m actually tired of talking about her.” Scott sits back down at the table and slumps a bit in his seat. “Speaking of Jean, though… did you get a chance to run those tests on her yet?”

“Ah, actually, no,” Henry admits. “She hasn’t had time to come in for those yet, and honestly, my lab time’s been limited as well. I’ve really only been able to work on these Weapon X files. Naturally, most of my focus these days is on Cecilia.”

“Oh, Hank,” Scott says, standing up again to face his longtime friend, “I’m sorry. Here I am ranting and raving and unloading my issues on you… and you’re dealing with something much more difficult.”

“It’s not as bad as it could be,” Henry says, his tone more hopeful than despondant. “Cecilia is being very strong. It helps me not worry so much, it enables me to focus my attention on other things, even if only for a little while.”

“Really, if there’s anything I can do, Hank,” Scott offers, “let me know.”

“I will, thank you,” Henry promises. “I’m actually going to check on Cecilia shortly, I just have to finish up some things in my lab.”

“Tell her I say hi, and I’ll come visit her soon, if it’s okay.”

“I think that’d be fine. You and Jean both, you could even bring Rachel,” Henry says with a smile.

“Sounds good to me,” Scott says. “Well, I’ll get out of your way, then. I think I might go a round in the Danger Room.”

Henry nods concurringly at the idea as he begins walking out of the room. “Yes, relieve some of that stress, my friend. I’ll see you later.”

The Living Room

He sits alone on the large leather sofa, flipping through channel after channel of the television with a bored, almost frightened look on his face. He’s not looking to really watch anything; it’s just something to pass the time. He’s not even concentrating on what he’s doing, he’s too busy thinking about something else. Someone else.

His mother.

She’s coming, here, to the Xavier Institute, today. Carol Valentino is coming to see her son, and Peter is excited yet scared out of his wits at the same time. Of course he loves his mother and is glad he’ll get to see her, but at the same time, that right there is the problem. He knows when he does see her, when he talks to her, everything that he’s trying so hard to leave behind is going to come rushing back. All the stress and anger and aggravation, all the feelings he doesn’t want to feel and all the thoughts he doesn’t want to think… they’re going to come up and slam him like a tidal wave.

And it probably won’t be pretty. Perhaps it won’t be that bad, though. He’s hoping the visit will be short and sweet; and maybe she’s changed? Maybe she won’t give him a hard time, make a scene, throw a fit? Maybe she’ll listen to what he has to say, and she’ll understand and respect the choices he’s made? Maybe she’ll just finally accept that he’s not a child anymore? Yes, and maybe George W. Bush is the greatest president the United States has ever had.

Peter lets out a sigh as a hopeless look crosses his face, and he stops flipping the channels and sets the remote down on the sofa next to him. He takes a look at the tall grandfather clock standing against the wall to his right, and realizes he’s been sitting here for nearly an hour. Just as he decides to get up and go to the kitchen, a young woman with dark brown skin and short, curly black hair comes walking into the room.

“Hey, Peter,” Angela says to him as she comes down the steps leading into the room.

“Hi,” is all he offers as a response.

“Someone’s here to see you,” Angela says, and she turns her head as an older woman, maybe in her fifties, with short brown hair comes walking into the room behind her.

Peter swallows back a lump in his throat as he locks eyes with his mother. Neither of them say anything at first, they just look at each other uncertainly. As Angela excuses herself, Carol takes a few steps towards her son, and her gaze momentarily moves to her feet as her eyes begin to water. Peter takes a few relunctant steps forward as well, until he and his mother are standing within a foot of each other.

Carol suddenly lunges forward and wraps her arms around her son, hugging him tightly to her. She begins to cry, evident by her soft sobs and the sharp, continuous jutting of her back. Peter at first stands motionless, unsure of how to react, but he knows what he needs – what, deep down, he wants – to do. He wraps his own arms around his mother, returning his embrace, and they stand there for a few moments, holding each other close.

After a couple of minutes have passed, they pull away from each other, and Carol looks at her son’s face with her watery eyes. She smiles at him, and puts a hand to his cheek, delighted to see him again after so long. Peter smiles back, happy to see his mother, but feeling awkward at the same time. He knows what always comes after the happy moments, and why should this time be any different?

“I missed you,” Carol says, offering a tilt of her head to the side and a meek smile.

“I…” Peter hesitates for a moment, then responds with, “Me too.”

“Can we sit down?” Carol asks, looking behind her at the large leather sofa. “My back really hurts…”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter answers, and the two of them go over to the couch and take a seat.

“So,” Carol says, giving her son an oddly coy look. “How long have you been here?” She takes a look around the tall room, visibly impressed by the size and decor. “Oh, I love that clock… you know, I almost bought one just like it last week…”

“That clock was like fifteen thousand dollars, mom,” Peter says as gently as he can.

“For a clock?!” Carol gasps in horror. “I can get one at Bombay for a couple hundred!”

Here she goes. Peter rolls his eyes, and decides it’s time to get back on topic here. “You want me to show you around?”

Carol turns back to her son and lets out a sigh. “You know, Peter, I have been worried sick about you… how come you can’t even call your own mother to let her know you’re okay?” Her bottom lip begins to quiver just a little as sadness and pain cross her face. “I mean, I have been having such a hard time since your father died, and with all the shit I get from her… I don’t need this! I have enough stress in my life, and I wish you could have the decency to let me know you’re all right.”

He should have called. He can’t argue that, and he won’t make up some lame excuse. He just didn’t want to call.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Peter says, looking down at his lap for a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I guess I just… had a lot going on.”

“It takes two seconds to pick up a phone and dial a number, Peter,” Carol says, this time with a bit more fervor. “What exactly have you been doing for the past five months? What is this place anyway? You’re not in school, you don’t have a job… I mean, what about health insurance? You need your allergy shots!”

“Okay, just… wait, okay?” Peter answers with more trepidation than he should. “This place is a school… for mutants. It’s called the Xavier Institute.”

“I saw the sign, yes,” Carol answers, her demeanor now surprisingly calm and collected. “So are you attending classes here? You need to let me know these things, so I can call Don and let him know, okay? You need your medicine, and you need to go in and see Doctor Thomas, it’s been too long.”

“Okay, mom, can we forget about the medical talk for a minute here?” Peter says, his frusteration growing by the second. “I want to tell you what happened, you know, how I ended up here.”

“Yes, I’d really appreciate that,” Carol says, crossing her arms.

“Well, okay… I was attacked, when I was coming home from work the night I disappeared. You heard about the Friends of Humanity, how they rounded up all those mutants in Seattle? Well, those were the people who attacked me, but…” Carol’s eyes widen in horror and she raises a hand to cover her mouth. “Okay, mom, you don’t need to freak out, I’m fine. The people here rescued me, okay? I’m fine.”

“Oh my God, did they hurt you? How did they find you? Why would they want to hurt you?!”

“Mom! Please! They didn’t hurt me, I’m absolutely fine!”

Carol points an authoritative finger at her son. “Don’t get snippy with me, I’m just asking you some questions.”

“Well, I’m trying to explain something to you and you’re freaking out and getting all emotional and there’s no reason for it!”

Carol holds a hand to her chest and her facial expression becomes despondant. “Peter, your father died less than a year ago, and I’m still hurting very badly. I think I have every right to be emotional if your life is in danger!”

“But it’s not! Not anymore, okay? I’m perfectly safe here,” Peter insists. “And I’m sorry I didn’t call you and let you know I was okay, especially for so long. I should have, that’s totally my fault… but I’m not a child, okay? I’m an adult. I don’t need you to okay everything I do.”

“You’re barely twenty years old, and you’re my child, Peter,” Carol tells him. “And you’re safe here? Where is ‘here’? What is this place to you? What do you do here?”

Peter takes a deep breath as he prepares to give his answer. He knows his mother isn’t going to like it one bit.

“I’ve been doing a little bit of studying on computer programming… and I’ve also been… training.”

“Training for what?”

“Training to… well, you know… training with my mutant power.”

“Oh really?” Carol says, cocking an eyebrow. “Well I wouldn’t worry about ‘training’, what I would worry about is going to see Doctor Thomas and get your allergy shots…”

“Oh will you get off it already?!” Peter yells, taking his mother aback. He’s never had a problem standing up to her, but he’s never completely snapped on her either. “Okay, listen to me… I’m a shape-shifter, metamorph, whatever you wanna call it. I can make myself look and sound like anyone I want…”

“Yes, I know this already, Peter…”

“Please let me finish,” Peter says. “Basically what that means is that my cells are maleable, I can manipulate the very structure of my body. This also means that my cells are constantly regenerating themselves, therefore I don’t age as fast and I don’t get sick. So I don’t need to see doctors or get shots anymore… okay?”

“And how do you know that?” Carol says indignantly. “You can’t just assume things.”

“I’m not,” Peter says. “They have some of the best doctors on staff here… Doctor McCoy, you know, one of the world’s greatest scientific minds, same guy who used to be on the freakin’ Avengers? He ran tests on me, he came to these conclusions, and he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Well I want to have a talk with Doctor McCoy, because there are probably lots of things you forgot to tell him about,” Carol says. “Where is he?”

“Mom, I’m not stupid, I know what I’m doing. I’d really appreciate it if you could stop treating me like an idiot.”

Carol’s mouth drops open in protest. “I never said you were an idiot! All I’m saying is I’m your mother, and there are certain things…”

“I knew this was going to happen.” Peter abruptly rises from his seat on the sofa and turns away from his mother.

“What? That what was going to happen?” Carol demands to know as she comes up behind him.

“THIS!” Peter yells, turning around to face her. “We can never carry on a normal conversation without you starting something! I can’t ever tell you something without you questioning every little thing and pointing out how I can’t do this or that and making me feel like a moron!”

“I do no such thing, you’re just trying to act like you know it all,” Carol says curtly.

“Well when it comes to me, to my life, I know a whole hell of a lot more than you,” Peter says. “You act like you know everything, everyone should bow to your will because you’re never wrong, and I’m sick of it. Maybe that’s why I never called you, because you always piss me off so much!”

“No, Peter, you do that to yourself!” Carol again points the finger at her son. “And watch your language!”

“Oh, right, this coming from the woman who swears like a sailor when she’s behind the wheel of a car,” Peter says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I do not!” Carol says defensively.

“Whatever. You know what? I’m done with this conversation. I have things to do.”

“Like what? ‘Training’?”

Peter looks Carol square in the eye. “Yeah, training… combat training, to be exact. I actually just got back from my first mission a week ago, but I gotta keep up with the drills. Never know where I’ll be sent off to next.”

“Wait wait wait,” Carol says, waving her hands in front of her, “what ‘mission’? What are they making you do here?”

“They’re not making me do anything! I’m doing what I want to do! I went to Russia because I wanted to, okay?”

“Russia?” Carol asks, puzzled. “What’s in Russia?”

“A secret lab where some ex-military guys are doing illegal experiments on mutants. Had to break in and find some woman who might have killed some of the school’s old students. Okay?”

“WHAT?!” Carol almost shrieks, not believing what she’s just heard. “Oh, that’s IT! I want to talk to whoever is in charge here RIGHT NOW! I’m not going to put up with this! You are not going on any more ‘missions’! You’re coming home with me today!”

“No, I’m not,” Peter says matter-of-factly. “I’m already ‘home’. I’m staying here.”

Carol lets out a gasp. “No… no you’re not! You’re coming with me, young man!”

“Don’t make this difficult, okay? It doesn’t have to be. I’m staying here. End of discussion.”

Carol gulps back a lump in her throat, and her eyes water as she looks at her son. Amidst a myriad of negative emotions, her fear stands out the most, and it shows in her eyes. More than her anger, her contempt, her depression, her need for control… her fear overshadows it all. Forgoing all her points and questions and outbursts, she’s really just concerned for her son. She really does love him.

“I see,” Carol says cooly, nodding her head a couple times. “Well then… do what you want. Live where you want. I guess I can’t stop you.”

Carol turns away from Peter and begins walking out of the room, intending to head for the front door. He doesn’t follow her, instead opting to head for the room’s other exit leading to the back end of the mansion. He doesn’t want to leave things like this, but he decides for now, he has to. They’ll patch things up at some point, they always do, but he can’t let her regain that control she used to have over him. He knows too well how she operates, and isn’t going to let himself fall into one of her ‘traps’ this time.

Carol stops and turns around, and watches as her son disappears from sight. Her eyes begin to water, and she just stands there, alone, for a moment. She wants to follow him, and even more to drag him out of this place… but she can’t. She won’t. She knows things will be okay again between them at some point, but for now, they need to be apart. She may not be known for being the most rational person in the world, but even she knows when to call it quits.

“Uhm… Missus Valentino?” Angela says as she comes around the corner and greets the older woman. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Carol says, dabbing her eyes with her fingers to halt her tears. “I think I’ll get going, thank you for showing me in.”

“No problem,” Angela says as she follows Carol to the foyer.

“I… do have a question,” Carol asks. “Or maybe more than a question, but… well, how is it here? Is it safe?”

Angela ponders her answer for a mere second. “Yes, it is. I came here so my son could be safe, and so far, so good. The people here take great care of everyone, and they really want what’s best for all of us. Yeah, it’s kinda strange sometimes… but they’re good people. I trust them.”

Carol nods in understanding. “That’s… good to know. Thank you.”

“Take care,” Angela says as Carol opens the door to leave. “Come back anytime.”

Carol turns her head for a moment and smiles. “I think I will.”

New York University Medical Center

She lies quietly in her bed, her eyes fixated on the book currently in her hand. It’s something she’s been doing – reading – to keep her mind off of things, and to help the time pass more quickly. What better way to escape reality than to immerse yourself in someone else’s life, whether or not it be fictional? Cecilia Reyes can’t think of a better way.

When she finishes a chapter, though, and closes the book for a while, it all comes back to her. She’s lying in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown. She’s sick. She hascancer. She’s almost come to terms with it, really, but how can she truly accept it? The fact that she could die in the not too distant future? Considering that she helped find the cure to one fatal disease in the Legacy Virus, she finds it exceptionally cruel that she’s now afflicted with another.

It’s testing her. It’s truly testing her faith in God, in her belief that he is a good and loving God – that he even exists at all. She finally knows now what people with these kinds of deadly diseases have to suffer through; as a doctor, she’s seen the worst, but never experienced it, until now. She wonders, how could any loving God let His children suffer so horribly? What is the purpose of these agonies? She’s always been a strong believer in the Catholic faith, but now… now she’s just not so sure.

And it kills her, because she feels like she’s fighting so many battles. A battle to hold onto her life, a battle to hold onto the love of her life, a battle to keep her faith in God, a battle to be strong for her friends and family… it’s almost too much. Sometimes she wants to scream, to just explode, and let everything out. But she can’t. She won’t; it’s not who she is. And she’s strong enough to keep up the front, she has to be… for those who love and care about her, but even more, for herself.

It could be worse. That’s what she keeps telling herself, to try and ease her fear and frusteration. They could have found the cancer a lot later, the tumor could be larger and more spread out, she could be getting a lot more ill from the treatments… she has to be thankful for the small things, right? At least, she tells herself, she’s not terminal.

Yet.

Books. Lots and lots of books, it’s been her great pleasure to wade through them all. She’s surprised herself with all the reading she’s been doing, because outside of medical text, she’s never been a big reader. She has some of those too, but for now, she finds it refreshing to read actual stories, many of which she’s heard of over the years but never had a chance to read. What better time than now to catch up?

Cecilia lets out a sigh and puts a bookmark in her book, closing it up and setting in on the nightstand to her right. She takes off her glasses, then grasps her mug of coffee and takes a sip. Suddenly, she hears a light knock on the door to her room, and she perks up a little. “Who is it?” she calls out.

“Hey, it’s Bobby. And Jubilee,” a man’s voice responds.

A small smile finds its way to Cecilia’s face. “Come on in,” she says.

A young man with short, brown hair comes into the room, holding a bouqet of flowers, followed by a young Asian woman with long, black hair carrying a small paper bag. Bobby Drake and Jubilation Lee both wear a smile, and they walk up to Cecilia and each give her a hug. “How are you feeling?” Bobby asks her as he sets the flowers on her nightstand.

“Oh, well, not too bad for the moment. My latest chemo was almost a week ago, so the side effects have just about worn off completely. I’ll probably be back at the mansion any day now. Until the next treatment… then it’s back here I come.”

“Why don’t you just stay at the mansion?” Bobby asks. He takes a seat in one of the chairs next to Cecilia’s bed, and Jubilee does the same. “You know Hank and all of us would take great care of you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Cecilia says in a joking manner. “You people would be in and out of my room like mad, I’d have no peace! While I’m recuperating, I just prefer to stay here. The people here know me, yeah, but they constantly got things to do. I’m not smothered. And I have time to read.”

“Speaking of which,” Bobby says as he retrieves the bag Jubilee holds, “we brought you something.”

“Drake, what did you do?” Cecilia asks, cracking a smile.

“Nothing extravagant, but I figured you’d be kinda bored here, and…” Bobby stops abruptly when Jubilee turns to him and crosses her arms. “Oh, alright,” he confesses, “it was Jubilee’s idea.”

“That’s right girl, don’t let that man take the credit,” Cecilia says.

“Yeah, really,” Jubilee says, mockingly snapping at Bobby. She reaches into the bag and brings out a thick book with a misty purple cover. “We just got you this… I read it a couple years back, when I was still at the Massachusetts Academy. I think you’ll like it.”

Jubilee hands the book to Cecilia, who nods appreciatively. “Snow Falling On Cedars… think I heard about the movie.” She smiles at Jubilee, then at Bobby. “Thank you. For the flowers, too, they’re beautiful.”

“No problem,” Bobby replies.

“You know what?” Cecilia says, looking back at Jubilee. “I don’t think you and I have ever been officially introduced.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I know who you are, you know who I am, but… it’s nice to finally meet you. Like, to get to sit down and talk, too,” Jubilee says.

“Likewise. Might be nice if the circumstances were different, but hey, whatcha gon’ do?” Cecilia says with an indignant roll of her eyes. “I heard about what happened at your old school, by the way. I’m sorry… it must have been awful.”

“Well… it could have been worse,” Jubilee says, trying not to sound too sorry for the older woman. “But, thanks.”

“How’ve you been doing?” Bobby asks. “Maybe it’s a dumb question, but…”

“Kind of. Sort of. But I know, what do you ask a cancer patient?” Cecilia asks rhetorically. “I’m not too bad. Some days are worse than others. It’s better when I’m actually at the mansion, or when I’m here and actually doing some work. Helps take my mind off things.” She looks down at her new book and adds, “So does reading.”

“How’s Hank been doing?” Bobby asks. “He really won’t talk to me much, he’s been throwing himself into his work.”

“I can imagine,” Cecilia says. “Honestly… I think it’s hitting him harder than he’ll admit, Bobby. He promised me he would keep going about his regular schedule, do the things he normally does as much as he can. But I know he’s spending a lot of time in that lab of his, trying to cure this disease…”

“I don’t wanna sound ignorant, but…” Jubilee stops and turns to Bobby before she continues, “Wouldn’t the Shi’ar have a cure for cancer? They’re so advanced and everything…”

“Oh, yeah, you’d think so. I did,” Cecilia says with a shrug of her shoulders. “Apparently there’s no such thing to them. So I just have to rely on the good old fashioned human science.”

“What are the doctors saying?” Bobby asks.

“Well, they keep saying it’s good that the tumor was found early on. Could be BS though… sometimes, that doesn’t really make a difference. And for all I know, there could be more cancerous cells somewhere else in my body that they haven’t found yet,” Cecilia explains. “So, it’s touch and go. Just gotta take it day by day, go with the flow. As long as I’m on the chemo, and get tests done regularly, it’s alright.” She pauses and takes a deep breath, then continues, “Just preparing myself for the worst.”

“Don’t even go there,” Bobby almost demands of her. “Hank won’t let anything happen to you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Drake,” Cecilia says, “that he doesn’t realize that it’s something he can’t control. He can’t whip up a formula or a device or what have you to make it go away. And I’m afraid he’s gonna go crazy trying to make me all better.”

“Hank’s smarter than that, though, I think he knows his limitations,” Bobby says.

“Of course he knows, but he’s in love with me, Bobby. We’re engaged to be married. When emotions get in the way… lord, how they can cloud your judgement,” Cecilia tells him. “Hardest part about being a doctor – staying objective, keeping an open mind, not losing it. Even worse when it’s your own friend or family member.”

“I can imagine,” Bobby says, stealing a glance at Jubilee.

Cecilia cocks an eyebrow. “Okay, forget the sentimental stuff and life lessons here for a moment… Drake, have you finally managed to land yourself a decent woman?”

Jubilee smiles at the comment, and Bobby blushes a little. “Well… yeah,” he says, glancing at Cecilia then at his girlfriend. “I have. I hope.”

“You’re doing good so far,” Jubilee teases. “We’ve been ‘together’ for a few weeks, seems like longer though. I’ve known Bobby since I was like fifteen.”

“And how old are you now?” Cecilia asks, trying not to patronize. “Please tell me you’re legal.”

“I am!” Jubilee laughs. “Almost twenty. Bobby’s twenty-seven, so… not too big a difference.”

“All I got to say is, as long as he ain’t old enough to be your daddy, go for it,” Cecilia says.

“Thank you, I’m so glad we have your blessing,” Bobby jokes.

“And might I say that Bobby’s taste in women has certainly evolved,” Cecilia says. “Hank told me all about that Opal Tanaka.”

Jubilee scoffs at the mention of the name. “Oh hell…”

“That bad, huh?”

“You have to see it to believe it.”

“Hey, come on now,” Bobby protests. “She wasn’t that bad.”

Jubilee mockingly gives Bobby a cold stare. “Dude… don’t even go there,” she says. “That ho was a nutjob. I mean, seriously! She wore gigantic pants, skull earrings, mixed lavender with camouflage, and was just about the biggest whiner I’ve ever known. What did you ever see in her?!”

“Maybe her giant pants were mesmerizing Bobby’s mind,” Cecilia offers.

Jubilee ponders the idea for a moment. “You know, I think you’re onto something…”

The two women share a laugh, and Bobby soon joins in. Making fun of Opal is kind of fun, he has to admit.

“Well I’m happy for the two of you,” Cecilia says, smiling at them both. “And I really appreciate you coming to visit. The book, the flowers… they were really thoughtful.”

“Just glad to see you, Cece,” Bobby says. “So when do you think you’ll be coming home?”

“Oh, next few days… not sure yet. I’ll keep you posted,” Cecilia promises. “For now, though… you need to leave. I’m gonna start on my new book here. And the nurses will be in soon to do their thing.”

“Okay then, let’s jet,” Jubilee says enthusiastically as she stands from her seat, as Bobby does the same. She tells Cecilia, “We’re going shopping, and I mean big time.”

“Great…”

“Oh hush, Bobby. You gotta take care of your woman,” Cecilia says.

“You’ll totally have to come with me and Anna sometime, we go everywhere,” Jubilee says. “Maybe grab Jean and Ororo too… a girls’ day out!”

“I am there,” Cecilia responds, grinning.

Bobby quickly gives Cecilia another hug, as does Jubilee, then the couple start on their way to the door. “Adios, muchachos,” Cecilia says as they wave goodbye, then exit the room.

Cecilia smiles to herself, feeling a new sense of calm come over her. She’s always happy to see her friends, and it helps that she’s not feeling too physically ill today. More than anyone else, though, she can’t wait to see her husband to be, who’s scheduled to check in on her later.

“Cecilia,” comes a man’s voice, accompanied by a knock on the door.

“Yes,” Cecilia replies, and in walks an older Asian man with graying hair. “Hi, Doctor Moy.”

“Ah, Cecilia, how are you feeling today?” the elder doctor asks.

“I’ve been worse,” Cecilia says. “Not too bad. A little nauseous, but that’s about all.”

“Good, good,” Doctor Moy says. He lets out a sigh, and opens his mouth to continue talking, but Cecilia interrupts him before the first word can escape.

Giving the doctor a curious look, Cecilia asks, “Is something wrong? I know that look… I’ve given that look before.”

“Cecilia…”

“Please, don’t give me the run around, okay?” Cecilia asks. “Just give it to me straight. Please.”

The doctor sighs again, and he begins, “Something’s changed with your condition, Cecilia. We need to have a serious talk about what the next step in your treatment is going to be…”

The Xavier Institute

Peter sits on the steps of the wide patio that lies on the back wall of the mansion, staring absently out into the distance. He’s not a happy camper right now, and he knows he won’t be cheering up anytime soon. His mother has a great way of bringing out the worst in people, and what’s so bad is that she doesn’t even realize it. Sometimes he feels like he shouldn’t get so angry… it’s just how she is. Is that an excuse, though? The rationale of his mind tells him ‘no’, but the confused mess that is his heart can’t help but feel somewhat guilty.

“Hey.”

Peter’s train of thought comes to a stop as he hears the woman’s voice. He looks up and behind him, and sees Angela walking slowly toward him. She gives him a weak smile, and he does the same. “How you doing?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just needed some air,” Peter says, and it’s almost enough to convince Angela.

“I see,” Angela responds as she plops down next to the young man. “Well, I just wanted to check on you, and also apologize.”

Peter gives Angela a puzzled look. “For what?”

“I sort of heard you and your mom talking… heard you guys yelling down the hall. And my curiosity got the best of me, so I kept listening,” Angela admits.

“Oh geez,” Peter sighs. “We were that loud? Big surprise there…”

“Look, do you want to talk about it? Yeah, we don’t know each too well, but I got a rep for being a good listener.” Angela raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. “What do you say?”

“Oh… I don’t know. I hate unloading my crap on other people.” Peter takes a deep breath, and looks at Angela again. “How much did you hear?”

“Oh, I think I heard it all,” Angela says with a small chuckle. “I don’t mean to laugh, I know it’s gotta be hard to deal with, but… damn.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good word to describe her,” Peter says, unable to resist grinning. “But if you think she’s bad, well, let’s just say she’s nothing compared to my sister.”

“Can’t relate on that, only child here,” Angela says. “How old’s your sister?”

“Seventeen. She thinks she’s all grown up, though, and just… ugh. She’s a train wreck in the making. She stays out all night, steals cars, never listens to my mom, sleeps around, does drugs, drinks… hell, she’s proud of the fact that she’s been to jail. How screwed up is that?”

“Wow, and I thought I was bad,” Angela says, laughing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh… guess I can relate to that, though.”

“What, you used to be all crazy like that?”

“Yeah… and just like all the other kids that age who do those things, I thought I had an excuse. In a nutshell, my mom died when I was eighteen, and it was the most horrible time of my life. She was really my best friend.” Angela stops for a moment, as if to collect her thoughts, but she maintains her cool. “I got into drugs too… and I did the drinking thing. Slept around too. I was just a mess, I really didn’t give a shit. Worst feeling in the world, when you think your life’s over and you’ll never be okay again.”

“Been there, definitely,” Peter says with a nod. “So then… you started doing all that, but obviously you stopped. What happened?”

Angela looks Peter square in the eye. “I got pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Angela continues. “Shoot, I almost had an abortion… but then I made a choice. I chose to stop feeling sorry for myself, to stop being an idiot, and I got my life in order. My aunt and uncle took me in for a while, I went to rehab, and then I went to college. And now here I am today, a semester away from my bachelor’s, and with a beautiful son.”

“Wow,” Peter says, amazed. “That’s a lot to deal with. But that’s really cool how everything worked out for you.”

“Oh yeah, it can be done. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems… sure, bad things happen, we all have to deal with the ups and especially the downs of life… but you know, life goes on. You know that saying, whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger? So true.”

Peter nods in agreement. He then asks, a bit hesitant, “So… how did your mom die? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Traffic accident,” Angela says. “Some asshole ran a red light and smashed right into her. She died before the ambulance even got there.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, knowing all too well the pain she felt and probably still feels.

“What about your dad?” Angela asks. “I heard your mom mention he’d passed…”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says. “It was lung cancer. He was almost sixty, he’d smoked his whole life. He fought it off for a year or so, even went into remission at one point, but last year it got really bad, and…” He stops, not sure that he wants to go on. He turns his head away from Angela for a moment and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.

“That’s horrible,” Angela says, putting a consoling hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m guessing you were close?”

“Yeah, closer than I’ve ever been to anyone in my life. I guess it’s like with you and your mom… my dad was my best friend.”

“Did he know you were a mutant?” Angela asks.

“Yeah, he did… and he didn’t really care. He was kind of surprised at first, but he was cool with it.” Peter cracks a smile as he adds in, “He wasn’t surprised I was gay, though.”

“What, you liked Madonna and Streisand and wore women’s clothes?” Angela jokes.

“No, but I never dated girls like ‘normal’ teenage boys,” Peter replies. “My mom knows those things too, and she’s the same way, she doesn’t care. She flipped out at first, but she’s over it. Only thing that hasn’t changed is her being a control freak.”

“Yeah, man… I could tell. How in the world did you live with that everyday?”

“She’s not always so bad… she just has moments. Lots of them,” Peter says with a laugh. “She just can’t stand to see me as anything but a little boy. And she can’t stand to see anybody having it good in life, and just being happy. She always has to be miserable and judgemental. I don’t understand how anyone could want to live like that.”

“And if you try and try to help them, and they won’t work with you on that… well, there’s nothing you really can do, man. But you can’t let people like that bring you down. And from what I can tell, you’re not.”

“Well, I’m trying…”

“Okay, sure. You shoulda called your mom, let her know you were okay. I know I will be mad if Trey ever doesn’t call me for five months.” Peter smiles an innocent smile. “But you stood up for yourself, you didn’t let some twisted feeling of obligation tell you that you need to do everything to make her happy just because she’s your mother. It doesn’t work that way. Too bad more people don’t realize that.”

“And here I thought I was the only one who understood that concept,” Peter says. “Well, besides my sister.”

“That’s a whole different kinda situation right there. That really just trips me out.”

“Well, trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Peter assures her. He then gives Angela an appreciative look and says, “Hey, thanks for listening and all. It actually helped.”

“Likewise, I did my fair share of storytelling too,” Angela responds. “Nice to have someone to talk to. About normal things, that is.”

“Oh, yeah… I can only deal with so much espionage and aliens and mutant experiments and stuff.”

“That’s right, Mister X-Man. You know, you gotta tell me everything that happened in Russia, I’m curious to know what’s going on.” Angela takes a quick glance at her watch then looks back at Peter. “You hungry?”

“Well… actually, sure. I could eat,” Peter says. “You like pizza?”

Angela nods approvingly. She proclaims, “If it’s Little Caeser’s, baby, bring it on.”

The War Room

Hank McCoy stands in his laboratory, viewing holographic data charts being projected from a large, metal platform sitting in the center of the room. He wears a pair of special goggles and uses them to control the computer console through blinking of the eyes; it’s one of his newest creations, and it makes it easier for him to work, now that he has husky paws instead of the dexterous fingers he previously possessed. Of course, he could always change back to his human form and work that way, but it’s just not as comfortable for him.

He’s been keeping as busy as he can, trying not to think about Cecilia’s illness. Sometimes it works; sometimes he can actually fully immerse himself in his work, in little projects here and there. It’s gotten easier with time, and although it makes him feel a bit guilty, he knows that Cecilia doesn’t want him focusing completely on her. He knows she’s in good hands. He just can’t help but feel that maybe the worst is yet to come, and all he really wants is to marry the woman he loves.

And he will. If there’s one thing he’s going to make sure of, it’s going to be that their wedding does happen, and happens the way it’s supposed to. In fact, tonight when he sees Cecilia, they’re going to start planning the impending nuptials. It’s bound to be an interesting experience for the both of them.

“Hmmm…” Hank mumbles to himself as he wades through the data, looking intently for a certain file. It’s the large cluster of files that Jean brought back with her from the Weapon X compound; he’s still working on them. One file in particular has been giving him trouble, as he’s tried everything to hack into it, but it’s been no use. It’s too well guarded, and it frusterates him that it could be the biggest piece of the new puzzle he’s uncovered.

“Working hard, I see,” a female voice says. Hank pinpoints the sound as coming from the doorway to his lab, a dozen feet away, and slowly pulls off his goggles as he turns to see Anna walking towards him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, I thought I would check on you.”

“Ah, Anna,” Hank says, pleasantly surprised to see the woman. “You’re not interrupting much. I don’t believe I’m going to be having any luck cracking open this file anytime soon.”

“What exactly are you working on?” Anna asks, stopping to stand next to Hank and study the holographic projection.

“Just an encrypted file that was retrieved from the Weapon X facility in Russia,” Hank explains. “Jean downloaded much of the information that was on their computers, though some of it was lost. I’ve unlocked everything I could, except for this file here. It isn’t being very cooperative.”

“Weapon X?” Anna says, puzzled.

“An organization formed in the early twentieth century that specialized in the scientific augmentation of living beings. Particularly mutants,” Hank tells her. “Logan was one of their experiments. They actually implanted the adamantium skeleton that he used to have. They also effectively erased his memory.”

“That’s terrible,” Anna says with a notable sincerity. She turns her head to look at the man and continues, “Henry, you know, the students are saying there’s some sort of monster down here in your lab. Do you have any idea what they’re talking about? It’s certainly not you that they mean…”

“Oh, no,” Hank says with a hearty laugh. “I know exactly what they’re talking about. That would be the one that Scott and Jean brought back from Russia. They said his name is ‘Rancor’. He’s heavily sedated, completely contained… he’s no danger.”

“Good to know.” Anna turns her attention back to the holographic data file. “So you can’t get this file open? Why not?”

“The coding is just… well, it’s incredibly complicated. Somebody went very far to make sure that any intruders didn’t gain access to this specific cluster of information.”

“You have to love how they make it easy for us,” Anna quips. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Henry. You’re a brilliant man.”

Hank smiles appreciatively at the comment, then hangs his head, a sad look crossing his face. “If only my supposed brilliance knew no bounds.”

“What do you mean?” Anna asks.

“I mean, Anna… I mean that, I can’t seem to work at the same level I used to. I’m not as focused. I’m distracted.” He lets out a sigh, then continues, “I’m working on this, working on that, and I’m just not getting anywhere. I’m usually at the top of my game, but all these projects I’m working on… the Weapon X files, trying to figure out what’s going on with Jean, helping manage the school, and… and Cecilia…”

Hank raises a paw and does his best to bury his face in it, trying to hide his pain from Anna. “Oh my goodness,” he says, as tears start to form in his eyes, “how can I? How can I do this?”

“Henry, what is it?” Anna says, wrapping an arm around her friend. “You haven’t done anything wrong…”

“How on Earth can I sit here in this lab so often when the woman I love is dying?”

“I highly doubt she wants you hovering over her all the time. She wants life for everyone to go on as usual,” Anna tells him.

Hank looks into Anna’s eyes, his own ladden with fear and sorrow. “I… I don’t think I could go on without her,” he says. “I love her, with all my heart. I want to marry her, and live a long life, grow old with her… that’s all I truly want.”

“And you will have it,” Anna says, trying to soothe Hank with her words. “You will. Cecilia is alive, and she’s fighting. She’s fighting for you, Henry. And what you have to do for her is be strong, and keep doing what you do best, Doctor McCoy.”

“Yes, yes…” Hank replies, nodding uncertainly. “I know. And I’m sorry, I can’t believe I just lost control like that. I don’t mean to unload my distress upon you, Anna.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anna says. “Who was there for me when I first came to this place? Who took me ‘under his wing’, so to speak? Who helped me settle in, feel more at home? Who healed the horrible scar that was on my face? Who became my first true friend in a long time? That was you, Henry. As you were there for me in my time of need… I’m here for you. I don’t want you to feel guilty, not for a second.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Miss Hong, inside and out,” Hank compliments her. “Thank you.”

“I’m here. Remember that,” Anna insists. She gives him a knowing look and says, “Right now, I think you need a break from all of this. Hungry?”

Hank looks at Anna, then at the holographic data file, and is about to say he has work to do. He stops himself, though, and decides Anna’s right – a break is in order.

“I’m going to see Cecilia later on,” Hank tells her, “but… I haven’t eaten all day.”

Anna smiles and says, “Then turn off your machines, Doctor, and let’s go.”

Somewhere in Nebraska

The once-proud laboratory lies in ruins, as it has for some time now. Once, it was a magnificent base of operations for one of the world’s most brilliant and dangerous scientific minds, boasting some of the most advanced technology ever conceived. Its lord and architect took good care of it, keeping everything up and running and always putting the machines to the best of use. However, Nathaniel Essex is no more, and his life’s work has long since faded away.

Not all of it was destroyed, though; when the X-Men were here the last time, to rescue their teammates and the cure to the Legacy Virus, Phoenix obliterated the facility and the man who built it. They thought there was nothing left, but they were wrong. Some of Sinister’s work remained, untouched and intact. However, even that now is gone; someone’s been here recently, as the man currently wandering the ruins can still pick up faint traces of their scents in the air. He wonders, what exactly did they take?

He’s more interested in what they didn’t take. He wants to see what’s left, what he could possibly make use of. He’s got a job to do, and deep inside here is something that will supposedly help him get it done. What exactly he’s looking for, he doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’ll know when he finds it.

He walks slowly through the wreckage, pushing twisted metal and broken cables out of his way. As he walks, his mind takes him back years ago, when he first came to this place. So much has happened since then, it feels like another lifetime. Even more recent events feel like they happened eons ago – no more is he going to be anyone’s pawn. This time, he’s the one calling the shots, it’s his own plan that’s going into action. And he can’t wait to get the ball rolling.

He stops suddenly, picking up a familiar scent, and starts sniffing the air more intently. He turns to his left and walks through a dilapidated passageway, letting his nose lead the way. It’s dark, so he can’t see too well, but coupled with his enhanced senses the dim light is enough. He gazes around what was once a cryogenics lab and locates two metal pods that are undamaged and seem to be occupied. He walks towards them quickly and knows he’s found his quarry as the scent becomes even stronger.

He uses one of his large hands to dust off the top of the first pod, then he does the same with the second. Oddly enough, there’s two of them down here, but he only picked up one scent. No matter; he’s found what he’s looking for. He grins, letting out an almost bestial laugh, as he realizes who exactly it is that he’s found.

“Well well, what do we got here?” he says as he looks over the two sleeping forms. “I think it’s time for you kiddies to come out and play…”

NEXT ISSUE: Let the games begin! As Jean Grey takes the stand in Washington D.C., Cyclops confronts Cassandra about her past and her true motives, and the X-Men prepare to take the next step in their quest for peace with humanity. However, none of that compares to the surprise conclusion, starting with a stunning betrayal and ending with the return of several villains from the X-Men’s past! It all leads into the first crossover with X-Men this September – and when all is said and done, nothing will ever be the same!

 

Authors

Titles