Rebirth/Renew

[CPaulLandri]

Before reading this please read my other Fic X-Men: Raising the Bar so you aren't too confused. Enjoy!


Another day, another dollar, the one known famously (or infamously, depending on the paper you read,) as the Amazing Spiderman thought as he glided gracefully through the crystal cold December air. That is, if I actually got paid for this. So I guess it’s really just another day. Man, I shoulda gotten into commercials or something. T.V. studios are warm. His webbing caught a flag pole and he swung higher in the air. It’s a good thing I’m wearing those ducky pajamas M.J. got me as an early Christmas gift. Although I’d hate it if someone tore my costume. I’d be the laughing stock of New York. I can see it now, The Amazing QuackerMan! Oye, I kill me, sometimes! He chuckled as he swung. For all of his griping and for all of his anxiety about walking that fine line between hero and vigilante nutcase, he truly felt free when he was on patrol. Granted, three in the morning was a lousy time to be awake, but that was the problem with criminals. They never managed to commit crimes when civilized people are out and about.

I guess the fact that it’s the coldest December on record has something to do with this dry spell. Jeez, a few degrees colder and I can hang up the Spidey suit for good. He heard the sirens in the distance and all of his joyful musings stopped like a machine shop in a blackout. Great, he thought, just when I was about to go home and have a cup of hot cocoa and some graham crackers. I haven’t eaten anything since that cup of yogurt at noon. He swung to the side of a building and clinged to it, looking for the cop car or fire truck or ambulance whose siren was blaring, telling the traffic to get the hell out of the way. When he saw the sirens of the cop cars he knew it would probably be big trouble.

Bank robbery. Ten to one shot, any takers? Who am I talking to? He shrugged and spun a webline and followed the speeding police car.

His stomach growled.

Not now, you! He was about to add something else to his weird interior monologue when he heard the explosion, he felt it seconds later.

“Ah, garbage cans!” he spat, clinging to the side of an old, brick building, “I guess I’ll just have to wait until Micky D’s serves breakfast. Gonna be a looooong day.” He looked around, “I gotta get a sidekick. People are going to think I’m crazy talking to myself.”

There was another explosion, this time closer than the previous blast. Spider-man looked down and caught a figure running down the street. Officrs were chasing the figure and firing their guns, hitting the person in the back. The person, whomever it was, did not fall.

“This looks like a job for…!” He quipped and spun a new web and glided from building to building. I gotta get in front of him, slow him down. He thought. He caught sight of the running figure who had taken several bullets but did not fall.
He’d gone into an alley.

Perfect.

It was your quintessential alley. A dead end with a dumpster and a few garbage cans and some trash strewn about to give it that nice, dark alley feel. It smelled like cat pee and rotten cabbage. That nice, dark alley smell. The figure was breathing heavily, grunting in what Spider-Man hoped was pain. If he was in pain, he’d be slower than if he was healthy, and that would make his job a lot easier.

The Amazing Spider-Man was not used to seeing half naked men in an alley, so he was grateful that when the man (although he couldn’t have been much older than Peter himself, maybe younger,) turned around, Peter was glad he was wearing pants (they were mere tatters, but hey, pants are pants.)

“RHAAARRRGHHH!” The man yelled. Peter didn’t flinch. He could tell the guy was in a lot of pain, but it had little to do with getting shot. For a moment he studied his would be adversary. His eyes glowed red and his hair, was brown on the right and left sides and bone white down the middle. He had more muscles than Sly Stallone In Rocky III and he looked very, very mad.

Peter felt pity for the creature standing before him, for some reason he knew there was a lot more to this than he would ever know.

“Nice name you got there, I’m Spider-Man.” Peter said, “I kinda have the feeling you caused a few explosions and I’d reeeaally like to help you.”

The guy/creature grunted, and Peter was thrown back by an invisible force. He landed hard on the sidewalk outside of the alley.

“Great!” he said, standing up, rubbing his shoulder, although it was more for effect than actual pain, “You’re a mutant, I bet. Jeez, why does it always have to be mutants? Or crazy super man scientists with death rays? Once, just once, I’d like Scarlet Johansen in a skin tight leather one piece and a whip to…My God I’ve got problems.” The Wall Crawler looked around to see if anyone was looking at him. Thankfully no one was.

The man/creature bellowed a wail of rage and pain and charged at Peter. Peter dodged the charge with ease.

“Look, buddy, I don’t want to fight you. Clearly you’re in some kind of pain. Maybe I can help you! You know like that mouse who pulled the thorn from the lion’s paw. You could grant me a wish! Like Scarlet Johansen in a skin tight leather one piece and a whip, there I go again with that! Jeez, don’t tell my wife I said that, ok?”

The man/creature held out his hand and peter was sent flying into the dumpster.
“Great, now I smell like New Jersey!” He shouted, indignantly. “He cast a web over the man/creature’s fists. “Look, maybe we can talk about this over a cup of coffee and a Krispy Kreme, all I had today was a cup of yogurt. I know I should eat more but I was rushed and…ZUNGH!” He was flung against a brick wall and hit it hard.

“Okay, a health nut, maybe. What do you say we get a falafel?” Again he was swung and hit the other side of the brick wall.

“Roy Rogers?” Swung again. Other side o’ the brick wall.

“White Castle?” Swung once more, but this time, back in the New Jersey smelling dumpster. The man/creature let out another mighty roar.


“AWWWWWWRIGHT!” Peter yelled. “A wise man once said, throw me in a dumpster once, shame on you, throw me in a dumpster twice, shame on me. Now maybe it’s the hunger talking, and it probably is because all I had to eat today was a cup of yogurt and I know I should be eating more, but when you do what I do time isn’t really on your side, but I’m really mad now!” He jumped out of the dumpster and engaged the man/creature, hitting him with a barrage of rights and lefts and a dizzying array of kicks that would put Jet Lee to shame. “Now Uncle Spidey wanted to play nice with you because you looked more like you were in trouble than malevolent, but I’m really, really hungry and want to get a dirty water dog before they start cleaning the water, thus making them just plain dogs!” He elbowed the man/creature in the face and this time, he fell hard to the ground.

“Poor guy.” Spider-Man said. He shook his head in pity, the man/creature was breathing in shallow bursts, but what bothered Peter the most was the sad, puppy-like whimpers that came with each exhale. It didn’t take a scientific genius like himself to see that someone had done this to the man lying at his feet.

“So much for White Castle.” Peter said, picking the man/creature up and slinging him over his shoulder. “I don’t know a whole lot about what I think happened to you, fella, but I know someone who does. You’re getting a free trip to the Baxter Building.”

 

[CPaulLandri]

Lichstein hated delivering news to his master. Even if it was good news he hated doing it. The master was always in a bad mood and even pleasing news didn’t make his gaze any less terrifying. Lichstein had both good news and bad news.

The bad news was very bad. The good news probably wouldn’t make up for it. He was sweating even though the chamber was cold. The master loved the cold and made sure everyone knew it. He waited in silence, biting the cuticle of his right index finger until it tore and bled. His blood was warn on his tongue, warm and salty. It tasted like copper.

“Enter.” The voice said, not his master’s voice but something similar. The English Oak door opened slowly and one of the master’s minions motioned for him to enter.

Lichstein was shaking as he saluted his master and waited for him to speak (you could not speak to the master unless you were spoken to. It was a law punishable by death.)

“Speak,” the master’s voice boomed in the chamber and echoed off the great, stone walls.

“Master, we have news from America. The weapon has escaped.”

The master said nothing, but Lichstein knew the smoldering fury behind his master’s eyes would become an inferno of rage if he kept his mouth shut for too long.

“The other experiments were liberated as well and we have reason to believe…”

”SILENCE!”

And there was silence throughout the chamber. Lichstein knew better.

”I should have never trusted that vermin Percival to undertake such a delicate matter. I should have never given him the funding for his experiments. I want my weapon.” The master rose from his throne, “Lichstein, I want you to contact Percival and tell him our arrangement is hereby dissolved.”

“He is dead sir, killed by your weapon.”

“Dead, eh? And what of my weapon? Where is it now?”

“Percival had put a tracking device in the weapon’s arm; he was heading north from the secret facility in South Carolina. We lost track of him two days ago.”

“How?” The master said, voice dripping with malice, “how did you lose my weapon?”

“We…are not sure, master. We have reason to suspect the weapon tore it out of himself.”

“I told Percival I wanted his mind erased completely! The moron! You say the other experiments were liberated? By who?”

Lichstein hesitated for a moment, “the X-Men sir.”

“Damn you, Charles Xavier!” the master bellowed, “he shall pay for this indignity.” The master paused, “do they suspect me in any way?”

“No, master, they do not.”

“Good.”

“There is good news, too, master. One of our spies on the New York Police force saw the weapon being carried off by the one called Spider-Man. So we know it’s in New York.”

There was a long silence before the master spoke, “find my weapon Lichstein. Bring him to me. He is mine by right, after all.”

”Yes, master. Will there be anything else?”

“Oh yes. When he arrives, let him kneel before DOOM!”

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Benjamin J. Grimm, formerly of Yancy Street in Brooklyn, sat in the living room watching the latest Ultimate Fighting Championship. It was a rerun of course, on channel seven thousand and sixty two, but at four in the morning it would suffice. Besides, Ben loved a good fight and since Boxing was boring and wrestling was rigged, this filled a void that was missing from his life.

It had been a while since Ben, also known around the world as The Thing, had given a crumb-bum a well deserved punch in the mouth. It had been a slow time for the Fantastic Four and he was happy about it. It gave him time to think and spend time with his most favorite nephew, Franklin.

It had also given him a serious bout of insomnia. Ben as a night person by nature, but even night owls needed their beauty sleep. This was the fifth night in a row the sandman hadn’t come. It didn’t bother him too much, but it made him want to punch the living daylights out of the High Definition television Reed had bought. Nearly eight thousand channels (thanks to the dish on the roof, compliments of that selfsame Dr. Richards. Stretch was good like that,) and nothing on at four A.M.

Ben sighed, he hated to admit it, but things were starting to get boring around here. He hated when he and his family had to put their lives on the line to save the universe, but, like the warrior he was, was truly happy when he was giving a bad guy the ole one-two.

The sound of the buzzer at the front door bought Ben out of his thoughts and back to reality. Who could that be at this hour?

He got up slowly, like a man who didn’t have to move for anyone and lumbered to the door, careful not to wake up the others as they slept. Ben had very heavy footfalls.

“Who is it?” he asked, his voice gravelly and thick with a Brooklyn accent.

“Pizza guy.” The voice on the other end said.

Ben shook his head. He knew that voice. He could feel a migraine coming on.
“Whaddaya want, web-head?” He asked, as he unlocked the door. Spiderman stood before him, carrying some unconscious yo-yo in his arms.

“I think you ordered the large with extra mutant.” The wall crawler said. Ben knew he was smirking under that stupid looking mask.

“You wanna see Reed, I’m guessing. Well, he ain’t here. Take your trash to the Avengers or somethin’.” Ben was about to close the door, but the annoying little arachnid walked in before he had a chance to.

“It’s four in the morning, Thing, I have a feeling Reed’s asleep.”

”Yeah, and I’m sure he’d like to stay dat way too, now get lost. Ting’s been quiet around here.”

Spider-Man cocked his head to one side, “you noticed that too, huh?”

“Who is dis bum?” Thing asked, “Why’d you bring him here?”

“Bum? Who are you, Burt Young?” Spider-man asked, “I don’t know who he is, but I have a feeling he’s a mutant and he’s either sick or in trouble. I tangled with him in an alley. He got shot.”

“He ain’t bleedin’.” Ben observed.

“Hmm, here, let me put him on the couch.” Ben was about to protest, but Spider-Man moved to quick. The mutant was on the couch before any words came from Ben’s mouth.

“Guy’s got more muscles than Stallone in Rocky Three.” Ben said, “someone did a lousy dye job on his hair, though.”

“Hey, you leave the jokes to me, okay?” Spider-Man said. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in waking up Dr. Richards for me, huh?”

“I don’t think that will be entirely necessary, Spider-Man.” Reed Richard’s, arguably the smartest man on the planet, said. “What do we have here?” the good doctor was wearing navy blue flannel pajamas. A 4 was stitched on the right breast pocket. He was wearing a lab coat.

”Where can I get a set of those P.J.’s?” Spider-Man asked.

“Gift shop, first floor.” Reed said. He took the mutant’s wrist and checked his pulse.

“Ah, you have a gift shop now.” Spider-Man said.

“Keeps us in butter brickle,” Ben said.

“You sure you’re not Burt Young?”

”Where did you find him?” Reed asked, he opened the mutant’s eyes to check his pupils and Spider-Man was amazed to find that his eyes were brown, not the glowing red like before.

“He was being chased by some cops. They shot him in the back. We tangled. He’s very strong. Telekinetic, I think.”

”I see. Ben, could you turn him over, please?” Reed asked. Ben did. “That’s strange. You say he was shot in the back?”

“Yes.”

“No wounds to speak of. Maybe he has a healing factor.” Reed scratched at his chin, “Why bring him here, Spider-Man, why not Beth Isreal?”

“I kinda got this feeling like maybe he might have been…I don’t know. Tampered with?”

“Experimented on, you mean?” Reed asked.

“I’m not sure, I just got this hunch. I get them every so often. This guy wasn’t running because he was guilty, he was running because he was scared.”

There was silence for a moment as Reed looked over the mutant, “Well, I could check him over. See if there is any indication of experimentation. I have a feeling you might be on to something, though.”

“You wants me to bring him to the lab, Stretch?” Ben asked.

“Please do, Ben. Thank you.”

Ben lifted the mutant up as if he weighed nothing at all and lumbered into the other room.

“You think he’ll be okay?” Spider-Man asked.

Reed shook his head, “I won’t know until I check him out. I wonder though.”

“About?”

“Whether or not this has something to do with that raid on that facility in Maine a few months ago. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

Peter did know, he worked for a newspaper, after all.

”I remember hearing about it. The mutant children being experimented on.” Just saying it out loud made Peter’s skin crawl and his (still rumbling) stomach turn sour. You had to be a real low piece of filth to experiment on kids.

”I wonder if this young man has anything to do with it.” Reed said, “I suppose we’ll find out when he wakes up.”

 

[CPaulLandri]

More later today.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Peter was always impressed when he entered Reed Richard’s laboratory in the heart of the Baxter Building. Many of the devices and heavy-duty equipment (hell, even the high definition television,) was built by Mister Fantastic. Ben stood by the table where the mutant now lay, strapped down with heavy duty restraints.

“I got him all set, Stretch.” Ben said, “You wants for me to stick around, in case he wakes up and goes bananas?”

“No, Ben. I plan on giving him a sedative,” Reed said, “However your input is greatly desired.” Reed smiled as he prepared a syringe.

“What for?” Ben said, Peter noted that it sounded like “whit fawh?”

“Well, judging just by the looks of him, he’s probably a class ten on the Xavier Scale of Mutation regarding strength. What are you? Eleven, twelve?”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t a mutant, Reed.” Ben said, “but I’m about a thirteen.”

“So instead of being able to bench press a mac truck, like you can, he can only lift a Chrysler?” Spider-Man said.

“Somethin’ like that, web head.”

“Spider-Man, would you hand me that device over there near the computer? The portable scanner.”

“Sure,” Spider-Man walked over to the computer and saw the device, no bigger than his hand. It had a screen and ten buttons. “This it?”

“Yes.” Reed said, Spider-man handed him the device. “Ben, turn on the overhead monitor. I’m going to do a full body scan.”

Ben turned on the monitor which projected an image from the small scanner (currently it was that of the mutant, who was now breathing steadily from the sedative,) onto a nearby panel.

Reed turned the scanner on and waved it over the mutant, capturing first an image of his body, then his muscle tissue, followed by his skeleton. Spider-Man marveled at how quickly the device could deliver a reading. The device completed with a scan of his molecular structure.

“Enhance DNA scan, point eight, two.” Reed said, and the monitor did as commanded. A helix appeared in the center of the room. “Enhance X-Factor gene.”

It was clear to both Peter and Reed what was wrong with their mutant.

”God.” Peter said, “It looks like that gene’s gone through a meat grinder and someone used duct tape to put it back together again.”

Indeed, the gene looked sickly. There were other bits of DNA attached to it, parts of which simply did not belong there and held by a series of trace proteins.

”This is just one gene, Spider-Man.” Reed said, “I have a terrible suspicion every gene in this poor man’s body has been manipulated.”

Ben cleared his throat, “How about you talk in English instead of that sciency mumbo-jumbo.”

“What I mean, Ben,” Reed began, “is that this mutant has had his entire DNA structure tampered with. They forced bits and pieces of other mutant DNA to bond with his, giving him different powers aside from his own.”

“And you think he was forced into it?” Ben said, “I mean, what exactly are you basing this off of, Stretch, the words of some nut ball who swings on webs and wears footie pajamas?”

“Well at least I don’t look like the love child of Mount Rushmore and the Grand Canyon.” Spider-Man said. He grinned under his mask.

“I suppose we’ll know that when he wakes up.”

“If he’ll know, that is. I mean, look at his hair.” Spider-Man said, “I think you might want to check his brain. Especially the hippocampus.”

“Good idea,” Reed said, “brain scan, hippocampus.” He said to the device. Judging by the looks of it, someone had been poking around in there.

”Damn. Reed said, “you were right. Wiped clean.”

“He probably doesn’t even know his own name.” Spider-Man said.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Reed said, “I’m going to keep him here for observation. I’m going to attempt to talk to him when he wakes up.”

“I have a feeling he wont want to talk, he’s pretty mad.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Ben said, “them restraints could hold down the Hulk.”

“I have a suspicion that we’re going to need some help.” Reed said, “I should call Xavier later this afternoon.”

“Good plan.” Spider-Man said, “I’ll come back when I can to see what you’ve come up with.”

“Very well.” Reed said, and stretched his hand out across the operating table. Spider-Man shook it and was left the room quickly.

“Now to see about something to eat,” he muttered.

Ben and Reed stood over the mutant for a while, Reed took some notes on a scrap of paper.

“Another charity case, huh buddy?” Ben asked.

“Ending human suffering has nothing to do with charity, old friend.” Reed said, not looking at Ben, but focusing on his notes.

“Not fer nothin’, Reed, but this guy ain’t human like you and me, he’s a mutant remember?” Ben said, “I ain’t sayin he’s bad or whatever, but just watch out. You heard what Spider-Man said. He isn’t gonna be in the mood to talk.”

“I have faith that once I call Xavier we’ll get to the very bottom of this.”

“That Xavier guy gives me the creeps.” Ben said, “I don’t like the idea of him being here.”

“Ben, I never knew you to be a homophobe.”

“Whoa, wait a second. Xavier is gay?” Ben asked, astonished.

“No. He’s a homo-superior. Does that bother you?”

“No, Reed. I ain’t no racist or nothing, I just…I don’t want him crawling around my noggin, that’s all.”

“I assure you, Charles Xavier wouldn’t do that.”

“I ain’t too sure. That’s a pretty big power he’s got.”

Reed said nothing to this. He was now completely engrossed in his work with a concentration only Zen monks could achieve. Ben knew that carrying on a conversation with him would be like talking to ten brick walls. He decided to go back into the living room and see what was on the tube.

 

[CPaulLandri]

She watched as the sun rose. It was cold in her bedroom, but she hardly noticed. She enjoyed the cold, always had. She sat in silence, soaking up the stillness of the room and the sunrise. Every now and then the whipping pre-winter wind would howl, breaking the silence. The sky was turning purple and soon it would leave its bruised color and emerge in pinkish hues which would eventually lead to a glorious blue.

There was a hard frost on the ground. Maybe there’d be snow soon.

This was the third week in a row where she barely slept, in fact, sleeping had quickly become one of those luxuries she could no longer afford. It hurt to sleep. Hurt to dream.

In her dreams he is alive and smiling, pouring a glass of beer.

In her dreams they are together, loving each other under a canopy of stars and city lights.

Sleep makes her heart hurt. Sleep makes her cry when she wakes up, so she forgoes it. It makes her sick and exhausted, but being sick is better than being sad. A sad dream is no dream at all.

His favorite were the sunsets, but he liked sunrises, too. It made her think so much of the times they had closed up at four a.m. and went onto the fire escape and watch the sun say hello to Hell’s Kitchen. If it was a brisk night he’d put his arm around her to keep her warm. At first he did it only because he knew she was cold, but after they loved each other, the gesture took on a much deeper meaning.

In her mind’s eye he smiled at her. Tears fell.

She wished she didn’t grieve, didn’t mourn him, but death is a hard thing to shake when you’ve seen (his mouth is filled with blood. So much salty, red, blood he almost chokes. Some dribbles over and onto the floor in a gooey mess. His poor lung has a hole in it.)
up close.

She wishes and she wishes, but wishes are for children and she is not a child. Not even her child’s wishes can bring him back. The thought makes her heart hurt even more.

She yawns, but refuses to sleep, lest she dream of him.

Leave me in peace, you old specter, she thinks, you poltergeist, knock, knocking in my head and spoiling my dreams with your smile. She rubs her eyes, which are bloodshot from lack of sleep and crying. She barely leaves her room anymore. Her friends worry about her but don’t visit, which is good because she wouldn’t see them anyway.

She think sometimes of running away from here. Leaving the baby and just running. Sometimes she thinks of killing herself, but she laughs at this notion. She can’t be killed.

Sometimes that irony hurts more than his death.

The bruised purple sky bids its farewell and the golden sun flutters into the horizon like a pleasant dream, coating the world around her window in a glow almost magical. There is promise in that glow, a Midas touch to the world. A chance to start over again.

She wishes she could smile, but it hurts her heart too much. The ache is that deep. Sometimes it hurts her chest. She keeps her face even despite the tears.

The room grows colder (or maybe it’s just her soul, she doesn’t really know,) and she finally decides to stand and check on her child. She goes over to the crib and sees how much she’s grown.

The pain stabs at her once more. She doesn’t like to look at her baby now. She looks just like him. His soft eyes stare back at her; sometimes she sees his smile in her baby’s. It breaks her heart to know her daughter will never know her father. Will never give her away at her wedding, will never argue with her about her manner of dress, will never disapprove of her taste in men. He would have spoiled her, sure. She would have had to play the bad guy most of the times, but she was prepared for that. A father should spoil his daughter if he can.

He would have been a great father.

Oh, but the good die young, silly girl. They get mowed down or get the nastiest diseases or hit by a bus on their way to work. The bad ones go on living forever and ever and ever, world without end, Amen. She thinks, bitterly. She looks at her sleeping child until the pain and grief are too much to bear and she goes back to sit and watch the sun make it’s promises of a new day.

And so it is for Freebird. Every day since her Paul was taken from her.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

He was expecting the call. He knew the phone would ring at seven thirty in the morning on a Friday. He knew who would be calling and what they would be calling about. He even knew what words would be exchanged and what decisions would be made, but still, Charles Xavier looked impatiently at his watch. Sometimes it was frustrating, knowing that someone was going to call or show up early for an appointment. It made for a great deal of waiting, and, though a patient man, Charles wished Dr. Richard’s would call already so he could go to the Baxter Building to assist him.

The hand on his watch moved to seven thirty. The phone rang. He let it ring twice.

“Charles Xavier,” he said.

“Professor, this is Reed Richards.”

“Dr. Richards, a pleasure as always, what can I do for you?” He did his best to sound jovial, but the anticipation of getting down to the Baxter Building was beginning to grate on his nerves.

“I’m afraid we’ve got a mutant here. No I.D., evidence of genetic tampering. I suggest you come down here as soon as you can. I fear his mind may have been wiped.”

He paused, more for effect than anything else, “I shall leave within the hour.”

“I look forward to working with you.” Reed said.

“And I, you.” Xavier said, and hung up. Professor Xaiver sighed. “Time to come home, Paul.”

*

There wasn’t much left of the wreckage. Whoever had been there had destroyed the place pretty good, but the scent was still strong and that made Logan very happy.

“Certainly whoever was in here made sure these devices were completely laid to waste,” Henry McCoy said, “I certainly hope we can find our wayward Doctor and bring him to justice.”

“Looks like someone already took care of that.” Logan said, his lip curled into a sneer. Someone had beaten him to it.

He’d obviously been there for a while. The flesh was turning and the blood was sticky and black. His heart lay near his face. Something had decided to pick at it.

“My stars and garters,” Henry said, putting his hand over his nose, “You don’t suppose…”

“I do suppose.” Logan said, “and I don’t like it one bit.”

“How could they have done it so quickly?” McCoy said. He was really asking himself the question, not Logan.

“Beats me, you’re the genius.”

Logan picked through the wreckage of the lab. The place had been deserted for a while now, but the scent was very strong. He sniffed the ground near the rotting corpse of Doctor Percival.

“I think I got him.” Logan said. He walked into the corridor leading to the lab and saw the urine stain on the wall. “Kid marked his territory.”

“Why do you suppose he’d do something like that?” McCoy asked.

“Cuz he ain’t human no more, Hank.” Logan said. He squinted, and in a flash of anger punched the wall. It left a dent. “Goddam it!”

“Logan!” McCoy exclaimed, “your anger notwithstanding, I really think we should…”

“Ah, don’t you see, furball? Don’t you get it? This is the same s@#t they did to me!” Logan stood up and faced McCoy, “we let the kid down, you know.”

“Which is why we have to find him. If he’s out there we’ve got to bring him back to the mansion and see what we can do for him.”

“Too late for that, Hank. I’ve been there before. Once they get you, that’s all there is to it. You don’t change back.” Logan kicked a piece of broken equipment, it skidded over to Hank.

“Logan, look.” He said, bending down to pick up the fragment, it looked like some kind of computer module. “Now this is interesting.”

“What?” Logan said.

“Made in Latveria.” McCoy said.

“Latveria? You don’t think…”

“We’ll have to check the other pieces of equipment, but I’m afraid the outcome might be the same.”

They picked apart the entire place and sure enough, Latveria was written all over each piece they found.

“We’ve got to call Charles,” McCoy said, “I think this goes way deeper than we had previously guessed.

 

[Exploding Boy]

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[CPaulLandri]

The Sensational Spider-Man snored loudly on the couch in his apartment. A to-be-continued sandwich (which, by the looks of it, utilized every single cold cut and piece of cheese they had in their fridge,) and an unopened bottle of Dr. Pepper sat on the coffee table. Mary Jane shook her head. Her poor husband and his late nights. It was seven thirty in the morning and Peter had probably just gotten in. He was still dressed in his costume, right down to the mask. She leaned over and pulled the mask off.

“Don’t do it, Ock! Not the face!” Peter exclaimed, “oh, Mary Jane, thank God.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Why don’t you go to bed, Peter?” She asked. “You look so tired.”

“Late night.” His stomach grumbled, “Ah, there you are, sandwich.” He leaned over and took a tremendous bite from it, “ah hink I ned a zowah.”

Mary Jane looked at her husband incredulously, “What?”

Peter swallowed the bite of sandwich, “I think I need a shower.”

MJ scrunched her nose, “I think you do, too, Pete. Your stinky sense is tingling.”

“One o’ these days, Alice…” he said, shaking his fist. “God, what a weird night.”

“What happened? Judging by the looks of you, you didn’t get too banged up.” She sat down next to him. He chugged the Dr. Pepper.

“There was a mutant, and I had to fight him but I had this feeling like maybe the reason he was fighting me was because he was scared. He didn’t seem…well…normal, I guess?” He took another bite of his sandwich,

“What do you mean?” MJ asked, sometimes she had a hard time understanding what her husband had to deal with every night, usually it was just burglars or bank robbers, but sometimes it was mutants, and crazy people who wanted to hurt him just for the sake of hurting him.

“I took him to Doctor Richards in the Baxter Building. He thinks there’s a connection to this particular mutant and that genetic research going on in Maine. Remember? They were experimenting on the mutant babies?” Peter shuddered a little and MJ put her hand on his shoulder.

“I remember that. Sickos.” She shook her head. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just…you hate to see that, you know? It makes me wish I could be everywhere. Stop that kinda stuff from happening. Reed said the guy’s mind was completely wiped out. Wouldn’t even know his own name or anything. They had spliced all kinds of mutant DNA to his own. The guy was a mess.” He took another bite from his sandwich and chewed quickly, “I have to go back there later and see what Dr. Richards has come up with.” He paused, “Why do people keep doing this stuff, MJ? What’s wrong with them?”

His question startled her. Maybe because it was coming from him, or maybe it was because she simply didn’t have an answer for him. She wished she did.

“I don’t know, Peter.” She said, “I just don’t know.”

Peter looked at his sandwich and decided he wasn’t hungry any more, “I think I’m going to take a shower and pass out for a while. I have to be at the Bugle at four for a meeting.”

“Okay, I’ll be home late tonight. Big shoot over at the Waldorf.”

“Break some hearts for me, will ya?” Peter said, “And hey, MJ.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” He smiled.

“I love you, too.”

He walked into the bathroom and undressed. He turned the shower on and looked in the mirror. His chest had some nice bruises on it, but they would heal quickly. He yawned, thinking about the mutant from earlier this morning. No memory of anything. God. Suddenly he felt very angry. What if the guy had a wife and kids? What if he had friends who missed him? How would he even know? Why do people keep doing this stuff? He wondered, Uncle Ben, why do they keep it up? Peter often found himself asking his departed uncle for help several years after his untimely death, often when Peter felt angry. I guess they can’t all be good folks like you were, huh?

He picked up a bar of soap and stepped into the shower.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

It didn’t take long for Xavier to arrive at the Baxter Building. The jet landed on the roof and he was me by Johnny Storm, better known throughout the world as the Human Torch. Dr. Jean Grey accompanied Xavier.

“Good to see you, Professor,” Johnny said, “Reed’s waiting in the lab. Dr. Grey.” He smiled at them and led them to the elevator which would bring them to the lab.

“I hope you can help this guy, Reed’s been up since four thirty trying to see if he can fix his brain. Says his mind is completely gone.”

“We will do our best, John.” Xavier said, he smiled.
“How bad is it?” Jean asked.

“I don’t know. Getting a straight answer out of Reed when he’s working is like asking a tree for the time of day. Looks pretty bad if you ask me, but I’m not science guy.” Johnny looked at them and hoped they weren’t reading his thoughts, especially Dr. Gray.

Nothing to worry about, Mister Storm. We’ll only read your mind if you ask.

His eyes widened, Dr. Grey smiled at him. His face turned red.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. “Right…this way.” Johnny said. Dr. Grey winked at him.

“Nice one, Johnny. Good thing Ben wasn’t around to see that.” He walked out of the elevator and was surprised to hear screaming.

“Reed?” He said, jogging into the lab. “Reed are you…?”

The mutant was awake, and he wasn’t happy. He roared like a caged animal. It chilled Johnny’s spine.

“We’re fine, Johnny.” Reed said, “The restraints have him.”

“Thank God.” Johnny said, “I’ll stand over here just in case.”

“As you can see, the tampering has affected his emotional state.” Reed said, “I was hoping you might be able to calm him down enough to make him coherent.”

“Yes, I believe I can do that.” Xavier said, he wheeled himself over to Paul’s head and placed his hand on Paul’s temples.

The screaming stopped. Now he only breathed heavily.

“His name is Paul Cammereri. He was once a pupil of mine. He and his friend Freebird had a child together but the child was taken from them, sent to Maine for genetic experimentation. When they went to retrieve her, Paul was shot. We assumed he was killed, but apparently such was not the case.” Xavier frowned. “I have calmed him down, but I cannot reach his hippocampus.”

“What do you mean?” Reed asked.

“There’s something blocking me.”

Reed scratched his chin, “I think I know what it is.”

“Enlighten me, Doctor.”
“I took a scan of his DNA. There are many different strands held together by trace proteins. I have a feeling you can’t get to him because one of those strands in a psychic inhibitor.”

“That makes sense.” Xavier said, “It will make things very difficult, but I remain confident we will get to the bottom of this. Nothing is hopeless.” He closed his eyes and pressed deeper into Paul’s mind. The more he pressed, the harder he was repulsed.

Paul grunted in pain.

“Jean, I don’t like this one bit.” Xavier said, “When I try to get through it only hurts him.”

“Perhaps sedate him?”

“No, I don’t think it will help.”

Reed frowned, “if we had the equipment they used on him, we might be able to reverse the process. I might even be able to replicate some of it if I had more data.”

“That does seem like the easiest way, but I received a call on my way over here from my X-Men who had been searching for the one who did this to him in the first place. All of the equipment has been destroyed.”

“Damn.” Reed said, “not even one piece of equipment in tact?”

“Paul destroyed everything before killing Doctor Percival.” Xaiver said. It hurt him to say the last part. They turned him into a killer against his will. Poor boy.

“I see.” Reed said.

“However, Logan and Hank did find out some information. All of the equipment used in this nasty experiment was made in Latveria.”

“Doom.” Reed said. His heart sank.

“Yes.”

”But why would Dr. Doom want to experiment on mutants?” Jean asked.

“Because he wants a weapon, that’s why.” Reed said, “Doom is paranoid, always has been. When he took over Latveria he was afraid of attacks from inside his kingdom and outside as well. Doom will do anything to keep his people in line and show the world he isn’t afraid of them.”

“So he hired a rogue geneticist and financed his research.” Xavier said, “bastard.” He muttered under his breath. “Jean, inform the other X-Men of this. I think they should know.”

“What about Freebird?” She asked.

“Her too.”

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

It had been a good night and she was glad they were alone. The night before had been amazing. The stars, the sound of traffic passing by. She was putting up the chairs while he shut off the lights. Muddy Waters played on the jukebox. She had gotten him into the Blues and since then, it was all he listened to when they closed.

“Good night tonight,” He said. “Place was hopping.”

“Yeah, I think the PBR is tapped out.” She said, “Might have to head down to the cellar before we lock up.” She looked at him and wanted him again. Would have him tonight if he let her. He was good. The best she’d ever had (not that there had been many back in Colorado, boys mostly, but he was, despite only being a few years older, a man. He had the mind of a man, and the body of one too. She had never realized it until last night.)

Rock me baby. Rock me alllll night long.

“Nah, I’ll get it in the morning.” He said, “I’ve been practicing lifting the kegs with my mind. I almost got it.”

She smiled, “good.” She put up the last chair and went behind the bar and got the broom.

I want you to rock me. Like my back ain’t got no bone.

“Remind me to order the fight tomorrow on Pay-Per-View. I hear it’s going to be a big deal. Lotsa guys wanna see it.” He said, He walked over to the bar and took two dirty glasses and put them in the bus tray over by the kitchen door. She watched him do this and realized her face was hot. She looked down at the floor and kept sweeping.

They hadn’t spoken about what happened yet, and they probably would. She hoped he would want her again. Normally she didn’t think this way, but the night before was…God, it was magical. Maybe it was the spontaneity of it, or maybe because of the emotion behind it, but it was something she wanted to experience again. He was gentle yet strong, and knew exactly what to do.

Sun going doooooown. Then begin to rise…

He walked over to her, humming the tune. She couldn’t look him in the eye so she stared at the floor.

“I think that spot is pretty clean.” He said with his easygoing voice. She looked up, her face hot and bright red.

“You okay?” he asked. She was sure he was going to say something else, but in a flash she was kissing him, feeling every inch of him and wanting more.

I want you to rock me. Till you make me satisfied.

She awoke in tears. She had dosed off. She wiped her eyes and her nose on her arm. The sun was shining brightly overhead. A few students were out braving the cold. She’d been asleep for about an hour. She hated herself for the dream. Although it was, in reality, more a memory than anything else. She stood up and went to check on Sam. She was still sleeping.

“I’m a f*&king mess.” She whispered.

Someone knocked three times. She wiped her eyes and gave herself a quick look in the mirror. She looked horrible, but at this point, she didn’t care much.

It was Kurt.

“Guten Morgen,” he said with a slight bow, “I’ve come to check on you, Freebird. Ve are all vorried about you.”

“Kurt, I’m okay. Really, I am.”

“You know, I’m a priest. I can tell ven people are lying to me.” He smiled, “I haven’t seen much of you since Paul…” he cleared his throat. “I zink maybe you should sit, Freebird.”

She looked puzzled, but did as Kurt said. She sat on the chair near the window, Kurt sat across from her.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Freebird. Paul is alive.”

The silence in the air was almost tangible. Freebird felt her heart beating loudly in her chest.

“…What? Kurt, don’t lie to me.”

”I’m telling you the truth.”

”Don’t LIE TO ME!” She screamed. Sam began to cry. So did she.

Kurt embraced her, she held on tight. “Listen. He is alive, but…not himself. Xavier is wis him now. There is more, a lot more.” He whispered this in her ear, “He needs you. So ve go him. Ve are his family after all.”

“Where is he?” She asked between sobs, “Where did they take him?”

“The Baxter Building.” Kurt said, “Ve go whenever you are ready.”

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Freebird held Sam in her arms as they drove. She didn’t feel right leaving her with Kitty or Jubilee. She hadn’t spoken to them in weeks, and felt awkward. Sam was good in the car, though. She slept most of the way there.

“I can’t believe it, Kurt.” She said. It was the first thing she had said the entire trip.

“The lord vorks in mysterious vays, child.” Kurt said, “There vill be considerable vork to do from what Charles tells me.”

“I don’t care how much work or how hard. We’ll help him.” Freebird said, gritting her teeth. “He helped me out so much when I came to New York, I owe him that much.”

“Yah. Ve do vat ve can for za people ve love za most.” Kurt looked over at her and Sam. He smiled. “How is baby Sam?”

She smiled. It was the first genuine smile in a long time. It felt funny. “She’s angelic as always, Kurt.”

“She’ll be a fine daughter, I know it.” He said, “And once ve get Paul back, everything vill be fine.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Freebird asked, worry laced the question, “I mean, yes, it will be hard, but do you think we’ll get him back to normal. Completely normal?”

“Hmm.” Kurt said, “I suppose that depends a lot on vat za Professor can do and how far you are villing to go to help him. And, since I’ve gotten to know you so vell, I think, in my own opinion of the situation, Paul will be himself again soon.”

“I’m glad you’re optimistic.” She said.

“You are not?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” She looked down at her daughter. She slept peacefully in her arms, “She has his eyes, and when she grows up, she’ll have his smile.”

“Zat is a good thing, no?”

“It is. She’ll break a lot of hearts.” She smiled at Kurt, “I hope she’s more like him than me.”

“Vy do you say zat? You are a wonderful person.”

She sighed, “I’m weak, Kurt. Honest to God, I’m weak.”

Kurt looked at her, “Is zere something you vant to tell me?”

“Only if you promise not to say anything to anyone.”

Kurt chuckled, “I can’t say anything. I’m a priest. Vat you tell me is between you, me, and Almighty God.”

“Past few weeks, I thought maybe it’d be better for me to be dead, you know? And I thought of ways to kill myself. But I can’t be harmed. Nothing I could try would hurt me, let alone kill me.” She looked out the window, “are having those thoughts bad? Do they make me a bad person?”

“You are in pain, my child. Sometimes the mind makes you think terrible things.” He made the sign of the cross, “I give you absolution.”

“Thanks, but that’s not the worst of it.” Freebird said, “When I realized killing myself wouldn’t work, I thought about running. Going back to Hell’s Kitchen. I would leave Sam at the school and just…I don’t know. Go. God, there was a time when I stopped looking at her.” She shook her head, “I’m a real piece of garbage, huh?”

“No. You are a human being, and by nature you are complicated and emotional, just like za rest of us. But I know you vould never leave your baby. Right now, she is za only link you have to a life you knew. You love her and you vould never leave. Are you a bad person? No. I’d bet my collar on it.” He made the sign of the cross and offered her absolution. She was not a religious person, but she felt much better telling Kurt these feelings of hers. Sam started to cry a little and it was clear she needed a diaper change.

“Good thing ve are two blocks avay, it could haven been a very dire situation.”

 

[CPaulLandri]

more soon.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Sue Storm-Richards met them on the first floor of the Baxter Building. Freebird was a little apprehensive with all the people coming in and going out of the place. Since the incident with the Sentinel nearly a year ago, which enacted her secondary mutation and made her completely impervious to injury and disease, she had developed an anxiety with large crowds. People were looking at them, Kurt mostly, and when Sue came up to them the fuzzy blue priest smiled.

“Hello, Mrs. Richards. It is always nice to see you.” Kurt said, putting out his hand. Sue shook it.

“I wish it were under different circumstances, Mister Wagner.”

“Kurt. Or, father if you are so inclined.” He smiled, “This is Freebird, and this is her daughter, Sam.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Freebird said lowly, “I hate to rush things, but she needs to be changed.”

Sue smiled, “Of course, come with me. My husband and Professor Xavier are waiting for you.” She led them to the main elevator and pushed the button for the top floor. Sam was beginning to squirm and cry a little.

“Ms…I’m sorry what would you like me to call you?” Sue asked.

“It’s just Freebird, Mrs. Richards.” She said, smiling shyly.

“Okay. Professor Xavier asked if it would be alright if I watched your baby while he spoke to you about your friend Paul’s condition.”

Freebird looked uncertainly at Kurt. Kurt nodded.

“Yes, I suppose you could.” She said.

“We’ll only be in the room next to my husband’s lab.” Sue said. “I can change her if you’d like.”

“Okay.” The elevator stopped at the very top floor and opened slowly.

“Here we are. Home.” Sue said, She led them into the living room (which they entered from the elevator,) and Freebird was astounded by the size of the place.

“It looks like a warehouse.” She said, looking at Sam, “I’ve heard stories and read about this place in the Bugle, but I never thought I’d actually be inside the Baxter Building.”

“My husband and I own the building. I think it’s a bit too sciency for my taste.” She smiled, “The lab is straight through here. Please pardon the mess, the children tend not to pick up after themselves.”

“You have kids?” Freebird asked.

“Just a son, Franklin. But he’s very neat. I meant my brother and my husband’s best friend.”

Kurt chuckled.

“I guess I’ll leave her with you, then?” Freebird asked.

“Yes.”

Freebird put Sam in Sue’s arms and gave her the diaper bag. She and Kurt walked down the corridor connecting the living room and Reed’s laboratory. “I suppose I’d better brace myself.” Freebird said.

“I vould if I vere you.” Kurt replied.

She took a few very deep breaths, counted to twenty and knocked on the door. It slid open. Her heart beat like a jackhammer in her chest.

She saw Charles Xavier sitting, as always, in his wheelchair. His index and middle fingers rested gently on Paul’s temples. A man, who Freebird assumed was Dr. Richard’s scribbled notes on a pad of paper while looking at an x-ray.

All of this she saw, but it was the sight of Paul that made her wince. He looked nothing like the man she knew. He was bigger, more muscular, like those guys you see on T.V. who can pull trailers with their teeth, or the ‘roided up body builders you see in fitness magazines. His hair was bone white in the middle and he looked very, very pale. His breathing was shallow and raspy. For a moment she wondered if this was really him. Was it a mistake? It had to be. Paul didn’t look like this.

She took a step forward, her hand on her mouth in horror.

“What have they done?” She whispered, “oh Paul, baby, what have they done to you?” Her eyes welled with tears and they fell to the ground. Kurt put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t realize it then, but she was shaking.

“He has been the victim of a serious genetic atrocity.” Xavier said in a monotone, “so far we’ve been unable to find any trace of his long term memory. He is sedated now.”

“Where did you find him, Professor?” Freebird asked, her voice nearly choked by her grief and shock.

“I would ask the man who saved him. He is about to walk through the door.”

She looked behind her and the door opened. A man wearing blue and red entered.

“How is he, Doctor Richards?” He asked. To Freebird he sounded young. Maybe only a little bit older than Paul.

“You.” She said. He stopped, “You found him?”

“Uhm. Yeah, I did. He was being chased by the police. I bought him here.” The man shrugged, “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I know who you are.” Freebird said. “You saved him?”

“Well…technically I…I mean he was running and….”

“You saved him.” She said as if making up her mind. She walked over to him and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, “I always knew what they wrote about you were lies.”

Under his mask, Peter Parker smiled.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

“I’m afraid, Freebird, that Paul is very sick.” Professor Xavier said, “So far my attempts to get past his mental blocks have proven most ineffective.” He frowned as he spoke. Freebird was now sitting at Paul’s side. He was still sedated. She stroked his hair.

“But you’ll help him, right? You’ll fix him?” She asked.

“I will do my best. It isn’t going to be easy.”

“Who would do this?” Freebird asked, she looked at the people gathered in the room. Dr. Richards, Spider-Man, Xavier, Kurt, and Dr. Grey. None of them spoke for a moment. Reed cleared his throat.

“I suppose I should be the one to tell you since I know him personally. Thanks to Dr. McCoy and Logan’s investigative research, we’ve traced all of the equipment used to turn Paul into what you see before you back to Latveria.” He paused, then continued, “Latveria is a very small country in Eastern Europe. It is ruled by a man named Victor Von Doom.”

For a moment Freebird looked puzzled, “I know who that is. I saw him once on CNN. He did this?”

“I have reason to suspect,” Dr. Richards said, “he hired Dr. Percival to kidnap those mutant children and perform those genetic experiments. He was looking to create a weapon, maybe even an army, completely loyal to Doom.”
“God.” Freebird said.

“There is a bright side to all of this, believe it or not.” Reed said, “The experiment wasn’t fully completed. His mind is completely blank.”

“How is that a bright side?” Freebird asked.

“If I may, Doc?” Spider-Man said, “I think what Dr. Richards is trying to say is that because Doom wanted someone completely loyal to him, this Percival guy had to wipe your boyfriend’s mind clean and reeducate him in order to become subservient.” He turned to Reed, “did I hit the mark?”

“Like William Tell.” Reed said.

“Thanks.” Spider-Man turned to Freebird, “I’m a science nerd.”

“I noticed.” Freebird said, half smiling.

“This,” Xaiver said, “Leads me to believe I can break into his long term memory, but the problem is The strains of mutant DNA attatched to his own are disallowing me to make any progress.”

“What do you mean?” Freebird asked.

“What Professor Xavier means is,” Jean Grey said, “Is that the different DNA is causing a reaction to whatever mutant ability it feels is threatening the host.”

“You lost me.”

“Allow me.” Spider-Man chirped, “basically there are several different strands of DNA attached to his own. These DNA strands release their own X-Factor which, when threatened by someone like me, allows his body to adapt to what I can do which is whatever a spider can…do.”

It suddenly dawned on her that these science people really enjoyed making things complicated. “So basically he can hurt me.”

“What do you mean?” Reed asked.

“If he were to wake up right now, those strands of DNA would help him figure out a weakness in me and he’d be able to harm me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Reed said.

“Freebird’s mutant ability is complete indestructibility.” Xavier said, “judging by what we’ve seen, it is entirely possible.”
She sighed deeply, “great.” She looked at Xavier, “so what do we do?”

“For now, nothing.” Xavier said, “We’ve got to run more tests to see how he’ll respond to my prodding.”

“God damn it!” She cried, “there has to be something else we can do! Look at him, Professor. Don’t we owe him that much? To do more?”

“Of course, Freebird, but this is not going to be easy.”

Freebird was about to retort, but the explosions which shook the room and shattered every window on the top floor of the Baxter Building made it impossible.

 

[Exploding Boy]

Way to leave us with a cliffhanger

 

[CPaulLandri]

To confound and entertain, to confound and entertain. More later.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

The summer rain poured heavily and every now and then thunder would rumble over the din of the traffic outside. It had been a relatively slow night, and that was fine. The morning sickness had developed into an all out sickness and she was glad there wasn’t much to do. Paul had told her to rest, but it wasn’t like she was that pregnant. She had told him she wanted to work despite feeling so ill. Paul protested, but it was only the half hearted protest of a man who knew he’d never convince her otherwise. She had always been hard headed about these things and she liked it that way.

Paul locked the door for the night. The Gin Blossoms played on the juke. It was one of his guilty pleasures and it pleased her. She liked the band, too.

Tell me do you think I’d be all right, if I could just crash here tonight.

He turned from the door and faced her, a lopsided grin on his face. He had just had an idea. She could always tell when he had ideas because of that grin. It was charming and cute.

“Marry me.” He said.

She raised her eyebrow, “what?” She asked, incredulously.

“We should get married. You and me.”

She chuckled a little, “Paul…”

“No, I’m serious!” he said, the smile never leaving his face, he was a man on a mission and she knew it, “we’re having a baby, we should get married. It’s a little backward I know, but we should, I dunno, make it official.” He walked over to her and grabbed her hands in his.

“Paul, we don’t have to get married.” She said. His smile didn’t wane.
“I know we don’t have to. I want to.”
She heaved a sigh. “Paul, look. I don’t think I’m ready for it.” She let go of his hands and walked over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. “I don’t want to give you a bulls**t excuse like I love you, but I’m not in love with you, because that isn’t true, but at the same time, I’m not ready to take the plunge.”

Paul’s smile faded, “one disaster at a time, huh?” the disappointment in his voice hung in the air like a hummingbird. He sighed. It was a heavy, I’m-an-idiot, sigh. He thrust his hands in his pocket and walked past her, went behind the bar and into the kitchen.

You know it might not be that bad, you were the best I ever had. If I hadn’t blown the whole thing years ago, I might not be alone.

She followed him into the kitchen, which was small for the space the bar occupied. He was over by the ovens, rubbing his temples.

“I’m sorry.” He said, “that was dumb of me.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, “no, it wasn’t dumb.”

”It was dumb. I forget sometimes that you’re not supposed to be tied down.”

He looked at her and she half smiled, “I’m just not ready yet. I mean, is it really what you want?”

“I don’t know. I guess.” He said, but she knew right away it was exactly what he wanted. More than anything.

She felt guilty then, a cold, gray feeling in her stomach. It hurt. She wished then and there that she could say yes to him, but she knew it would have been a mistake. She wouldn’t have meant it, and it would only hurt him in the end.

“I do love you, though.” She said, it sounded trite and insensitive, like a consolation prize.

He smiled a little, “I know.”

She awoke in a fog of sleepiness. She hadn’t any idea how she had fallen asleep. The last thing she remembered was a loud bang and then nothing save for the dream. She was on the floor of Dr. Richard’s laboratory. She saw the others slowly waking up as well.

“What happened,” she asked. She was groggy but other than that, felt fine. She stood up and saw that Paul had vanished.

Her heart turned to ice.

“…no.” She whispered.
“Is everyone alright?” Dr. Richards asked, he sprang to his feet and saw the empty table, “oh no.”

“He’s gone,” Freebird said, “he escaped.”

“No, someone took him,” Spider-Man said, “and they left a clue.” He picked up a small piece of green cloth.

“Doombots.” Xavier said, “They’ve taken Paul to Latveria.”

“We’ve got to find him, Professor.” Freebird said, urgently, “Please, we’ve got to go there and bring him back.”

“Yes.” Xavier said, “We shall, right away.” He turned his wheelchair to Dr. Richards, “Reed, I’m going to have to ask you to upload everything you can about Latveria into my plane’s computer.”

“Consider it done,” Reed said, he immediately began typing on his keyboard, which was across the room.

“I think, Jean, you should call the other X-Men and have them meet us here. We’ll have to leave quickly. We’ve been asleep for nearly three hours.”

“If you guys are going,” Spider-Man said, “I’m going to.”

Suddenly the door opened and Sue, Johnny, and Ben appeared. Ben was holding baby Sam.

“You’s guys okay?” he asked. “Damage to the winders was minimal, but we got knocked out cold fer shoah.”

“We’re fine, Ben. How’s the baby?” Reed asked.

“Right as rain, cute little thing.”

“It was Doom.” Reed said.

“I ain’t surprised,” Ben replied, “I suppose now we gotsta go over dere and bash some heads in?”

“And that’s putting it lightly,” Spider-Man said.

“I think,” Reed said, “this warrants a call over to SHEILD. If we’re going to be invading Latveria for a rescue mission, we might need to get through some red tape.”

“Never mind that,” Johnny said, “Call the Avengers.”

 

[CPaulLandri]

More tomorrow. Big post before Christmas, hopefully.

 

[CPaulLandri]

too drunk to write last night. will be too drunk to write tonight. Merry Christmas everyone. More tomorrow when things go back to normal.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Tony Stark, billionaire, self proclaimed God’s gift to women, industrialist, and on several occasions, the Invincible Iron Man, was bored. The mansion was empty except for himself and that was a bad thing. Bad because whenever Tony Stark was alone it meant that he was bored and when he was bored, he drank.

Actually, he drank, paced the length of the mansion, and talked to himself.

With a bottle of Grey Goose in his hand (he decided to forego the glass because he was the only Avenger in the mansion. Good manners could take a back seat when you’re the only one home,) he slowly paced the hallways and corridors, talking out loud to whatever inanimate objects that would enjoy the honor of hearing his voice.

“I am so bored, houseplant.” He said to a fichus. “Why the hell did Steve have to go to Brooklyn today. I hope he picks me up that L&B pizza like I asked him to.”

The fichus said nothing.

Tony took a swig from the large bottle of vodka and, looking to his right, and then to the left, poured a little on the plant.

“For your troubles.” He said, and laughed.

He looked down at his watch and frowned. It wasn’t even noon yet and his date with Scarlet Johanssen wasn’t until ten P.M. Before he left for Texas, Clint had asked him if her husband, Ryan Reynolds, knew about the meeting.

“Clint, the fact that the little lady has a husband is not my problem.” Tony had said, “besides, if she really liked him she wouldn’t be going to El Parador with me.”

He took another long pull from the bottle when the communication device on the far side of the hallway blared.

The sound startled Tony and he immediately ran towards the device. At last, something to reduce his boredom. The device flashed the words “incoming call” at him. He pressed the receive button and was pleasantly surprised to see Reed Richards on the other end.

“Reed! Good morning!” he said.

Reed looked somber, which was good, because it meant trouble, and trouble meant action, and action meant an end to boredom. Tony was glad.

“Hello Tony, I hope I’m not bothering you.” Reed said.
“No, sir. Just having a little lunch.” He showed Reed the bottle and gave it a shake. “What can I do for you?”

Reed sighed, “we have a situation.”

“Sounds sexy. Tell me about it. Spare no details, you brilliant man, you.” Tony drank the rest of the vodka while Reed explained the situation and how they’d need the Avenger’s assistance in getting into Latveria undetected.

“I think we can help you out, Reed. I’ll have to call Cap and tell him to get everyone assembled. Thor probably won’t be coming. I think he’s still in Asgard.”

“He’s still sorting out that whole mess, huh?” Reed asked.

“Loki really did a number up there.” Tony said.

“We could have used him.” Reed said, then, after a pause, added, “What about Banner?”

“Bruce? No one’s seen hide nor hair of Bruce Banner in weeks. Last I heard he was in the Midwest. I could try and contact him through Betty, but I don’t think she knows where he is.”

“Damn.” Reed said, “Banner would have been perfect. No one knows more about genetics than he does.”

There was a pause.

“So Latveria, huh?”

“Yes. How quickly can you have everyone assembled here at the Baxter Building?”

“Give me an hour.” Tony said.

“See you then.” Reed said, and ended transmission.

Tony sighed, he was glad he had something to do, but now he’d have to think of an excuse to tell Scarlet Johansen.

*

“The Avengers will be here in an hour. We’ll leave in two.” Reed said. “Freebird, I hope you don’t mind if Sue and Johnny watch your baby for you.”

Freebird shook her head, “that’s fine.”

“Several of my X-Men are already on their way.” Xavier said.

“Good.” Reed said, he turned to Ben, “I’m going to need you to come with me, old friend.”

Ben smiled, “I got some unfinished business wit dat chrome plated dirtbag.”

“Guys?” Spider-Man said, “I know this isn’t the best time for me to mention this, but, I don’t have a passport.

 

[CPaulLandri]

more in 2009!

 

[CPaulLandri]

More today, honest!

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Lichstein looked over the mutant with approval. Richards had sedated him heavily, which meant he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon. Dr. Doom would be pleased with the progress he made in capturing the mutant. Doom also warned Lichstein of the potential retaliation by Dr. Richards and his family, but so far, Lichstein had not been followed. The sleep inducing device had worked beautifully and chances were the group of super beings would still be fast asleep.

He looked out the window of the sleek Blackhawk helicopter and smiled. They were well over the Atlantic Ocean and within a few hours would pass the English Channel. Latveria would not be long now.

Doom had prepared his servant well, briefing him personally as to how Dr. Richards would react, and so far, he had been spot on. Richards would try and find the most logical solution to the problem and it would take some time. Chances are he’d call for assistance, but again, it would take time. Reed Richards, Doom had said, was too methodical and predictable, which was why this plan would work and he would finally be able to destroy Richards, and the entire Fantastic Four, for good.

On a personal level, though, Lichstein could care less about his master’s never ending squabble with the leader of the Fantastic Four. The way Lichstein saw it, Doom had a country to run and shouldn’t be concerned with such trivial matters as some half baked vendetta based mostly out of a narcissistic jealousy which has been ongoing since Doom and Richards were in college. If Lichstein had his way, Doom, the man who he was one hundred percent loyal to, would worry solely about making his country the superpower it deserved to be, and not some third world, post Cold War punch line that no one took seriously.

Again he glanced over at the mutant. Once the Latverian geneticists figure out how to finish the job Percival started, maybe Doom would come to his senses and the world would take his country seriously.

“You mindless bafoon,” he said to the sedated mutant, “you simply do not know how lucky you are to be in the service of Doom. The greatest leader since Napoleon, nay, Hannibal.” Lichstein smiled. It wouldn’t be long until they returned home, and so far, there was no sight of Reed Richards, or anyone else who might seek to rescue the pathetic creature from Doom’s grasp.

*

Freebird had only heard whispers about him, rumors, and stories that, even though they probably were true, still were hard to believe because she had never seen the man before. She could believe a man could walk on walls and spin webs because she’d seen Spider-Man on a few occasions in Manhattan, and she could believe that a giant, orange rock monster lived in a highrise because he was currently standing next to Dr. Richards, chewing an unlit cigar. But it took her a few minutes to realize she was standing in complete slack-jawed awe when Captain America walked into the laboratory in full uniform. His shield, which looked practically brand new despite everything it had been through, gleamed almost divinely in the late morning light.

Freebird had to admit she was impressed, and she was not one to be impressed easily.

And, for the first time since seeing Paul the way he was, she felt hopeful. If anyone could help get Paul back, it was the First Avenger.

“You must be Miss Freebird,” Cap said. It took her a moment to pick out his accent. Brooklyn, but a Brooklyn from another time. Her grandfather’s time.

“Yes,” She said, “They took Paul.”

“We’re going to find him, but first we’re going to need you to tell us everything you know about his powers.” Captain America gestured with his free hand and the rest of the Avengers stepped in.

“These are The Avengers. Iron Man, Hawkeye, Wasp, Vision, and, Giant Man. Please tell us about him.”

She told them everything they needed to know about his mutant abilities and how he was the victim of an experiment and didn’t have a memory anymore and was taken away to Latveria.

To Dr. Doom.

“We’d better get a move on, people.” Cap said, “Charles, what is the ETA on your X-Men?”

“Oh, I believe they have just landed, Captain.” Charles said.

“Good.” He turned around and, like the soldier he was, spoke clearly and distinctly, “Move out!”
The Avengers left to meet the other X-Men.

“I guess that’s my cue to exit stage left.” Spider-Man said. “I hope I can bum a ride with Iron Man.” He followed quickly.

“Freebird,” Charles said, “I suggest you follow them to the roof. If I know the good captain he will want to debrief the X-Men before they leave.”

“Yes, Professor.” Freebird said. She left the laboratory, but not without kissing Sam.
“Be good for Mrs. Richards, okay?” She said.

Sam cooed.

She saw Dr. Richards and Thing following her.

Meanwhile, in the laboratory, Kurt was just about to leave when Xavier called him back.

“Kurt.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Is this the right thing to do?” Xavier asked, rubbing his temples.

Kurt was taken aback, “What do you mean, Professor?”

“Kurt…father, this has been weighing heavily on my mind for some time now.” Xavier sighed.

Kurt could see what this was.

“My son,” Kurt said, “You seek absolution for something?”

“Yes, father.” Xavier said, “I seek forgiveness for my failure in not seeing this coming.”

Kurt was about to say something to the effect of ‘you’re not psychic’, but that would have been a lie.

Instead he said, “you are allowed to make mistakes, my son. None of us are born perfect.”

“This shouldn’t have happened, and it shouldn’t be happening. I failed that boy and I failed his friend and their child.” He looked up at Kurt, “Do you think God will forgive me for my failure?”

Kurt nodded, “without a doubt, my son.”

“Will Paul?”
“Zat, I fear, remains to be seen only by God.”

Kurt made the sign of the Cross, said a prayer in Latin and gave absolution to Charles Xavier.

“Kurt?”

“Yes, my son?”

“When did you get so wise?”

“I have two great teachers in my life. God and Charles Xavier.” He made the sign of the Cross over Xavier and left the room to catch up with the others.

 

[CPaulLandri]

*

Victor Von Doom was not known to be a very patient man. In fact, he had his head chef executed last month for making him wait two minutes for his supper. Today, though, Doom was willing to wait. The prize was worth waiting for.

As his mid-afternoon meal arrived at the exceedingly long oak table (of which he was the only guest,) two minutes early (the new chef was not taking chances,) Doom smiled under his metal mask. Lichstein was coming back with his ultimate weapon, and when the mutant was completely loyal to Doom, no one would stop him.

Not even Reed Richards.

Doom looked down at the venison stew cooling on the table. He shook his head. Another exectution.

Doom hated celery in his stew.

He pushed the bowl away and thought about how he might replicate the DNA of this particular mutant to create an entire army of mutant slaves, all loyal to Doom and all of whom could adapt their mutant powers around their foes. It bought a smile to his face, thinking about all he could do with such an army at his disposal. Not only would he be able to further tighten his grip on his own people (he cursed himself with being so lax lately, a round of arrests and subsequent hangings must happen tomorrow,) he would spread his influence all throughout Eastern Europe, eventually expanding the Latverian Empire into Western Europe and even Russia.

But, as with all things, there would b little speed bumps. No doubt Reed Richards and the mutant animal Charles Xavier were working together to undo what Doom’s researcher’s had done. No doubt they would come for the mutant now that he had been retrieved and was being sent to Latveria.
Doom hoped for a little luck. That Lichstein had gotten a good enough head start so that when he got back to Latveria with the mutant test subject, the geneticists would be able to finish what that useless bug Percival started.

In the quiet solitude of his dining hall, Doom looked at the bowl of stew, and, in a rare act of mercy, decided to have the chef’s right hand cut off instead of killing him outright.

*

Freebird saw Spider-Man get on board the aircraft the Avengers had come on, and knew this was real. This was going to be her second outing as an X-Man and it troubled her. The last time they had gone on a rescue mission it had been bittersweet. She had gotten her daughter back, but had lost the one person in the world she loved most. Kurt teleported behind her and nudged her into the jet. She immediately knew that Charles Xavier wasn’t messing around.

Scott was piloting the Jet, as always. Hank was in the co-pilot’s seat. Peter, Logan, Bobby, and Remy, the heavy hitters, were all on board.

Freebird felt a little better knowing they were going on this mission. Especially Logan. She didn’t know him that well, but had heard stories about his ferocity and had seen glimpses of it. She remembered the mutilated bodies of the guards in Maine, and how she had almost thrown up at the sight of so much gore created by one man with unbreakable claws.

She strapped herself in next to Bobby, who in classic Bobby Drake fashion, was listening to his IPod. He smiled at her and mouthed the words “Flogging Molly”, and gave her a thumbs up.

“Everyone present?” Scott asked.

“Just about, Scott.” Kurt said, strapping himself in. “now, ve go, ya?”

“Set the course for Latveria, Hank.” Scott said.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Hank said, typing a sequence of coordinates into the navigation system. The engines came to life in a humming drone, and before Freebird knew it, they had taken off from the Baxter Building.

She only hoped they would make it in time.