X-MEN

#95

Being the fourth chapter of Atomic War

Of Lost Faith and Newfound Fears

Brought to you by Stephen Crosby

Robert Drake had always hated hospitals. The last time he’d been in one was to visit his father, who had been beaten by supporters of then-Presidential Candidate Graydon Creed. The senior Drake had chosen to speak out at a rally for Creed, and the experience had served to bring about a reconciliation between the estranged father and son.

The reason for Robert’s current hospital visit wasn’t quite so personal, at least not for him. No, Robert was only accompanying an old friend, Henry McCoy. Several months ago, Henry’s ex-girlfriend Trish Tilby had been brutally attacked, nearly killed. Though she’d since recovered physically, the attack had left her traumatized, and she was still confined to the psychiatric ward. Henry had been there when Trish was attacked, and had himself been badly beaten by the same man who had hurt Trish.

Several weeks ago, Robert had gone to see his old friend at his parents’ farm. The McCoys had treated Robert politely, for they were deeply concerned about their son. Henry had been in the attack, sitting in the dark, when Robert found him. He’d recovered from the beaten, but like Trish he was also suffering mentally. And while Robert had tried his best to comfort and aid his old friend, Henry had barely responded. It had only been when Robert relayed a message from Professor Xavier that Henry showed emotion. Robert’s jaw still ached.

He’d been about to leave when Robert had received another message from the professor, that time about the attack on the Greys. Immediately, Robert had warned the McCoys and spoken with Henry again. News of the Toad, and of the opportunity to face him again, that had finally gotten Henry moving.

It had been Toad who raped and brutally beat Trish Tilby before throwing her from the roof of a building. Then for an encore, Toad beat Henry McCoy coconscious and brought about the destruction of the Genoshan capital city, Hammer Bay.

After returning to the mansion outside of Salem Center, New York, it took Henry weeks to bring up the courage to visit Trish in New York City. Because Toad and his Brotherhood of Evil Mutants had been aiming attacks at X-Men, Professor Xavier had insisted that nobody leave the mansion alone. So Robert went to accompany Henry, and for his own reasons, Peter Rasputin went to visit the hospital with them.

Henry was in the psyche ward visiting Trish. Robert waited outside, and Peter hadn’t mentioned who in the hospital he was visiting. Robert hadn’t asked, of course, though he had been curious. Peter had no living family, and virtually no friends outside the X-Men that Robert knew of. It wasn’t his business, though, and so the only thing Robert had said to Peter was that he stay in the hospital.

The door to the psyche ward opened outward, and Henry McCoy walked out into the hallway. With his large build and blue body hair, nobody ever asked when Henry was called the Beast. The appearance wasn’t the result of Henry’s mutant abilities, but rather was due to a scientific experiment gone wrong. Henry’s appearance wasn’t much a problem, however. For a time, he’d been a popular member of the Avengers, and was still associated with the group. That association made Henry McCoy probably one of the most high-profile and respected mutants in the world. There were still groups of people that lobbied for Beast to rejoin the Avengers. Privately, Robert Drake was among them.

At seeing his old friend emerge, Robert moved towards him. "How is she?" he asked. Henry hadn’t been in there long.

Henry sighed. "Her doctor said that she was showing signs of improvement. She didn’t recommend I see her, though. I agreed."

"Hank, it’s been months-"

"Recovering from what she’s been through could take years," Henry said, on the verge of tears.

"Seeing somebody she knows could-"

"No me, Bobby. I saw her immediately after it…after it happened. She associates me with the experience." He closed his eyes. "Lord, I’ll never forget the look of fear in her eyes when she looked at me. It was…it was as though I did it to her."

After being victimized in such a way, Robert thought that perhaps Trish couldn’t handle somebody she cared about seeing her like that. But being unfamiliar with psychological traumas, Robert chose not to say anything.

"I’ll keep in touch with the doctor," Henry added. "To check on Trish’s progress. Maybe, eventually…" Henry shook his head. "All I can do is hope, I suppose."

"That, and cripple the son of a bitch who did this to her," Robert said.

Henry bared his teeth. "I’m going to kill him." The tone of voice, it scared Robert. "Let’s go back. Maybe Kitty found something."

Ever since she returned from her father’s funeral in Chicago, Katherine "Kitty" Pryde hadn’t left the computers in the mansion’s War Room. She spent every waking moment pouring over information, trying to find out everything worthwhile that pertained to the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

"Yeah, okay," Robert agreed. "We’ll just go find Peter, then head on back."

"I have an idea where to start," Henry said as the two started down the hall, away from the psyche ward.

__________________________________________________________________________________

In the children’s ward of the hospital, there was an entire section that was blocked off by plexi-glass, self-contained in it’s own environment. There was only one child in this section, a little blond girl no older than five. She lay unconscious, in a coma, hooked up to life support. The reason for her isolation was because this little girl suffered from the Legacy Virus.

Watching the little girl from the other side of the glass, Peter Rasputin sang a Russian lullaby. It had been a favorite of his little sister’s.

__________________________________________________________________________________

The prayer was recited in Latin, as the candles were lit. The whole of the church was illuminated from candles, thousands scattered about. Kurt Wagner lit the final one as he finished the prayer.

"I don’t like this," said Archangel from behind him.

Kurt sighed. Even before they had left the mansion, Archangel had complained about the trip. He had called it unnecessary. A waste of time. Which was about what Kurt would expect from a man who turned his back on God.

"You’ve made that clear, my friend," Kurt replied as he rose from his knees and turned around. "But what exactly don’t you like?"

"Everything," answered Archangel. "Being here leaves us exposed, and worse it leaves the mansion vulnerable. If I’m not there to patrol, anything could get through the defenses."

That had been Archangel’s main point of argument against accompanying Kurt. But Professor Xavier had insisted that no X-Man could leave the mansion grounds alone. Henry and Peter both had valid reasons to attend the hospital, and because neither was in the best emotional shape Robert Drake had insisted and going with them. Ever since her return from Chicago, Kitty had not left the computers in the War Room. She had become obsessed with finding Toad and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Archangel had been the only one available.

"You should have some faith in Kitty and the professor," Kurt said. "Even if you’ve lost your faith in God."

"I never had any faith in God. And over the years I’ve come to learn that I can only rely on myself."

"That’s not true, Warren. If you had faith in yourself, you wouldn’t need those wings."

The metallic wings that protruded from Archangel’s back twitched. "I’m at least smart enough to know that I do need these wings. Every time I forget that, every time I take back my old wings, I’m reminded of just how useless they are."

"I fail to see what’s so useless about flying?"

"That’s not enough anymore. Things are dangerous in the world, and I need to be able to take it as well as deal it out. It’s no secret, Nightcrawler. When I was just Angel, I was the weakest X-Man. Always the captive, always getting injured. With Jean around I wasn’t even useful for carrying people." The wings flexed, their dark metal surface glistening frighteningly in the candlelight. "But with these, I can actually contribute something."

"Killing people isn’t a contribution."

"Save the preaching. I prefer getting my wings ripped out time and again. Something that’s never happened with these, by the way. Do you honestly think I could hold my own against Wolverine with natural wings? Against Sabretooth?"

Nightcrawler shook his head. "Is that what you were thinking about when you were buying Artie time to escape from the Marauders?"

"Of course not," Archangel barked. "If I could I would do that again, even without any wings. But if I’d had these babies," the metal wings were spread wide. "Think about the lives I could have saved then. I would have torn through the Marauders like they were nothing."

"The X-Men are about more than being dangerous," Nightcrawler interjected.

"You should be one to talk, carrying around swords the way you do. Both you and Kitty have passive abilities, and you’ve both used them offensively. Tell me you wouldn’t teleport a head from it’s body if lives were on the line."

When Kurt became silent, Archangel continued. "I know you’ve already killed before. With your powers, did you really have to take your brother’s life-"

"I know this isn’t you, Warren," Kurt said quietly. "What stands before me is a creation of Apocalypse. He took your anger, your hatred, and nourished it into a weapon. It’s no accident that you can morph those…things back into your original wings. Apocalypse made that possible, probably to try and remind you of your weaknesses whenever you broke from his control."

"It works too."

"You’ve broken away twice already, Warren. We all know Elisabeth had something to do with the first time-"

"Don’t say her name again," Archangel broke in angrily. "My old wings came back because Sabretooth made me doubt my real wings. And for that, I’ll lob his head off the next time I see him. It took the Abomination ripping those wings off for me to realize where my only strengths lie. I’ll lob off his head for that too."

"Then why go back to your original wings?" Nightcrawler asked. "You were shifting between the two for months, undecided."

"Only in moments of brief weakness," Archangel replied. "Whenever I was unconscious, at peace. It took facing the Marauders again for me to realize that I will never be at peace again. At least not so long as murderous mutants are out to kill me." He barked a rough laugh. "And in return for that insight, I did lob their heads off."

Disgusted, Kurt Wagner turned away from Archangel, walked towards the large doors leading out of the church.

"Come on Kurt," Archangel called out after him. "We only find peace when we’re dead. Can’t we at least agree on that?"

There was no response from Kurt as he pulled open the door and stepped out into the light.

__________________________________________________________________________________

In the mansion that was the X-Men’s headquarters, Kitty Pryde toiled away in the War Room. Located on the second sub-level, the amply named room was where the X-Men gathered information and held meetings. Computers designed with Shi’ar technology far more advanced than Earth were there, used to process and compute at far greater capacity.

In the X-Men, none were better with computers than Kitty Pryde. It wasn’t a mutation, but simply a skill she possessed naturally. Only Henry McCoy or Forge could rival her talents, and only the techno-organic entity known as Douglock could exceed her.

At that moment, Kitty was typing furiously at the consoles, entering commands at a frightening rate of speed. Through the advanced computers of the War Room, Kitty had access to satellites in orbit, communications between top intelligence agencies, as well as news reports from around the world. And every one of those resources were centered on finding the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

Kitty knew they had something with her father’s death. They’d attacked Jean’s parents, tried to kill Trish Tilby. They must have been involved.

For all their talk of bravado, Kitty did not see many signs of activity from the Brotherhood. The disaster in Genosha and the riots in Boston, which had been widely advertised by the Brotherhood, there were virtually no other incidents for which they claimed credit. Not since they killed that girl outside of Salem Center, a message to the X-Men. The only other news concerning the Brotherhood had been a fight between Toad and Batroc the Leaper in Phoenix, Arizona.

Genosha. Phoenix. Boston. Salem Center. In and out of each location with a lot of noise. The Grey home would likely have been noisy too, and they’d been able to get in and out with the same suddenness. Obviously, the Brotherhood had a member who could teleport. Why couldn’t they strike in Chicago with no sign?

In Boston, riots had been widespread. Too widespread. People were manipulated. The Brotherhood had a telepath. Would have made it easy to force those boys to…

It wasn’t their fault. The Brotherhood must have made them do it. They killed Kitty’s father.

The Cerebro monitor was blinking. The mutant detector had been programmed to continuously scan around the X-Men out of the mansion for signs of other mutants. Checking the monitor, Kitty saw that six new readings had appeared in the vicinity of Iceman, Beast and Colossus. They had just suddenly appeared, from out of nowhere.

__________________________________________________________________________________

"Stay behind me Hank," Iceman cautioned. The only reply he got was a low growl. Beast stood behind Iceman, glaring over his cold shoulder at the three men positioned on the street outside the hospital.

Standing side by side were Avalanche and Pyro, almost unrecognizable in their less flashy uniforms. Both wore black body-suits accessorized to complement their specific powers. Avalanche’s had metallic plates that seemed to shift over his body, while Pyro’s had the usual fuel tanks on his back and flamethrowers attached to his wrists. Behind them, but by no means blocked from sight, stood the Blob. The sight of him wearing only boots and short trunks was truly frightening.

"Fred, you really need to put on a shirt," advised Iceman. "Even in infra-vision, that is not an attractive look."

"I was attractive enough for your mother last night, Drake!" Blob shot back with a cruel laugh. Iceman tried not to shudder. The Brotherhood had recently attacked Jean Grey’s parents. Even though Professor Xavier had taken extra measures, Iceman couldn’t help but take the barb to heart.

A wide grin spread across Blob’s face. "But if you want the dirt on Toad, just go ask Tilby. She was still panting when I tossed her out the window!"

With an animal roar, Beast vaulted over Iceman. He sailed towards the three evil mutants, his hands outstretched. Pyro flicked his wrist, and a spark of flame shot out.

"It’s the hair on yer back that turns the ladies off, boyo. Let me help you with that."

Taking the form of dozens of scissors, the flames engulfed Beast’s body. When they passed, Beast fell to the floor. There wasn’t a mark on his naked, bare pink-skinned body.

Avalanche burst out laughing. "Looks like that myth about big feet isn’t true after all! If you asked me fellas, we’d be doing this poor sap a favor by - oomph!"

A block of ice had slammed into Avalanche’s chest, forcing him to crash into the Blob’s belly. Iceman had stepped in front of the unconscious Beast, his ice form seriously bulked up.

"I’ll skip the joke about Blob’s B.O. winning the fight for me," remarked Iceman in an icy tone. "That was the last time any of you will hurt one of my friends."

"Bold words for a guy made of ice to say in front of a bloke who controls fire!" Pyro declared. He pointed the flamethrowers at Iceman’s form. Nothing happened.

"They’re easy to say when I can freeze the fuel in your tanks," Iceman added.

A smile crept up on Pyro’s lips. One of the trash containers near the hospital entrance exploded in a fiery blaze. "God bless smokers." A flaming ice pick dropped down on Iceman. Within several inches of his head, the flames stopped.

Pyro’s smile vanished, while Iceman’s widened. "That’s technology for you." He tapped a dark belt buckle on his waist, which hadn’t iced up. "Being made of ice, I don’t need to breathe. This little beauty creates a vacuum around me. No oxygen equals no fire. Face it, you guys are out of your leeeeeeaaaaaaa-"

While Iceman had been bragging about his new toy, Avalanche had been recovering from the smell of Blob’s armpits. Waves of vibrational force had emanated from his outstretched hands into Iceman, who in his ice form was especially brittle.

"How do you like that?" Avalanche remarked. "Push a body some, and he falls to pieces."

The laughter of Pyro and Avalanche was drowned out by the Blob’s roaring guffaws. Scattered out before them were the glittering fragments of what had been Iceman. A web of flames settled over the ground, and those fragments rapidly melted into small puddles.

Watching through a window on the third floor, Colossus felt shame. He should have leapt out the instant he knew of the attack, should have helped Hank and Bobby. Instead he stood frozen, and watched as those three evil mutants overpowered his friends.

The reason Colossus had failed to act was simple, perhaps the most basic thing of all. He was afraid. Once before, he had fought those same three mutants. Blob had punched him out a five story window. Pyro had enveloped him in fire so hot that the metal flesh of Colossus had gone white. Then, Avalanche sent trucks filled with liquid nitrogen careening into him. The sudden extreme cold against an extremely hot surface had nearly been too much for Colossus. He’d been trapped in a frozen shell of his own body, unable to move or return to human form. It had taken great efforts for the X-Men to save Colossus, but none had been able to mend the wounds in his psyche.

So Colossus was frozen to the spot, unable to do anything save watch, while his friends were possibly killed. He watched as Blob picked up Beast’s prone form, and as a bald little man appeared in thin air.

Colossus was still watching when a gloved had pressed against the back of his neck.

"I’m sorry sir, but visiting hours are over. You have to leave."

The last thing Colossus felt was a slight jab in his neck. Then he was gone.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Being that they were also in New York City, Archangel and Nightcrawler had been closest when Shadowcat raised the alarm. Though Archangel flew as fast as he could, and Nightcrawler teleported nearly half-a-mile with each jump, they could only arrive at the hospital just after Vanisher had teleported away. Gone with him were Pyro, Avalanche, Blob and their captive, Beast.

Landing on the ground at a run, Archangel rapidly searched the scene with his eyes. "I smell singed flesh. There are blue hairs on the ground, burned at the ends."

"But no body," Nightcrawler said, reaching for something. "They took him alive, they must have. Just so Toad could…"

"Brag more about how he raped Hank’s girlfriend," Archangel finished bluntly. "I agree, when we find him we cut out his tongue and tie it around his balls until they drop off. And Pyro will be begging for that before I’m done with him. Bobby!" Archangel yelled out. "Peter! Please, don‘t let them be taken too."

"Oh no." Nightcrawler was kneeling on the ground, next to a small puddle of water. "I fear that may be the wrong prayer."

"It can’t be," Archangel declared forcefully at seeing the small puddle, and several others around it. "Pyro was here, sure, but Bobby had something to protect him. No oxygen, that’s what the uniform’s supposed to do. Without oxygen, there can’t be fire. Pyro couldn’t have done this. He couldn’t have. That son of a bitch should pray that he didn’t."

"I’ll go inside," informed Nightcrawler. "See if Ms. Tilby is alright, if anybody is inside. At the least, there might be a witness to- Mein Gott!" He exclaimed as he leapt away from the water. It had suddenly flowed.

All around the two X-Men, the pools of water were moving, flowing towards one another. One by one, they congealed together, until there was one large puddle on the sidewalk. Flowing like mercury, the water rose and expanded into a humanoid form. It could be visibly noticed that the water was hardening into ice.

"I’ll be damned," Archangel muttered. "He did do it."

Lying on the sidewalk was Iceman, his body thin and opaque, limbs elongated and bent at unnatural angles. Cautiously, Nightcrawler moved towards the body. The movement was sudden, a wild thrashing that Nightcrawler leapt to avoid. Without moving at all, Iceman was on his feet. The ice had flowed into that position, more liquid that solid.

"Bobby, take control," Archangel spoke softly. "It’s me, Warren. What you need to do is-"

The sound of ice screaming is not what you would expect. It was crackling and rippling and deep and piercing all at the same time. Iceman was on his hands and knees, his body shifting in tone and depth, from translucent to solid white. It took an instant before Archangel and Nightcrawler realized that what they were hearing was not screaming.

Shattered ice had reformed, and was attempting to transform back into flesh. To describe such a process would be to give a person years of nightmares. Iceman didn’t transform all at once. A bone here, a vein there, patches of skin that would brittle with cold as fast as they were forming.

Finally, after what seemed to be a grueling eternity, the flesh and blood body of Robert Drake was kneeling down before Archangel and Nightcrawler. His exhaled breaths clearly visible on the hot day, Robert looked up at his friends with frozen eyes.

"Wwheerrrrreeeeee…." His voice was crackling, as though the vocal cords were still frozen.

"We got them," Archangel replied. He stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. "Just let met help you up, and I’ll take you to them."

Robert seemed to relax as Archangel stepped beside him. Suddenly, Archangel struck out, stabbing at the back of Robert’s neck with the metal feather he’d held hidden. The paralytic venom coating the feather did it’s work quickly. Robert fell over, unconscious, into Archangel’s waiting arms.

Easily, Archangel lifted up his friend and looked at Nightcrawler. "We need to get him to the mansion, immediately."

"Agreed. If you think he’s up for the trip, fly him out. I’ll go inside and-"

"I am here," Colossus said as he stepped out of the hospital. Nightcrawler grated his teeth at being interrupted a second time. There was something else, too.

"Where were you?" Nightcrawler demanded. "Did you see what they did to Iceman!"

"Henry told me to stay with Trish," Colossus explained. His voice was tinged with guilt, however. "Nobody tried to get at her, thankfully." He looked down at Iceman. "I should have been here."

There was a roar from overhead. Nightcrawler looked up and saw the Blackbird, materializing into view over his head. The bottom panel slid open, and a rope ladder unrolled to reach the ground. Archangel was already in the air, carrying Robert Drake with him. Taking the ladder in hand, Nightcrawler held it out for Colossus.

"We’ll sort everything out at the mansion. Hurry up."

On the street, air imploded in on itself, carrying forth the stench of sulfur. Aboard the Blackbird, air expanded outwards, also bringing the smell of sulfur. Archangel was strapping Robert to a seat. Katherine Pryde was in the pilot’s chair. Nightcrawler took the seat beside her.

"They got Hank," he told her.

"What happened to Bobby?"

"Imagine the worst possible thing they could have done."

Katherine nodded. "And Peter?"

"Fine," Nightcrawler replied. "On his way up."

Colossus had just appeared through the bottom of the jet, and was rolling up the rope ladder. Katherine turned around to look at him, relieved.

"It didn’t look like anybody else was hurt," Archangel said. "They must have just been after Hank. Toad isn’t finished."

"We’ll find him," Nightcrawler promised as Katherine flew the Blackbird out of Manhattan.

"And we’ll get even," Archangel agreed.

"Who was it?" Katherine asked. "Somebody must have seen."

Nightcrawler shook his head. Archangel looked down at Robert. "Bobby won’t be talking any time soon. Maybe after the Professor does something. They really did a number on him. And Hank, from what we saw of the scene."

"Five against two would do that," Katherine agreed. "Well, four against two. One of the mutants Cerebro detected disappeared as quickly as it showed up, probably their teleported." She turned to look at Colossus. "Peter, you didn’t see any of them?"

"No." Colossus had his back to them all. Nobody saw the faint smile on his face. "Nobody at all."

__________________________________________________________________________________

The village was small, virtually deserted. It was no wonder, of course. The uncovered artifacts which had brought archaeologists to the area had long since been taken abroad. Nothing remained in the land, and so the expeditions had left. The only reason anything remained, why anybody stayed, was because of the village’s close proximity to Libya. The border was less than a mile away. So the government rotated a squad of soldiers every few months to keep an eye out. That brought the prostitutes and a profitable trade in liquors.

As he walked into the small village, Logan felt right at home. He ignored the solicitations of the prostitutes, making his way towards a small bar near the center of town. Both Egyptians and Libyans frequented the place, he’d heard. Apparently they all enjoyed looking at the proprietor.

Upon entering the bar and getting one look at her, Logan could see why. Tall and lithe, her dark skin was flawless. The body was curvy and muscular, though not overly so. The long white hair that fell down over her shoulders contrasted magnificently against her dark skin, perfectly framing her beautiful face.

Yep, Logan could not deny that Ororo Munroe was one of the most beautiful woman he had ever known.

Upon seeing her latest customer, Ororo gave no outward sign. She set the tray of mugs on the bar and made her way towards him, easily navigating the reaching patrons. It took a little for Logan to hold back. When Ororo reached him, she wrapped her arms around him and gave a warm hug, which he returned. A hug between two old friends.

"What are you doing here?" Ororo asked after breaking away.

"A fella could say the same about you, ‘Ro," Logan remarked. "Running a seedy bar in the middle of a seedy town is more my thing."

Ororo took him by the arm and pulled. "Come, we can talk privately out back." There were some hoots as Logan followed Ororo, but neither of them paid any mind.

When she closed the door behind them, Ororo turned upon Logan. "It’s good to see you again, Logan. The last I’d heard, you were fighting vampires in Madripoor."

"You mind telling me how?" Logan asked. He was preparing to light the cigar he’d stuck in his mouth. "That ain’t exactly common knowledge."

"I’ve spent some time in the…mystical community lately," Ororo explained. "A brief attempt to get in touch with that part of my heritage. There were some bad experiences. I’d rather leave it at that."

"Yeah, some news got to me," Logan replied. "Strange things have happened to both of us, and we leave it at that."

"Which brings us to the here and now," Ororo added. "Why are you here, Logan?"

"I’ll give you one guess, and if you get the news out here it shouldn’t be a hard one."

"Did the Professor contact you?" Ororo asked.

"As a matter of fact, he did," answered Logan. "Charley seems to think I’d be of use in this kind of fight. Reason I’m here is because I think you’d be of use too."

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