Iori Daemona Angel
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Chapter 11.1
🕑 Added 2020-07-02 20:33:37 +0000 UTCChapter edited by sinisterr, pids, sky and Blackstarline
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(Elizabeth Margareth ‘Peggy’ Carter)
Cerberus HQ
08:45 PM
CRASH.
Peggy took another vase, lifted it up and slammed it onto the ground. CRASH. Never had she felt so impotent, so useless! Wrong, she was wrong… she had felt this horrible way one other time. It was when Steve took that damn plane to the arctic and landed over the water near Greenland. She froze at this realization but then made her way over to her office chair and took a seat.
Once she sat, she swivelled toward the armored bay window and looked outside, where the sun had almost set and the shadows in the city would soon bring darkness to the land. Peggy’s thoughts spiraled downward again as her mind trickled back towards her failure. There was no sugarcoating it- she had truly failed to uphold her promise to the young woman who she had come to view as a granddaughter. Jean was more attentive than her niece, Sharon, who was more of a loose cannon.
Already Peggy suspected foul play. She knew that Hydra was embedded deep but them being able to act boldly like this made her blood boil. Her being director here would let her stall the rotation of personnel and dig out the rot in her own headquarters. She rapped a fingernail against the armrest of her office chair as she pondered at the issue of how long this ambush had been planned.
“Someone had to have sent the route Jean and her escort had taken.” Unfortunately, there were too many suspects for her to have a chance to ever find them.
Peggy lowered her head, and sighed heavily, but a thread of anger was still present in her mind. She slammed her fist on her arm rest. “I will find you.” She promised, her voice icy and sharp enough to cut through glass.
Someone whistled in admiration and then she heard a familiar voice say, “See Nick, I told you it was going to be time for a witch hunt.”
“That you did.” The gruff voice was even more familiar.
Peggy’s chair swiveled toward the entrance of her office and she saw the uniformed Nick Fury and Phil Coulson standing in the entrance of her office, holding wine and beer.The old woman wanted to rage at them for interrupting her wallowing and self-flagellation.
She held herself back, though. “I said I wanted to be left alone for a while.”
“There’s no problem so awful that you can’t add some guilt to it and make it even worse.” Phil quoted as he walked to her desk in sync with Nick who looked around them, impressed by the destruction of the decorations and furniture.
Peggy’s expression became thoughtful. “Never heard of that saying.”
“One of my friends told me that when I failed for the first time.” Phil said sagely as he put the pack of specially imported Greene King beer on Peggy’s desk.
Nick went to the alcohol cabinet opposite the desk and found some crystal cups and brandy. His face lit up when he found Peggy’s stash of tea biscuits and he snatched them and placed everything on his boss’s desk.
“I see.” Peggy commented, starting between the two men- the only two agents she could trust to not betray her. “What have you come here for? Have you come to get an old woman drunk?”
Nick snorted. “Drunk? Ma’am, I remember you drinking us under the table some months ago.”
Despite herself, Peggy shot Nick a wicked smile. “And I paid for it on the morrow. Bloody good times.” Her voice was wistful and she fell into nostalgia. Peggy remembered being out for a night on the town with Howard and Antonia Stark, going bar hopping until they couldn’t walk. They were talking about funding SHIELD and lending gear and other resources. Howard came up with the concept of the helicarrier by drunkenly doodling on a napkin...
“We have pieced together what happened.” Phil said with undistilled emotion.
In a second, the trip down memory lane halted. Peggy’s eyes hardened and she leaned in her chair and looked at each of the men. “Business first, I see.”
Nick tipped his chi down in a nod. “When we are in these halls? Always.”
And the two agents began to weave the tale of an ambush that claimed the lives of four SHIELD agents on Corona avenue. The pursuit then stopped abruptly on Van Doren street when an explosive device was used to stop the vehicle with the person of interest inside. The three interrogated rookie agents that were with the person of interest survived thanks to her ability and were rendered unconscious. Instead of fleeing, the person of interest chose to stay and defend the downed agents.
“A damn fine job she did before she got taken down by that Eskimo asshole.” Nick praised Jean Grey, a rare moment.
Peggy reacted to the racial slur. “Noatak was there?”
Kodiak Noatak, or Harpoon as he was called in the underworld, was an assassin on whom the only information SHIELD had managed to obtain was his ethnicity and trails of bodies all over Canada and the USA. Doctor Wright, their scientist specialized in powered humans, had described his power to be Longitudinal object conversion; he could imbue items with some sort of bio-energy and give them different effects.
Phil nodded, his face crinkled and his lips twisted into a scowl. “That bastard was caught lurking around the fight on camera.”
Peggy’s eyes were on Phil and she was aware he was struggling to rein his emotions in, The alcohol on the table was mostly for him and the old woman wouldn’t begrudge him to drink his sorrows away. He had entered into a rapport with Jean Grey who saw him as an uncle rather easily after being exposed to him and his good nature. He missed her. Peggy could also say that she did too, it was as if the teen knew how to easily enter their confidence and obtain their trust.
She had at first, like Nick, suspected that there was some subtle telepathic manipulation going on from Jean, but she was genuinely like that with the people she liked.
“There’s a recording of the battle if you are interested.” Nick threw out, munching on a biscuit.
The director’s eyes hardened, her voice becoming martial. “I am, bring it to me here.”
Ten minutes later Nick was back with an IT guy who set up a TV screen with a DVD player, the recordings of three different streets were collated together to offer perspective of how the fight happened. Jean killed the first one who appeared with some sort of teleportation technology. Phil explained that the scientists were having a field day with the high energetic signatures all over the place.
They now saw how Jean had deflected three .50 cal rounds fired from at least one kilometer away. They paused the video to discuss that specific part of the fight. “We found the body of the sniper, he was killed from afar, somehow Grey could see him.”
“Somehow we have been able to identify him.” Phil said as he put a folder on Peggy’s desk and slid it to her.
Peggy took and opened it, instantly seeing the old black and white picture of a clearly American Indian man in an army uniform. Phil continued his report, “This is John Greycrow, a Native American from an unidentified tribe. Just like you, Ma’am he fought in World War II for the USA, but he was executed for murdering his fellow officers.”
“The bastard.” Peggy spat, gritting her teeth.
What she heard next settled her nerves slightly. “He was shot by a firing squad and was believed to be... killed. Clearly false, our coroner and doctor Wright are examining the body to see how he died exactly.”
“The girl simply unscrewed his head off his shoulders. What’s so complicated about this?” Nick unhelpfully added while eating another biscuit.
Phil turned to his friend, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Nick…”
Nick leaned forward in his seat and stared at Peggy and Phil with a winning smile. “I knew she was used to killing.” Then his expression shifted to a haunted look. “But even for her, that was horrible.” He acknowledged, pointing a finger to the picture of the head of Greycrow.
Peggy glared at Nick who shrugged in return. “Let’s move on.” The director wanted to know how everything happened, to see how Jean had given everything and yet failed nonetheless.
The video resumed and an asian man appeared, lunging at Jean. She’d caught him but it seemed to have been a bad decision as suddenly she found herself on the ground. The asian man’s shoulders shook with his laughter.
“I think this guy was able to temporarily take away her powers.” Nick nodded, certain.
“He paid for it.” Phil said with dark satisfaction as Jean suddenly decapitated him with a kick. “We have unfortunately been unable to discover who he was, his head has been completely vaporized by Jean.”
Peggy paused the video again. “Since when is she this strong? I thought he had somehow messed with her ability?”
Shaking his head, Phil stared at her impotently. Jean Grey. Even though he could feel Jean Grey’s love for him in a familial kind of way, he knew she kept her cards really close to her chest. “We still don’t know, but it seems that Jean recently gained additional ones; she has stopped sparring with our agents lately. But the last time she was here, she joined a knife throwing game and each of her knives sunk to the hilt into the wooden surface. I think she gained some kind of super strength?”
Nick cackled. “The girl has been sandbagging us since we met her. We will never know how strong she is in fact. But the day we do, she’s going to dictate terms to us, you’ll see. Something has been going on since Norman Osborn died, did you hear about how his labs were raided and burned down the same day he bought it?”
A retort was on the tip of Peggy’s tongue, ready to tell him to stop throwing accusations where there were none, but to her surprise, Phil backed Nick. “His theories have some kind of merit ma’am… it pains me to say it, but I have been suspecting that Jean, I mean Miss Grey, has been using her powers to somehow take down various criminal organizations all over New York.”
She didn’t know how to take this information. *Jean had been playing vigilante again?* Elaine Grey had confided in Peggy that the main reason behind her allowing Jean to work for them was so they could maintain an eye on her daughter who had been mimicking the Daredevil of Hell’s Kitchen. She’d also been associated with the second best assassin in the world, Elektra Natchios. Those meetings were closely monitored by SHIELD, but Natchios had been there more in her capacity as combat instructor for the girl, so they didn’t push for anything concerning the assassin yet.
“How? I know what you are talking about, I saw the news; but she had been sleeping in her bed when the Russian Bratva was taken down some weeks ago. I checked myself.” Peggy said with certainty.
Nick laughed, and Phil himself couldn’t hold back a smile as the reaction of the Director permitted them to have one over her for once. “Ma’am you told us yourself to not expect our common sense to matter where powered people are concerned.”
“It all comes down to how those events have been linked, Director. Fire.” Nick spelled it out for her.
She seemed even more lost. “Fire?”
Nick took another biscuit from the bag, “Miss Grey is what Doctor Wright calls a Pyrokinetic, another ability she had shown us in her first ability test. The scientists have found that the fire generated by her powers consumes everything it touches, even the ash. And guess what? The burned down clubs, brothels and drug houses were all burned without anything left of them, not even ash remaining.”
With this overwhelming evidence… Peggy realized she couldn’t defend the girl. “Then she has been busy destroying the Russian…”
“And the sudden quelling of the gang related crimes in Harlem.” Phil added with his quirky smile.
Peggy laughed at the realization of how much Jean had played them. “Sneaky girl.” In a sense, she was proud that Jean could pull one over them so easily for so long, but in another, “What was she thinking?!”
“I don’t know, but she must have had her reasons. We will know them when we get her back.” Phil said with hope.
They conferred a little more, finished watching the video and surmised that they all needed to get the tech that was used in Jean’s capture analyzed. At the same time Nick was inducted into the secret that Hydra had infiltrated deeply and they could only depend on themselves to clear out their Headquarters, then move on from there.
# # #
(Alice, Eve & Francesco)
SHIELD rec room
09:01 PM
Guilt was not a response to anger; it was a response to one’s own actions or lack of action. If it led to change it could be useful, since it was then no longer guilt but the beginning of knowledge. Yet all too often, guilt was just another name for impotence, for defensiveness, destructive of communication; it became a device to protect ignorance and the continuation of things the way they were, the ultimate protection for changelessness.
Guilt was a feeling that gnawed at people typically when they’d just done something wrong, intentionally or accidentally. A person’s sense of guilt was usually related to their moral code.
Guilt wasn’t necessarily bad. Sometimes it was even productive. Feeling bad after making a mistake could lead to change, such as an apology or a decision to make different choices in the future. A “guilty pleasure” could describe something harmless a person enjoys even if they feel they shouldn’t or were embarrassed about their tastes.
No one could deny that guilt was sometimes unhelpful. It could cause physical symptoms, self-doubt, decreased self-esteem, and shame. It could be difficult to overcome these feelings. Having failed to help someone they were ordered to protect, someone who had become a friend somewhat, this seriously made the trio of Alice, Eve and Francesco think that they were failures they could not come back from.
The three of them isolated themselves in the second rec room of the building- the one where no senior agents would find themselves at this time of the night. They felt shame at having failed and were full of dread at what was being done to Jean.
“I wish I had been faster.” Alice was sitting on the sofa, nursing a bottle of White Ace cider.
Eve placed a comforting hand on her colleague’s forearm. “Nah, it all happened too fast Alice…”
The brunette recalled the moment Jean cried out about shooting the man who had suddenly appeared twenty meters from their vehicle. She did the math and as she was familiar with Alice’s reaction speed on the shooting range there was no way the blonde would have been fast enough to do anything about what happened next.
Alice looked at her, not willing to believe her and wallowed a bit more in her misery. “But-”
Eve bopped her on the nose and told her with all seriousness. “No buts, we weren’t prepared or serious enough and we paid for it… Jean paid for it.” Her tone was drenched in sadness by the end. The two women kept silent for a moment, thinking of the worst case scenarios; women being captured by terrorist or criminal scums often ended up being mentally and physically… violated. They looked at each other and hugged, seeking warmth as the prospect for their charge had made them feel cold with dread.
“I hope she’s going to hang in there.” Alice mumbled.
Francesco slammed his metal cup on the bar facing the sofa where the women were seated. He had drunk some Apple Sourz and felt a little of a buzz thrumming through his blood. He wanted to shoot someone or something. When he heard Alice and Eve talking, he couldn’t but help think of the worst scenarios too, but there was something that he knew about Jean Grey from the little time they had been acquainted, she wasn’t a quitter, she could take it and roll with the hits life threw at her.
That’s why he was confident in his next words that were meant to reassure his colleagues. “Jean will find a way to escape, you hear? She killed three of those guys before they took her down. I saw the video.”
Alice nodded, her sadness fading a little. “I did.” It had been incredible.
Jean had performed for them, just little tricks with her powers they had thought at the time. The redhead was companionable and funny, but after seeing her in action and wrecking those asshole kidnappers they were happy to have not pissed her off like the first team had, becoming virtual fixtures around her and ignored completely.
*Too bad she was taken out by a cheap shot.* Eve thought.
Francesco had a determined and wild expression on his face. “I bet you that we will see Jean here soon.”
Alice was the first to react to what the Latin man said. “How much?”
Francesco took a fifty from his wallet and slapped it against the bar. He smiled devilishly at the female agents who somehow felt better and less guilt ridden.
Eve said with decisiveness, “We need a pot. I want in on this.” With that, she stood and went in search of one.
“It gives me hope.” Alice took a $100 bill out of her wallet, walked up to the bar and placed the money on it, waiting for Eve to come back.
Later, other agents from the interrogation department would come to bet on how long it’d take Jean Grey to free herself, some variation of the bet spoke about how she would destroy the kidnappers’ base or come back with their dead bodies. There was a lot of that going on as the days passed and the pot’s money grew and grew until secondary pots were added.
Everyone that knew her was sure that Jean Grey would come back.
# # #
(Cindy Moon)
November 18th, 1996
B&T Electronics
11:21 PM
There were two kinds of guilt: the kind that drowned you until you were useless, and the kind that fired your soul to purpose. It was the second kind that concerned Cindy Moon. It had been seven days since her girlfriend was captured. She too was guilt ridden, wishing she;d gone with Jean that day and maybe, just maybe she would be there with her and her family.
Cindy had seen the state her father and mother were in when SHIELD had announced that their daughter had been taken. John had gone completely quiet and Elaine burst into sobs, breaking things until Cindy had hugged her. The asian girl had needed to do something or she would have sunk into despair, that was why she was accompanying Peter in his patrols and was fighting crime alongside him.
The enemy simply looked ridiculous, however he was still dangerous.
“You meddling kids! Who asked you to intervene?!” Shouted the man in green leather tights, spandex mesh jumpsuit and metallic bionic electromagnetic wings.
They were in an office, with the desk, computer and chair having been slammed into a wall, the safe behind a pricey painting of a woman was barely hanging from its hinges.
Peter was hanging on a wall trying to cover the winged man with a cocoon of spider threads, but they were simply torn apart by the metal feathers of his wings vibrating at subsonic speeds. “Give up man, killing that guy won’t make it alright, whatever he did to you.”
There was a man on the ground, the owner of this little electronic enterprise. He was slowly bleeding out due to the bullet taken to the guts. Peter had disarmed the bird man but kept trying to hold back to not kill him either. Cindy didn’t understand.
“Oh believe me it will…” The man grinned with pure delight.
It was at that moment that Cindy landed between the Vulture and Peter. She lunged at the birdman and attempted to land a superman punch on his shoulder, At the last moment he dodged, but Cindy nicked him and he held on the top of his arm crying out. Cindy didn’t stop there, targeting his legs with her spider silk and pulled, making the birdman fall.
Peter took advantage of this moment to send a big blotch of web fluid on the downed so he could be pinned down to the ground. The birdman was quick though, rolling away to the left and avoiding it. “Come on!” Peter was getting annoyed by the luck of the man.
Cindy jumped and the birdman tried to bat her away with a wing, but the spider girl caught the non bladed part on the armature of the wing and held on. Something strange happened as a blue electric bolt of electricity that coursed from Cindy’s right hand to the wingsuit made it stop moving completely. The man cried out and seized as if he was being electrocuted.
Cindy was about to claw the man’s face when Peter caught her hand. “Don’t, he’s down.”
Indeed, the birdman fell face first onto the ground. His mechanical looking wingsuit was smoking, sparks shooting out of it every few seconds.
“So?” Cindy retorted.
Jean had taught her that an enemy down was the perfect time to strike and beat them to within an inch of their life. The spandex wearing wannabe hero shook his head and told her through his lens covered eyes, “This isn’t how I do things, Ci-Spider girl.”
With the money that Jean had given him to make their phones, Peter was given the leftover money for a job well done; he had upgraded his costume. It was now made from a skin tight cloth, most likely spandex or similar. The costume was mostly blue with red gloves, boots, mid-section and mask.
Cindy reacted violently to that code name; no way was she going to be treated like a sidekick for Peter’s Parker superhero persona! “No, just no. Don’t call me that. I am Silk. Je-my girlfriend gave me this cooler name.”
Peter made the movement letting her know that he was rolling his eyes. “Whatever, what I am trying to say is that I am not like that guy in Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t beat people black and blue or break their spine.”
Cindy was about to answer when she felt the presence of someone behind them and turned toward it in a combat stance. Peter didn’t feel the same instinct until the last second as he was still focused on lecturing Cindy.
“This will get you killed one day.” A feminine voice said.
Elektra appeared from the shadows, dressed in her less slutty red and black ninja costume composed of a black and red hooded skin tight boiled leather suit with short sleeves, fitted bodice, leather bracers and leg protections. A half mask, similar to Cindy’s, protected her identity. It was her visible cold eyes that were focused on Peter that made him back off.
Cindy saw Peter visibly flinch as he placed himself between her and Elektra. “Silk, get behind me.”
Cindy arched a brow. “What for?”
Peter pointed his chin to Elektra. “She’s dangerous, aren’t your spider senses tingling?”
Cindy’s gaze bounced from Elektra and Peter before she burst into a fit of giggles. “Huhu, no. Sensei, what are you doing here?” The spider silk covered girl turned to the female ninja.
There was a certain sadness that filled the room, a sadness so heavy even Peter felt it. “Phoenix would have wanted me to keep an eye on you, that’s what I’ve been doing for the last two nights since you’ve been busy playing hero with spidey boy there.”
Cindy fell silent, her eyes misting and Elektra walked up to, embracing her in a hug.
Peter looked rather surprised and asked, “Do you know each-other?”
Stepping back from each other, Elektra let Cindy introduce her to the young man. “This is my and Phoenix’s sensei. She taught us how to fight.”
“Ah.” Peter looked at Elektra as if she was a viper or something even more venomous.
Elektra just shook her head and said urgently. “Less talking, spiderboy, call the police and an ambulance. Silk, take the flight harness off the man.”
“Yes sensei.” Cindy slightly bowed her head.
Spinning on her heel, she briskly walked to the battered and bloodied man, crouched at his side and began stripping him of the suit he wore. It was kept together on him with a lot of leather and metal harness. Three minutes later, Cindy took the piece of tech and brought it to Elektra.
Cindy presented the suit to Elektra who took it. “What are we going to do with it?” Her brown eyes focusing on the wingsuit, Elektra said absently, “Keep it, for when Jean comes back.”
This carefree little sentence punched a hole in Cindy’s heart that made her look in surprise at her combat tutor. Cindy was consumed by fear at the possibility of never seeing Jean again, which was the sole reason she had been roaming at night with Peter, taking down criminals and asking for information about her girlfriend’s abduction. To no avail as none of the petty criminals or crime families in the Queens knew about what happened.
She hadn’t given up yet, but she was getting there. But now, here was Elektra having no doubt about Jean coming back. “You are so sure of that, Sensei…”
Elektra looked Cindy in the eyes, her own brimming with confidence. “I trained her, and she has copied everything I know about my craft; I believe in her.”
“I-I do too.” Cindy stuttered.
Did she? Each time Jean spoke about the man after her, she depicted him to be extremely scary and evil. Would her girlfriend be able to come back? And if she did, would she be the same girl she loved? Cindy looked down at her hands and felt fury that she would never have thought that she was able to feel before. *How dare he? If I find that man I will do more than some damage.*
Elektra’s hand landed comfortably on Cindy’s shoulder. “Then don’t be too down and be more careful if you intend to go out at night and fight crime. You almost killed that man tonight.”
Cindy felt vindicated when she heard Elektra; she didn’t care much about this guy, after all birdman was a killer. He should understand that some other people might want to kill him too. She opened her mouth, ready to defend her reasons, “But-”
“No buts, I would have said the same to Jean. Killing is easy, but would you have been able to handle taking a life? We will never know, and I don’t expect you to know before you are mentally ready to pay that price, is that clear?” Elektra scowled, her voice brokering no arguments.
They stared at each other for over a minute before Cindy broke down first and gritted her teeth with her fists tightly closed. “Yes… sensei.”
Six minutes later, Cindy and Elektra were on the roof of B&T Electronics, overlooking the ambulance as they loaded Mister Gregory Bestman the owner of that particular enterprise toward the nearest hospital, his gunshot wound was critical. As for the Birdman, who was Mister Adrian Toomes he was being arrested and brought-in personally by Captain Stacy in his squad car.
Peter was hanging under the light sign of the building, making it seem that it was him that was responsible for stopping Toomes. But Cindy knew that news of her existence and willingness to fight crime would sooner than later spread all over the city, she was going to be ready for that attention.
# # #
November 19th, 1996
Midtown High
12:04 PM
It was lunchtime and Jessica was being a bother. Cindy was on her last straw. The pink haired girl always asked her if she was okay. Things were different when Jean wasn’t here to glue her friends all together; Jessica had reverted to being more rude, Gwen and Peter had retreated to isolate themselves and Patsy restored to being mute.
The weather was grey and windy, so it had forced the group of friends to stay indoors for lunch time. The subdued mood was getting to everyone, Cindy more than ever.
*This is getting ridiculous.* Cindy slapped her hand on the table’s surface and everyone looked at her. Gwen was the first to ask a question. “Abusing the furniture, Moon?”
Cindy ignored the obvious barb. “What’s gotten into you all?”
“Jean…” Patsy mumbled, her eyes shining ever so slightly. She looked down, returning to her food, eating almost… mechanically.
The youngest among them had been behaving strangely since Jean disappeared. Her easy smile had faded away and she had become a bit more skittish. The silence was deafening around the table. Everyone had demanded an explanation when they’d heard of Jean’s kidnapping. Cindy and Jessica had felt compelled to give an accurate story of why she had been targeted; some powered mad scientist guy wanted Jean for her powers and had been targeting her since she was a child until now when he had finally succeeded.
Gwen and Peter had nothing to say to that at the time but they looked upset. Patsy had just cried the whole time; then Peter decided to look for her at night and Cindy decided to follow and help him.
Cindy sighed wearily. She had never thought that she would fight to keep this group together. Then she looked at everyone around the table and spoke with as much eloquence she could, “I know Jean isn’t here. But do you think she will be happy that the group of friends she put together broke apart in her absence?”
For the first time Cindy saw Gwen looking... ashamed? Was it truly that? Or had she given up? Then Cindy remembered that Gwen was the daughter of a police officer and that kidnappings like Jean’s often went unresolved. The victim was never heard from again. Cindy would never give up, though. Elektra herself was sure that her first student would come back.
“When she comes back, she’s gonna smack you.” Patsy’s voice surprised everyone.
Cindy was happy that the other redhead of their group had finally spoken. Lately, she’d been really worried about her. But of course someone had to rain on her parade and ruin the moment.
“If.” Peter added with a neutral face.
Jessica and Patsy glared at him; for once it wasn’t Cindy who snapped at him for being a Debbie Downer, but Patsy. “Shut up Peter, she will come back. She has to.”
He looked at Patsy patronizingly. “You know the statistics about kidnapping, 48 hours is…”
Patsy rose from her seat and shucked her plastic fork at him. “I said shut up, she will come back.”
Peter simply moved his head on the side and avoided the projectile. Everyone in the cafeteria was watching the show they were putting on. News of Jean being snatched on her way home had spread like wildfire and an AMBER alert was released just a few days ago. AMBER was an acronym for America’s Missing: Broadcast Emergency Response. The alert was named after Amber Hagerman, a 9-year-old girl abducted and murdered in Arlington, Texas, in 1995. Since then, the system had been implemented nationwide.
Jessica took her sister’s hand and attempted to calm down. “Hey, Patsy. Sis, calm down, don’t say anything you can’t take back okay?” Jessica hoped that Patsy would let it go; she was kind of shy but when she got angry it was hard to stop her.
Patsy kept glaring at Peter who looked impassively at her, a dangerous smile playing on her lips and everyone was surprised when venomous-like words spilled out of them. “He was never her friend anyway. Always thinking he was in competition with her for Gwen. What an ingrate, after everything she did for him.”
Gwen gaped at Patsy, and as for Cindy, she wasn’t surprised. Peter kind of came across like an asshole when he spouted things like he just did.
“Well, I see that tempers are running hot…” Cindy mumbled.
Jessica, having heard Cindy, sighed heavily and stood up, once again she was going to try to be the voice of reason for everyone at this table. It wasn’t going to be easy. “Everyone, can’t you just chill? Pete, keep your opinion to yourself if you cannot read the mood; anyway you don’t know Jean like we do. She will come back.”
Gwen seemed to understand that Peter wasn’t welcome at the table for now. Not with Patsy and Cindy in that kind of mood and decided that discretion was the best part of valor. She glanced at her watch and said, “Come Peter. It’s going to be the end of lunchtime soon anyway.”
“But-” Peter was going to argue but she pulled him away from the table, and he just about grasped his backpack straps.
Jessica then turned to Cindy and sat as she said, “Hey Cindy, I know you’re trying your best to hold us together; but you were kind of heavy handed there.”
Cindy’s cheeks reddened, she was clearly not made for this touchy feely stuff. “I-I just want her to find everything she left like it was. Jess, you know she will need us when she gets back.”
Jessica chuckled sadly. “So that’s why. You can’t force people to get along.”
The asian girl looked at the pink haired hellion. “Jean can. It’s like she’s using magic to glue us all together.”
“Jean is Jean, you are you.” Patsy said. “Don’t try to mimic her, she likes you for who you are.”
Cindy found it rich that Jean’s number one fangirl was lecturing her about not mimicking her girlfriend, but she let it pass, because she understood the underlying message she wanted to tell her.
“Well said!” Jessica nodded, slapped the table and returned to eating her home cooked lunch.
After that the cafeteria slowly emptied, the girls went to their respective classes. Cindy hoped that what happened between the gang right now wasn’t going to stop them from being friends again. *Jean I’m doing what I can, can’t you hurry up and come back to us? Back to me?*
Days passed and it wasn’t until December that news about her girlfriend would reach her.
# # #
(Charles Xavier)
X-Mansion
December 14th, 1996
08:05 AM
Charles Xavier was in his office, reading the news from different newspapers from all over the USA. He had a feeling, a sense of awareness, that today wouldn’t be a good day. It was reinforced by this sense of foreboding in the air gnawing at him. The news had been slowly worsening as of late. Clinton had been reelected last month, and it was bad for the Republican party. As if it wasn't bad enough, the man kept doing things such as this Freedom of Information Act of his, intended to make U.S. government agencies’ functions more transparent so that the American public could more easily identify problems in government functioning and put pressure on Congress, agency officials, and the president to address them.
His old friends in the CIA and DOD had not been happy since. The light on his answering machine blinked, altering him he hadn’t checked his voicemail. Charles removed his glasses, frowning. Then he pressed the playback button, curious as to who might have contacted him this early in the morning.
You have one new message!
After the automated message from the machine, the familiar voice of an immortal English mutant was heard, “Charles! My dear, DEAR friend! I know technically I’m supposed to be completely blank in regards to our “secret arrangement” in that I continue my work in collecting Mutant Data for the benefit of some BIG plan you and Magneto spent years in the prepping for… But, I’ve actually been able to recall it for quite some time!”
Charles’ eyes widened, quickly examining his surroundings to ensure no one else had heard the message. He sensed no one near the door. The message continued on, not caring about his feelings at all. In the background of Mister Sinister’s call, there were sounds of combat, men crying out and stone grumbling.
“Years in fact,” The voice of the man was smug. “thanks to a previous Me being replaced by another previous Me, who remembered our short time together. Now, the reason I’ve decided to make this revelation, this little call, is because I’ve recently got myself an early christmas present.”
Sinister stopped here for effect, screeching and weapons’ fire could be heard at that moment. Charles was slowly understanding who Sinister was talking about. It had been thirty-four days since Jean Grey disappeared. John Grey had also called him to find out if there was anything he could do to save his daughter. Charles had scoured the world with Cerebro but found nothing; though he had suspected Weapon Plus or one of the groups who experimented on his kind to be responsible.
But Nathaniel having an interest in the girl was suddenly terrible news.
Sinister’s british accent was more prevalent as he seemed to panic at that moment. “A reality warping mutual acquaintance of ours, and I just want to offer a sign of trust to make sure you haven’t decided to cancel our arrangement and throw me under the bus… you haven’t, have you?!”
Crashes and explosions prevented Charles from hearing most of the message until he could hear what Sinister was getting at. “Because she’s tearing apart my base and killing my people left, right and center! She’s clearly more powerful than I had expected. How did you not know that she could lift mountains with her mind when you met her? BLOODY MOUNTAINS!”
The roar and cacophony came to a stop and Sinister continued, his tone ringing with finality. “Oh, she has killed everyone already, it’s my turn now, good bye.”
Then the answering machine stopped, leaving Charles frozen in complete shock. With a trembling hand, he opened the drawer of his desk and retrieved the special communicator that Peggy had given him. The message was clearly implicating him with Sinister. A monster who had been roaming since before the first World War. His sense of ethics and his personal friendship weighed hard on his psyche, so he couldn’t just not act- at least, not this time.
This kind of thing had a way of getting out, he couldn’t just ignore it. Even though he understood that Jean Grey was tearing apart Sinister’s base and in the process of escaping, if she learned that he had done nothing he could lose a potential ally in her too. *But then the utopia plan might get scraped too.*
After deliberating for another five minutes, Charles pressed the call button of the communicator and the wearied voice of Peggy Carter could be heard. “Charles, what can I do for you?”
He had seen how resolved Peggy Carter was in having Jean Grey back when she had come mid November, seeking his help. He had been surprised to find out that Jean Grey was hired as a consultant for SHIELD and that was because she had followed him to discover that there was a powerful unbound telepath in her vicinity with less ethics than him and willing to work with SHIELD. Charles had been disapproving all the while, and still, the protection of SHIELD hadn’t been enough and Jean Grey was taken, by other mutants.
Now Charles understood that Sinister’s own agents had captured the girl and he himself was now paying for it.
Charles’ heart was beating fast as he spoke, “Pegs… I just received a message and… I think I know who has Miss Grey. Could you come to the mansion?”
Silence. Then, in a hurried tone, she answered, “I will be there in an hour, prepare the helipad.” With that, she hung up abruptly.
“Certainly.” Charles said.
Just like he thought, today was a bad day. It was a day he’d lose a friend.
# # #
(Erik M. Lehnsherr)
X-Mansion
10:15 AM
Magneto needed answers- answers that he’d find in the house of the man he viewed as a friend, despite their diametrically opposed views on how mutants should interact with the flat scans. As he flew into the skies of the county of Westchester, the Leader of the Brotherhood recalled how he received a message on his voicemail from the one he hated the most. He had thought that it was a ploy to sow division between Charles and him, however the inclusion of Jean Grey who had been snatched up by a mutant group, made him think that this was genuine.
“Charles, did you betray me?” Magneto’s red steel gauntlet rippled thanks to his magnetic power spiraling briefly out of control but he quickly managed to calm himself down. Magneto knew the address by heart already; the place where Charles was striving to make his dream come true. Greymalkin Ln, Westchester County 1407, North Salem, NY 10560. Magneto stopped over the big three storied mansion and watched as the youth in the current roster of this institute of Charles were gallivanting around.
He recognized some of them from their constant battles with some of his own junior team in Bayville. The children were straining the bounds of his patience because of that, always threatening to reveal their races and abilities too soon. Fortunately, Erik could count on Charles to make everyone forget.
Erik slowly descended toward the lawn near the entrance of the mansion. When the kids saw him, some stepped back, wary, while the others halted completely. A brunette boy wearing a blue shirt and brown pants walked up to Erik, the distinctive ruby colored lens of his sunglasses permitted him to identify Scott Summers, the pseudo leader of this ragtag team of misfits.
“You are on private property.” The boy said firmly.
Erik looked at the boy trying to portray manliness and chuckled darkly. “I know, boy.”
Summers scowled at the condescension in the man’s voice but his wariness grew. Erik saw his hand twitch. *But it is too late for that.*
“Who are you?” The boy asked, getting into a ready stance.
“Hmm, strange. So Charles didn’t speak about me to his new batch of students? He must not think much of you.” He didn’t anticipate this. Was Charles still playing his games? Keeping secrets from his own troops? Erik didn’t like what his friend had been doing. His son and all the members of his powered group knew who he was, an army should after all have a clear chain of command.
They also knew who the X-Men were, their numbers, their HQ and the resources they could call upon. *Oh, Charles, you are raising blind fanatics.*
The boy scowled. “You-”
RAAAARGH!!! Magneto nonchalantly raised a hand and stopped the lunging clawed Logan in midair with his magnetic power. He had felt the man with the metallic skeleton coming from behind him. *The man hasn’t changed at all, always attacking like a crazed beast.*
“Logan, still as wild I see.” Erik intoned aloud.
The clear sky darkened suddenly as storm clouds gathered and a gorgeous ebony skinned woman in a tight outfit made of blue and gold spandex descended from the sky. It was like a goddess had decided to grace them the honor of gazing upon her beauty. Lightning gathered in her hand and she threw bolts at him; the boy, Summers threw himself to the right, while Magneto didn’t move at all, using his powers to ground the lightning all around him by magnetising different objects in the garden. The arcs bent and carried on through the objects and eventually reached the ground, exploding this little patch of earth and creating craters.
“So much potential squandered, Ororo.” Erik commented, looking wistfully at the beautiful woman, her white mane of hair flowed like waves as the wind picked up.
The storm goddess landed on the lawn, glaring daggers at Erik. “That’s Storm to you, Magneto.”
Erik graced her with his most dashing smile. “Oh my, you are still mad about that little incident from the last time, huh?”
“Why are you here?” Storm spat, her glare only sharper.
“I’ve come to speak with Charles about something, of course.”
A blue eyed and blonde haired young woman placed herself behind Storm and her body shone with intense yellow and orange light that radiated tremendous heat. Her blonde hair seemed ablaze with fiery light. Another student with an ice form tried to make Logan descend, Magneto let Logan fall on his ass; the man clearly wanted to go another round but a glare from Storm cowed him.
Storm’s eyes looked unfocused for an instant, a clear sign that she was now speaking with Charles through telepathy. He didn’t understand how they could let the man enter their minds so easily, they should be more wary, if what Sinister implied in his message was true, Charles wasn’t as ethical as he wanted everyone to believe.
“The professor will receive you.” Storm’s tone was full of exasperation.
Erik smiled at her. “Excellent.”
“Follow me…” Her heels clicked together and the two entered the mansion, leaving the students murming their questions, asking who that man was, and how powerful was he to toy with Logan and their teacher Ororo.
# # #
“This place hasn’t changed a lot, only minimal renovations were made.”
Erik glanced left and right, noting how the decorations seemed to be the same from the last time he had been here with the former graduates- before Charles and him disagreed most violently on what to do with Wanda, his daughter, some years ago.
“The professor wants to keep the homey feeling of this place, let the students think of it as a home away from home.” Storm informed the Brotherhood leader.
Magneto stopped before a painting. A sailing boat under the storm, rocking on the waves. “The Storm on the Sea of Galilee. Supposed to have been lost in 1990, painted by Rembrandt van Rijn in 1633.” The helmeted man said with quiet reverence.
He turned to Storm who eyed him with suspicion. “When did you find it?”
She stared at him for a second before giving him the information he desired. “We came across and helped in the arrest of the thief and Charles bought it for 70 million from the original owner. It has sentimental value for him and us, it was the last time the previous students worked together.”
Erik let his cape cover his arms and nodded at Storm. “Students who have now scattered all over the world spreading Charles’ message to any mutant they come across, is Banshee still thinking he is so funny?”
Storm harrumphed and crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Sean works at Interpol. By the way, he is looking for you, I might give him a call later.”
Erik slightly bowed, and with a smile in his voice, said, “Please do, it is your prerogative after all.”
Storm rolled her eyes and then they resumed their path toward Charles’ office which was located on the third floor. Five minutes later, Erik was finally before the office’s door and Storm opened it for him. He wasn’t surprised to find Elizabeth Margareth Carter seated before Charles.
The white haired but well preserved woman turned her eyes on Erik, then back to Charles. “Another one of your well kept secrets Charles? Consorting with a known terrorist?”
Erik had always liked the no-nonsense woman. His presence didn’t phase her in the slightest. With pleasure, Erik almost purred as he addressed her, “Elizabeth.”
Peggy glared at him, and firmly stated, “That’s Director Carter to you, Erik.”
The helmed man chuckled. “I get that a lot lately.”
He walked toward the empty seat near Peggy’s chair and sat with panache, ensuring he wasn’t sitting on his cape.
Peggy mumbled, “As you should.”
Erik heard her mumbled words, and snickered. “What a hard woman you are, you still haven’t softened since the last time we saw each other. Maybe we could fix that by going to share some drinks later?”
Scratching the surface of the wooden armrest on her chair with her nail, Peggy was grimacing, looking like someone had just placed coals in his socks. The SHIELD director blamed him for her bad luck and said clearly, “This is your fault too, Charles! I am being hit on by Magneto.”
*Any man of our generation would.* Erik thought.
Charles heaved a sigh and spoke in an attempt to defuse the situation between his two guests. “Erik, could you please stop creating problems, and tell me why you are here today?”
Magneto raised his hand and glared at the man who claimed to be his friend. “Oh, I’m creating problems?” His voice was thick with sarcasm. Erik crossed his legs and glared, continuing, “Charles, I received a call from a certain immortal British mutant some hours ago and he told me that you and I have some kind of plan that asked for his expertise and that is why we are not raiding each of his bases wherever they are. He must be dead by the way, Jean Grey will have killed him for capturing her.”
Charles was visibly sweating, looking between two of his old friends. Peggy wasn’t showing it but this discourse from Erik made her reevaluate him. After reigning in her feelings of disgust, Peggy leaned back in her seat and asked the two men, her expression full of seriousness, “Who is he? And is Jean alright? And since when do you deal with criminals, Charles?”
“Sometimes I am forced to deal with things that go beyond what my resources can provide. I am sure that as the director of a spy agency you understand me, Peggy.”
She could certainly understand, Erik too; better than anyone in this room in fact. He had to resort to connections he made in the underworld to keep his own bases stocked, and rely on Mystique’s fortune to keep his operations running. And still it smarted, that he wasn’t able to provide normally for his troops. Maybe he should listen to Mystique- she’d told him his powers had function beyond combat and building things.
Peggy finally nodded, her arms rested on the sides of the chair, shaking with nervous energy. “This… I trust you but the message you promised me to let me listen to. It might change things between us Charles. Jean is important to me, she has been an invaluable help ever since she has entered into my service.”
Charles nodded. “I am aware.”
That was interesting, so Jean worked for Peggy and not SHIELD directly. *The young woman must have negotiated a deal with Peggy, obviously, knowing that she is a powerful telepath she must have leveraged her ability for protection. The more I hear about Miss Grey, the gladder I am for not having forced her recruitment. Despite that, Peggy doesn’t know what the young woman’s goals are and mustn’t understand the scope of Jean’s power- information is power to telepath.*
Magneto chose to interrupt again. “And there’s also the fact that Charles might have messed with my memories, as I don’t recall anything about any plan Sinister was alluding to.” His words portrayed his displeasure clearly.
Charles had the decency to look sheepish. Out of nowhere, Peggy laughed out loud. “So that’s his name? Sinister? Is he some kind of James Bond villain? I hate those.”
Erik nodded, Sinister was in some ways akin to a James Bond villain, his bases kept being underground and his cloned normal personnel all wore silly uniforms and used futuristic energy weapons and most of them had bad aim. The powered ones weren’t so, though. “Nathaniel Essex, or better known in our circles as Mister Sinister. Genius Geneticist and powerful mutant in his own right, he is immortal, has super strength and a durable body, telepathy and a regeneration factor almost rivaling Logan’s.”
Charles continued, “He is also able to clone himself, normal humans and mutants. Oh. I should have linked the dots when you asked me about all those brain dead clones turning in Annandale-on-Hudson.”
Peggy took a notepad from her jacket pocket and began to slowly take notes.
The men continued to share everything they knew about Sinister. “You never know if you are eliminating the real Sinister, he is worse than Hydra was, you can never get him.” Erik chuckled, then continued. “As a matter of fact Sinister is allied with the remnants of Hydra. I wouldn’t be surprised if they share technology and technical knowhow.”
Hydra, a monolithic organization that had been around for several millennia in various forms, its latest and most known incarnation was created out of the remnants of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. It’s ideology had changed over the decades, but Hydra’s methodology had been consistent. Which was one of supremacy and elitism. Erik knew that Baron Von Strucker had survived and became the new leader, completely replacing the Red Skull.
Anyone could become a Hydra plant, now they didn’t care about the previous nazi ideology, they had recently been accepting not only Caucasians and Asians, but also recruits from other racial and ethnic groups such as blacks, mutants, genetic experiments, and the undead… *Those damn vampires should know their place.*
Peggy finished writing and looked at Erik who suddenly wished to have a drink. “Is that all?”
Putting on his most dashing smile, the helmeted man smoothly said, “There’s so much that I could tell you, Director Carter. But that information might cost you.”
The director looked at the man with disdain. “Your price?”
“Dinner with me, of course.” His answer was instant, needing no pause to contemplate.
It was as if the atmosphere froze over in the room. Peggy clenched her jaw and said in a low intonation, that brokered no doubt of what she thought of him, “Go to hell, Lehnsherr.”
“Charles you better play that tape, now.” Peggy urged the bald professor.
“Right away, Peggy.” Charles nodded and then pushed the playback button on his answering machine.
The message was the same as before, they heard the smug tone of Essex; Erik wanted to rip him a new one as he heard his voice. This was the man that put him on this road, this was one of his most hated enemies. In the background, Erik could hear the sounds of battle and destruction, it seemed that this young miss Grey was giving Essex one hell of a fight. It was satisfying to him to hear the panicked rant of the crazed mad scientist, and as the message finished, the tone of resignation in Essex’s voice as he would clearly face death.
Nonetheless, Erik was surprised. Jean Grey was an omega level mutant and a reality warper at that? He could see it. Peggy looked mystified for a while, her gaze on Charles growing colder, harder, as the seconds passed. “The only reason I am not putting my gun against your temple,Charles is that it would worsen the situation for those under your care. You have been dealing with a man who has terrorized a young girl for years and wanted to do unspeakable things to her. I wish we could have a way to monitor you, but you have the old boys club protecting you, it wouldn’t stick. Frankly, I am disappointed in you.”
Charles stayed mum, but his downcast eyes and tightened fists told a story to Erik. Charles liked to conform to the appearances of a wise man that could do no wrong, but deep down he was as sly as Erik.
“Give me the tape.” Peggy commanded, her tone harbouring no room for any objections.
“Yes.” Charles hurried, removing the tape from his answering machine and sliding it to Peggy over his desk.
The woman stared at him for over a minute after placing the tape in the inner pocket of her jacket. “Do you have anything to say? That you could defend and justify yourself with.”
Charles shook his head. “I feel guilty enough as it is.” The bald man said in a strongly emotive voice.
Peggy harrumphed. “But not ashamed.”
Erik saw that Charles wisely kept silent and decided to weather the storm. But Peggy took it differently, like validation of her new understanding of what Charles Xavier was about.
“Your silence speaks louder than words Charles. I understand why Jean Grey hates you now. I will take my leave.” Peggy turned on her heel, slamming Charles’ office door as she exited. Erik waved his hand and the bugs that Peggy had left under the chair lifted from it; they floated innocently between him and Charles. “What a woman,.I wish I had met her during the war.”
“I have lost a friend today.” Charles lamented, loosening the tie of his black suit.
Erik leaned back in his chair, shooting daggers at his bold friend. “Charles we know you are always at risk of that, you think of yourself as a chessmaster, but you are more of a schemer. Now, answer me truthfully, did you manipulate my memories?”
Charles opted to not lie, simply placing his hand before him and linked them by threading together his fingers, staring into Erik’s eyes. “I did what I had to. The Utopia project is more important than you think, and you wanted to take charge. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Erik understood, but it seemed that there was something more that Charles wasn’t saying. “I see, tell me, why shouldn’t I stop being polite, Charles?”
Charles gazed at Erik with sadness. “Erik whatever I might have done, I am working for the good of our people. I am sure you can understand. You are a dangerous man, smart but clearly blind to see that his action will clearly make the normals demonize us. I-I couldn’t let it happen.”
Erik chuckled, uncrossing his legs. “You are the second person to tell me so, Jean Grey in fact was the first. I like that girl, she has seen through you and your dream. I am happy that she is such a down to earth and savvy young woman.”
Through the window of the office, Erik felt the gathering of numerous vehicles at the entrance of the property. It was time to skedaddle. Peggy must have called in reinforcements to try to take him.
Charles looked surprised by Erik’s admission. “When did you meet her?”
The helmeted man stood up, his cape swishing. “That doesn’t concern you, Charles. I must now take my leave. And Charles?”
At his name, he looked up to his long time friend and waited for his words with baited breath.
Erik smiled and with a predatory expression said, “If you go into my head and mess with it again I will burn everything you hold dear, my friend.”
Charles nodded. “Understood.”
Erik turned, walking to the door at a brisk pace, not wanting to be caught by Peggy’s task force. As Magneto, Erik was the target of many groups with different interests and he couldn’t permit himself to be captured, never again.
“Well at least he didn’t slam the door.” Charles said to no one in particular.
# # #
Back with Jean…
I felt myself floating, the sensation strangely soothing. Then, suddenly everything that had happened to me came back in a flash of memories. Panicking, I tried to move, to open my eyes, and I did. I was in some sort of pod with green liquid and cables all over my body and a certain intimate place. I couldn’t use my powers, they didn’t react like I wanted to.
[Happiness: Back you are!] The familiar mind voice of my second best friend rang in my head.
*Goldie! Girl, where are we?* I was floating in green liquid and I could see the room outside but it was all one blurred image to me.
[Rage, Anger: The bad man took us.] Goldie informed me, showing me Sinister.
My heartbeat spiked. Wow okay that was bad news, Sinister has us. *I see, why can’t I move?*
[Sadness, Anger: He broke things.]
Image and feelings were transmitted to me, Sinister breaking my back when I was given to him. A dark and heady feeling of anger threatened to take me over, but I didn’t let it. I channeled it into one purpose- get better and go on a killing spree with no holds barred. *Goldie, can you do anything about it?*
[Uncertainty: I can. Sustenance needed. But leave, I must, to find it.]
This was good news. *You have my permission to leave, oh and is that sustenance people?*
I recalled what Venom did to people and what happened after he ate them.
[Truthful: Yes]
I smiled or at least tried to, with the mask on my mouth. *Goldie, eat as much as you can, but stay stealthy. Eat those motherfuckers, leave the bad man to me though, alright?*
Golden goo oozed out of my body and floated to the ceiling of the pod and escaped it through some apertures I wasn’t able to see. Then Goldie was outside and took the form of a golden snake that slithered across the floor.
*Go Goldie, go.*
