ax_main | Nick, Scott, Jean, Clarice, and Ororo: Plot

Tragedy strikes the Gleason household the day after Christmas. The X-Force is hastily assembled to respond and rescue Nick.

Warning: While not graphic, this log might be upsetting for some people.

Nick fumbled the door open and flung it open, dashing out into the cold winter's night. His eyes were blurred with tears. The gunshots were still ringing in his ears. Nothing could have ever prepared him for this. Someone had seen him come home. He hadn't brought an image inducer. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was his fault. With everything in the news, Nick had thought maybe people were ready to see mutants. But no. His legs were carrying him in a random direction; anywhere but here. His heart was pounding in his chest. The snow was ankle-deep, and he fumbled his phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it. Help. He needed help. He'd call 911 later. Someone he knew could help him sooner. He had Xavier on speed dial.

When the professor picked up the phone, Nick didn't wait to hear his voice. "Help! Please! My parents, someone." He was short of breath, the words coming haltingly as he ran. "Fire. Shot. They shot my. My parents. Help! Please!" Nick nearly yelled into the phone.

Almost before Nick had been able to finish his panicked description of his current situation, Professor Xavier contacted Clarice and instructed her to meet him in the sub-basement, beside the secure access doors to Cerebro. She was an obvious choice for the advantages she enjoyed in terms of mobility, but they would also need one of the better-trained students to fill in as group leader for this extraction. Luckily, Scott, Ororo, and Jean were all in the same general location, and while the latter two students might not be as well-practiced as Cyclops, their raw potential made them more than a match for any mundane threat. Based on the use of firearms in the attack, it seemed a safe enough presumption to assume this was exactly that.

While the trio of students visiting the Greys for the holiday remained within Xavier's effective telepathic range, Nick was most certainly not. And they would need whatever details could be gleaned from the frightened boy's mind to assist him most effectively. Once in the secure lower levels of the school and connected to the sophisticated machinery of Cerebro, the Professor neatly slotted the information she would need to teleport to the front door of Jean's parents' home, and waved for her to proceed. As she vanished with a blink, he reached out over the intervening miles for the familiar presence of Scott Summers' mind.

Scott. An emergency situation has developed. You and the others are needed, he sent, at almost the same moment as Clarice began knocking on the front door of the strange, yet uncannily familiar, house before which she had appeared.

Charles Xavier's was the only mental presence that Scott was particularly familiar with - Jean was scrupulous in her respect of his mental privacy, typically, as was Tessa as far as he could tell - but it still came as a shock when it came upon him by surprise. But his expression quickly shifted from slight confusion to contemplative and concerned. He was already in motion as the Professor finished, grabbing his visor out of his bag, running back to the common areas, and skidding around the corner to where he'd last seen the girls. Thank fuck, none of Jean's family was in there with them. "The Professor just, uh, called." What did you call it when someone telepathically IM'd you? "There's an emergency."

He heard faint knocking at the door, and jerked his heads towards it. "And I think that's our ride."

"What kind of emergency?" Ororo asked, setting down her mug and getting to her feet.

The Professor downloading info into his brain was supremely disconcerting but also incredibly helpful. "Something has happened to Nick. Up at his house. He's being attacked."

Jean set her cider on the coffee table as well, frowning. She didn't know Nick well at all, but that didn't matter. If someone was in trouble, they had to help. "My folks and Sara are going to be at the movies for a while," she said, heading for the door. "I'll leave them a note, just in case."

The door opened upon an unusually grim-looking Clarice, who only said, "Hang on," prior to the blink and the brilliant flash of pink which transported the four of them to another strange house in an entirely different part of the country. The house stood, still lit from the inside, but with an ominous smoldering glow beginning beneath the front windows which suggested fire, even before the island girl took notice of the streamers of smoke wafting through the door, which still hung ajar. Not really having any idea how to proceed, she looked toward Scott and Ororo.

Traveling with Clarice was something else. He felt as though he'd been sucked through a straw of time and space, blinking out of and then back into existence. That was a hell of a ride. Scott looked around the scene, taking in the house, either newly on fire or only just starting to die down. If it was just starting, they might stand a chance of stopping it before it endangered people, but...no, those blackened areas were embers, not smoke-damaged. At least, that was how it looked to him. If anyone had been inside, they were likely too late.

Ororo's eyes had gone full white the moment they appeared in front of the house on fire, and clouds began to amass above the house, dark and ominous. Rain would be welcome. "Is Nick in there?"

"No." Jean had gone pale at the devastation. She couldn't imagine what had happened. "I can..." She swallowed and let her shields down minutely. Nick's terror slammed against her consciousness so forcefully that she staggered. "Nick's that way," she managed, pointing.

Nick was still running, unaware of the team's arrival, heading away from them. He yelped as a gunshot splintered the bark of a tree near him, starting to zigzag as he ran, hoping it was enough to keep the gunman from getting a bead on him. Two men were pursuing him, pausing occasionally to make sure they were still on his tail.

Face still set in that unhappy mask that didn't sit quite right on her usually laid-back features, Clarice said, "I can take us closer, maybe, but I'll be jumpin' around in the dark with no idea where I'm goin', other than a general direction. We might end up overshootin' him. What do you think, Scott?"

The house fire still wasn't out, so Storm would have to stay behind, but he wasn't going to leave anyone alone. "Jean, Storm, stay here. Take care of the fire, and watch each other's backs. When the fire is out, scan for survivors and then get in touch."

He looked at Jean, and tapped his head. It'd be easier for her to reach out to him than Nick, because he was likely calmer than the younger boy and she was more familiar with him in any case.

"We will be able to tell you where we're at. Clarice and I will...blink over to as close as we can get to Nick."

"This won't take long," Ororo told them, her focus on the clouds as heavy rain started to splatter all over the area. Focusing it solely on the house on fire would have taken more finesse, and longer to achieve, and it would have been a lot more conspicuous, beside.

Jean caught Scott's gaze. "Be careful. I caught a split second of another presence while I had my shields down. It wasn't friendly."

And then she was trying to focus on the moment, using her TK to haul snow over the fire.

Another gunshot rang out, and the ground next to Nick spat up a heap of dirt as the bullet impacted near him, and he yelped again as he ran, ducking behind the short wall surrounding the park he'd run toward. He was glad the park was still standing; he hadn't seen it for about eight years, and a lot could change in eight years. He scurried along the low brick wall, glad for the support it provided him, but the two gunmen were gaining on him.

"Hang on, I gotta reload," he heard one of them grumble, even with his ears ringing. Nick's chest was pounding, his lungs burning. He'd never run so fast in his life. And god, his parents. His parents. Someone had to save his parents...

Not friendly. Well, Clarice wasn't feeling all that friendly just then, herself. Nodding, she rested a hand on Scott's shoulder, and the two of them blinked away.

They reappeared in a flash beside a low stone wall in what looked like some kind of park. Clarice got low immediately, letting her eyes adjust to the dark and listening for the small sounds that might reveal where Nick--or his attackers--might be.

Scott took a moment to get his bearings and to scan the immediate area. His non-visual senses were unusually good (though nothing compared to some other mutants); the silver lining, he guessed, to having been forced to spend a lot of time with his eyes shut.

Ultimately, though, what gave away the unfriendly presence was the crack of a gunshot. Gesturing for Clarice to follow, he ran towards the sound.

Nodding, Clarice fell in behind Scott. She occasionally blinked off to the right or left, or slightly ahead, attempting to catch a glimpse of something--anything--that would give them a line on Nick. Or the people shooting at him. When she caught the movement of a shadow in her peripheral vision, she did not hesitate; she immediately threw a portal open in front of it, the end point of which would have the figure moving perpendicular to the course she and Cyclops now ran, and a few feet ahead. If it were Nick, then at least she would be close enough to take them all back to the house. If not, well, she and Scott both had good reflexes. "Incoming," she told him by way of warning.

Nick ended up falling his way through the portal, startled by its appearance but recognizing it for what it was, landing on all fours beside Clarice and Scott. "P-please," Nick said, through his tears. "M-my parents." His chest was hitching with sobs, and it was hard to get words out.

Back at Nick's house, the fire was nearly under control, thanks to a very unnatural application of rain and snow, but sirens were coming closer. "Is there anyone in there?" Ororo asked her friend, assuming that she could feel them if they were.

Jean shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I've been scanning. If there's anyone in there, they're not alive." She looked over her shoulder, though the source of the sirens wasn't in sight yet. "Should... we try to get them out anyway? For Nick?"

Ororo hesitated, then shook her head. "We let the authorities handle it. We don't want to be caught here, and they might need our help over there. Can you guide us?"

Jean nodded, reaching for Ororo's hand. "I'm picking up snatches of other people's thoughts," she said. The shock in her voice was giving way to anger. "They did this. And they're hunting Nick."

Ororo had been ready to go by foot, but Jean's last words changed that. "Let's fly." Speed and efficiency over discretion.

"Y-you have to h-help my parents," Nick sobbed at Clarice and Scott, not even picking himself up off the ground. "Th-they g-g-got shot," he sobbed. He pushed himself to the ground and covered his head and ears, though, as another gunshot cracked through the night air.

"I think I hear 'em," someone said, voice distant. "He's close, c'mon." Nick's sharp ears could hear rounds being loaded into a rifle.

Scott's ears weren't as good as Nick's, but he could hear something, and given that the soft sounds in the distance weren't accompanied by Jean's mental touch, he wasn't going to trust that they were friendly.

He reached down with one hand to help tug Nick up, the other still free and up at his visor, just in case. "You gotta get up. We have to move."

Nick's movements were sluggish, but Scott's tug got him moving more than anything else. He stuck close to Scott's side, and he was still crying. He kept his arms at his sides, suppressing the urge to simply cling to Scott. "O-okay," Nick managed to get out, swallowing. He felt like he was going to vomit. Had he already vomited? He wasn't sure. He felt like maybe he had.

The bastards who did this are closing in on you guys. Jean's mental presence brushed against Scott and Clarice's mind, burning bright and angry. Ororo and I are on the way, but be careful. They're armed and they mean to kill.

"I can prob'bly give you a distraction, then 'port Nick back to Jean's folks," Clarice suggested quietly to Scott. Her expression dark, but controlled. "Just please don' go easy on 'em."

"Read my mind," Scott murmured in response. "Don't worry about the distraction, though. Just get him to safety. The school if you can, the Greys' if you can't."

"If I can," Clarice huffed indignantly. She reached out to take Nick gently by the shoulder, then glanced toward Scott's ruby visor again. "Take care of yourself. And Ororo and Jean. I'll be back soon." The two mutants disappeared in a brief whirl of pink light with a distinct blink.

With Nick taken care of, Cyclops could turn his attention to the other problem at hand. Scott was still, and quiet, for a moment. Listening. As the fuckers who'd caused all this drew closer, their footsteps crunched over sticks and snow. Any minute now. How far out are you two? He asked Jean.

Almost on top of you. Jean's presence was definitely stronger. We should be there in a few seconds. But that triggered a thought. Maybe we should land, Ororo. Someone looking up at the wrong time and getting off a lucky shot would be the worst damn luck.

They hit the ground seconds later, Ororo's thermal vision allowing her to make them land a little way from anyone. What does Scott want us to do? she thought at Jean, seeing no reason to talk out loud when this would be enough.

They were closing in on him. Cyclops felt eerily calm about it. He dug his boot in and rested his hand very lightly on the trigger to his visor.

Jean, if they haven't caught on that you guys are here yet, stay hidden until they begin engaging me, he said. Better to coordinate before they got here, than to have to do it under the gun. Literally. It gives you the element of surprise. If they already know you're here, then get to me, and we'll meet them head on.

He saw the glint of moonlight on metal, just in time, and got down as a rifle was fired. Scott spun low, and turned on his attacker, firing an optic blast that would break his lower leg but hopefully not amputate it.

Jean had been about to pass on the message when there was the crack of the rifle shot, followed by a narrow beam of red light, glowing like fire in the dark. Jean's anger flowed through her mental link to Storm. Like hell these sons of bitches were killing anyone else tonight!

Time to engage. Jean let her shields down, let herself into the mind of the nearest of them, and linked him to the man currently screaming over his shattered ruin of a leg. A second set of screams filled the night.

Over the sound of the screams, police car and fire truck sirens filled the nearby air, with flashing lights nearby indicating the emergency services had arrived and police were beginning to mobilize to search the area.

Head on it was, then. Sirens split the air, and Scott knew just limited their time was about to be. Non-lethal if possible and discrete if we can, but we have to move fast. We don't want to end up talking to cops.

He suspected Storm was on the same page, but until it was obvious she wasn't, he didn't want to shout and draw even more police attention in their direction. Cyclops bounced a beam off a nearby tree, hitting one of their assailants' hands and shattering bone. He wouldn't be shooting for awhile, that was for damn sure.

Lightning crackled around Storm's hands, and she shot the electricity at the form of the nearest man. She'd spent long hours in the Danger Room figuring out how to disable without doing lasting harm, and hopefully this wouldn't be too much for him, she thought as he crumpled to the ground.

Two more, fortunately neither armed with more than knives. Cyclops took out one's forearm with near-surgical precision, trusting Phoenix and Storm to handle the other.

"We need to lay low until our ride gets back," he murmured to them. "Somewhere out of sight."

Jean frowned in concentration, reaching out for the minds of those who had murdered Nick's parents. Their pain and panic was a distraction. She couldn't make them forget they were there, but she could make them think they had run.

"I think we're out of sight now," she murmured.

Scott's eyebrows rose. He'd been ready to begin beating a path through the woods, but this was far better as it saved Clarice the trouble of finding them. Plus, it was a hell of a telepathic display. He was clearly impressed. "Good job."

"You're the best," Ororo told her friend with a small smile. "When is Blink coming back?"

As if the words had summoned her, there was a distant flash of pink and an audible blink. Clarice appeared in a low crouch, looking about warily for any immediate signs of danger--or of the teammates she had been obliged to leave behind. She avoided calling out; Jean would know when she returned readily enough, and would let her know their current situation as soon as she was able. In the meantime, the island mutant remained poised to teleport again at a moment's warning, and a pair of energy javelins sparked between her fingers.

Clarice! Jean mentally called to her, linking all four of their minds, no deeper than surface thoughts. We're over here. Is Nick... was he hurt?

He's fine, Clarice thought back, surprised at how quickly she was getting used to Jean's disembodied voice in her head--but high-adrenaline situations like this one caused a person to adjust quick, she supposed. At least, he ain' wounded or anythin'. He's freakin' out about his parents, though. Any good news there? Somehow, between Nick's state of near-hysteria and the fact nobody had stayed back a the house, she doubted she was going to like what came next.

They are dead, came Ororo's quiet, steady thought. We killed the fire. They are being taken care of. Time to go home? The thought was, somehow, directed at Scott.

Let's go, he told them all, his mind calm and resolved. There was nothing to be gained by staying.