Approx 3am, Kennedy Airport [Tuesday Morning Fandom-Time]
It was weird how used he was to this insane schedule, with planes leaving and arriving at all hours as they hopped across the country to Graydon Creed's various speaking engagements. He was in the back of the limo with the man himself and Carly Alvarez, talking strategy in the minutes before the presidential candidate was supposed to board his private jet when Creed looked at him and asked,
"Do you believe the sins of one generation are passed to the next?"
"How do you mean?" Bobby raised an eyebrow, not seeing where this was going.
"Let's say if a father behaves a certain way, do you believe the son will as well?" Creed asked as he stepped outside into the cold nighttime air.
"No. Why do you-" Bobby started to say as he followed.
"Good, Robert. Then I'd like you to help me solve a little problem. Out there in the clearing, that's where my problem is."
Bobby took the first step slowly, cautiously. But as he got closer, he realized there was something wrong. Felt it in his heart. Suddenly, he understood what Creed had been asking. He hadn't been talking about him and his own father, Sabertooth- but about Bobby and his father. After he stood up for mutants during Trish's newscast, Creed's people must've found out who he was. Must've figured like father, like son. He used my real name, not the fake one I've been using, he thought, breaking in to a run.
He stopped when he saw it, lying just beyond the edge of the tree line. No, not it. Him. His father's body, crumpled, bleeding, broken- Still breathing, Bobby let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as he took in the slight rise and fall of his father's chest in the dim moonlight.
"I didn't- didn't tell 'em anything, Bobby," the wheezing as William Drake tried to talk was- alarming.
"Dad, shh," Bobby said urgently, cradling his father's head in his lap.
"Shussh, yourself. Didn't tell- your secret. Just wanted y' to know- you're safe, son. You're safe."
But what about you? Oh god, this is all my fault, Bobby thought to himself. Awkwardly, he fumbled for his cell phone. His first instinct was to call Raven or Karla, someone who could just fix this, make it better.
"We're sorry, the number you have called cannot be completed as dialed. Please check the area code and number and try again."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. That had been happening more often than not on this last trip home, he didn't know if it was the mess with Portalocity screwing with his phone or- whatever. But he knew better than to try anyone else in Fandom. 911 and regular human medicine would have to do the trick.
Or so he hoped.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, blah blah. Swiped from Uncanny X-Men #340. some mild violence under the cut.]
"Do you believe the sins of one generation are passed to the next?"
"How do you mean?" Bobby raised an eyebrow, not seeing where this was going.
"Let's say if a father behaves a certain way, do you believe the son will as well?" Creed asked as he stepped outside into the cold nighttime air.
"No. Why do you-" Bobby started to say as he followed.
"Good, Robert. Then I'd like you to help me solve a little problem. Out there in the clearing, that's where my problem is."
Bobby took the first step slowly, cautiously. But as he got closer, he realized there was something wrong. Felt it in his heart. Suddenly, he understood what Creed had been asking. He hadn't been talking about him and his own father, Sabertooth- but about Bobby and his father. After he stood up for mutants during Trish's newscast, Creed's people must've found out who he was. Must've figured like father, like son. He used my real name, not the fake one I've been using, he thought, breaking in to a run.
He stopped when he saw it, lying just beyond the edge of the tree line. No, not it. Him. His father's body, crumpled, bleeding, broken- Still breathing, Bobby let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as he took in the slight rise and fall of his father's chest in the dim moonlight.
"I didn't- didn't tell 'em anything, Bobby," the wheezing as William Drake tried to talk was- alarming.
"Dad, shh," Bobby said urgently, cradling his father's head in his lap.
"Shussh, yourself. Didn't tell- your secret. Just wanted y' to know- you're safe, son. You're safe."
But what about you? Oh god, this is all my fault, Bobby thought to himself. Awkwardly, he fumbled for his cell phone. His first instinct was to call Raven or Karla, someone who could just fix this, make it better.
"We're sorry, the number you have called cannot be completed as dialed. Please check the area code and number and try again."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. That had been happening more often than not on this last trip home, he didn't know if it was the mess with Portalocity screwing with his phone or- whatever. But he knew better than to try anyone else in Fandom. 911 and regular human medicine would have to do the trick.
Or so he hoped.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, blah blah. Swiped from Uncanny X-Men #340. some mild violence under the cut.]