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Title: The New Mutants II, Volume XIX: Reunion
Author: kanedax
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse, plus other Marvel ‘verses
Rating: R for language and violence
Spoilers: X3, New Mutants I & II
Summary: Storm has a bad idea.
Notes: Boy, I hope this chapter ties up some loose ends. Not all, but a lot. At least, at least they hopefully get tied up without your brain going pop. As usual, I don’t own the X-Men, Marvel Comics, 20th Century Fox, or a well-trained immune system. Cough cough hack hack.
Previous Chapter (Neutralized) / Next Chapter (Taking Sides)
“Have I sarcastically mentioned that this is a great idea yet?”
“A few times, yes,” Ororo said through the headset.
“Well, allow me to repeat it,” Forge said into the microphone. “We’re flying into New York City, riding two Secret Service helicopters, both of which are probably stolen. And we, wanted fugitives, are planning to land in the middle of chaos, chaos that will probably be swarming with military and genetically altered soldiers. Am I on the button?”
“You’re on the button.”
“Yup,” Forge muttered sarcastically, “This is a great plan.”
“Can you think of a better one?” Sean asked from beside him.
“I’ve already said it a dozen times,” replied Forge. “The kids are at the Raft. We go to the Raft and bust them out.”
“And how do we know they’re at the Raft?”
“Beeecaaaause that’s where they keep us super-powered types.”
“We don’t know that,” Ororo replied. “We know that’s where they kept the Maximoffs. We also know that they brought in two X-Men to re-design the security system after Phoenix attacked it. Now that they have X-Men in custody, why would they want to put them in a prison that was designed by someone who would want to break them out?”
“Well, it’s still a good place to start,” Forge said.
“We don’t have the manpower to grasp at straws,” said Ororo sharply. “If anyone knows where they’re being held, it’s the Defenders. And they’re down there right now, where we’re going.”
“And they won’t attack us as soon as we show up?”
“They might,” said Ororo, “but something tells me they have enough on their plates right now. They’ll need our help, and that might be enough to get them to relent.”
“Are we still pointed in the right direction, Jones?” Sean asked.
“They still haven’t left the city,” replied Jones. “You should be able to see the smoke.”
“Location?”
“CNN’s showing him at Rockefeller Center.”
“Shit,” Logan growled. “He’s into tourist trap central.”
“Hopefully we can stop him before he gets to Times Square,” Forge said, “Otherwise it will be tourist trap central.”
“Defender’s slowed him down,” said Jones. “He’s still five blocks away.”
“Five blocks for Bruce is nothing,” explained Peter.
“Also, explain to me again why bringing two of the prime suspects along is a good thing?” fumed Forge.
“Peter has more hands-on experience with them than anyone,” Ororo explained. “Plus, unless he’s been blowing smoke up our asses, he has a rapport with them. It’s not much, but it might help.”
“Plus he hits things really hard,” Logan interjected. “And Rogue has more firepower than the rest of us combined.”
“Not helping with the confidence much back here, Logan,” Rogue mumbled, rumpling the mask between her gloved hands nervously.
“It was a compliment, kiddo.”
“I’m kind of limited,” she explained. “Can’t fly yet. Can’t make any fire without burning my clothes off, and I’m not ready to be that, you know, exposed to national television cameras.”
“You can still teleport,” replied Logan. “You still have the healing factor, the steel skin, the phasing. You can still make ice.”
“Not with the gloves,” she said, holding her arms out. “Bobby and I both can only make ice when our hands are uncovered. I love you all, but I’m not giving any of my skin down there. I had a hard enough time with Johnny in my head. None of us want Big Green in there, or in my body.”
“You’ll do fine,” said Peter, taking her hand. She looked at him, smiled uncomfortably, and then looked back down again.
“Well, at least you’ll make a fashion statement,” Ororo said. “NYU sweatshirt, jeans, lacy gloves, and a Lucha mask.”
“A what mask?” asked Logan.
“It’s a wrestling thing,” she explained.
“Never pegged you for the wrestling type,” Rogue said.
“I’m not,” said Ororo. “I actually picked it up from a cartoon that I watched when I was a kid about a school for wrestlers. Weird show.”
“Weird mask,” she said, holding it up. “You’re sure Mr. Parker doesn’t mind me using it?”
“I’m just surprised he brought it at all,” said Ororo.
“I’m not,” Logan said. “Guy wants to protect his family. When he knew he might have to fight, he probably grabbed it instinctively. The whole costume, whatever that is.”
“Unless he’s been making new ones he probably won’t have much use for it anyway,” said Ororo. “Age has definitely worked against him. He used to have a really nice body.”
“A nice body, huh?” Logan snickered.
“I saw pictures,” Ororo said quickly.
“Well, I suppose any hormonally-charged teenage girl would look at a guy in tight spandex and go right for the pecs.”
“It wasn’t like that,” said Ororo, adding: “Besides, it was the abs, not the pecs.”
“Or the package…”
“Cram it.”
“I wouldn’t tell MJ about your crush, if I were you,” he teased. “She looks like a hair puller.”
“Can we not be having this conversation right now?” Jones interrupted loudly into their headphones. “It’s almost game time.”
“Someone on this team can sew, right?” Rogue said, looking at the mask. “I think I’m going to need an alteration that’ll have to be fixed later.”
“Like what?” asked Peter.
“Too much hair,” she said. “It won’t fit in the mask. Not comfortably, at least.”
Logan flipped his clawed hand and held his other hand out. “Give.”
“I’m seeing the smoke,” Sean said.
Forge nodded. “We’ll be on the ground in two minutes. Jones, anything else you need to let us know about?”
“Besides the fact that this guy is royally pissed?” Jones said soberly. “I can say that there are bodies.”
“Fuck,” Forge mumbled.
“Something tells me we’re seeing the end of the Defenders,” said Sean. “No way they’ll be able to get any support after this.”
“Stark’s slimy,” Rogue said. “Even Johnny thought so. If anyone can weasel their way out of this, it’s him.”
Where are you going to want me? came a robotic voice from behind them. Sean turned to see Jono Starsmore, his hand clapped over his wrist keyboard, a rifle slung across his lap.
“Same place as Forge,” Sean said. “Well back. You two are both armed with enough tranquilizers to take down a herd of elephants. If you get a clear shot at Banner, take it.”
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Forge said soberly. “This probably isn’t the best place for your first time.”
I’m fine with it, Jono typed. Everyone else has been fighting for the Academy, for the X-Men. I wanted to give my share. Besides, I’m probably more of a help here than I am back at the island.
Sean closed his eyes and sighed. He was nervous about the island. They left Remy and Kurt behind, along with Theresa, who had fought Sean furiously about it. Eventually they relented, knowing that the island needed protection, especially with four unarmed humans and four mutants that weren’t ready for battle. Between LeBeau, Wagner, and Blaire, as well as Parker, who wasn’t leaving his family alone, he figured they were in safe hands.
That his daughter was in safe hands.
Besides, Kurt was a teleporter, Sean thought. He could get them out quickly if things went bad.
Tony Stark flew out of Bruce Banner’s reach as Bruce, hospital gown tatters hung over his giant green body, swung the giant golden arm of Prometheus at him. Amid the screams of the bystanders and the crashing of debris, he heard two helicopters whirling in the distance.
“Dugan!” he yelled. “Are those ours? I told you, no aircraft! Your men are here to keep the crowd under control, but otherwise we clean our own mess, you got that?”
“Those aren’t our aircraft, sir,” Dugan replied as Tony saw them for the first time. “We’re scrambling to get them out of the area.”
“Wait,” he said, pressing a few buttons on his wrist controller. His scanners zoomed towards the helicopters, closing in on the two faces in one of cockpits. A small HUD opened in the corner of his vision.
Name: Glendon Forge
Current Affiliation: X-Men
Previous Affiliation: United States Marine Corp
Name: Sean Cassidy
Current Affiliation: X-Men
Previous Affiliation: Muir Island Research Facility
“Call off your fighters,” Stark said. “Let them land.”
“Sir?”
“Just do it,” he said sharply, then closed off Dugan. “Sue, take down your shield.”
“What?” Reed, who was wrapped around Banner’s legs, yelled. “And let him out?”
“Tony, this is as large of a field as I’ve ever raised,” said Susan. “It’s taking everything I have just to keep it up. I don’t know if I’ll be able to put another one up again, at least one that’ll give you guys this much room to fight.”
“We’ll deal,” said Tony as the helicopters hovered nearby. “We have company. Let them in.”
“Susan, don’t,” Reed said, hoping he was looking the right direction at her. Bruce howled and tried once again to kick Reed free from his legs, and Reed grunted as he was stretched tighter.
“Go ahead, Suze,” came a voice from behind them. A mountain of cement fell away, and Ben Grimm pulled himself free from the wreckage. “I can keep him from breaking out.”
“Are you sure?” asked the invisible Susan.
“I tried to help him,” said Ben, wiping his hand across his rock-covered jaw. “He threw me into a wall. Now I’m grumpy.”
“Just do it, Richards,” said Tony.
The cameras are rolling, he thought to himself as the force field pulled back and the mutants began to jump from the hovering choppers. This has to be perfect.
“I can’t find anywhere to land,” Storm said into the headset as Wolverine, Rogue, and Colossus jumped from the side door to the ground below. “Forge, you have anything?”
“Not yet,” Forge replied, looking down at the swarm of hysteria. “Too many people.”
“Damn,” Storm muttered. “As long as we’re in the air I’m no good to anyone. Can’t whip up a small breeze, let alone any activity that’ll make an impact.”
“Hold up,” said Forge. “There’s a pocket opening up about twenty feet over. The people are clearing out of the way.”
“You’re kidding me. In all this?”
“No joke,” he replied. “I suggest we take advantage of their hospitality.”
As Forge and Storm carefully maneuvered their helicopters through the street, Storm couldn’t help but be amazed. Below them, every human being was running in terror. Yet, somehow, they seemed to be actively avoiding this patch of asphalt. She shrugged it off, fully aware that she shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “We’re safe with them here, right?”
“Nothing’s taking these choppers unless I say so,” said Jones. “Go kick some ass.”
“Hey, Tin Man!” Ben said jovially as Colossus jumped on top of Bruce.
“Hello, Ben,” Colossus replied, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s neck. As he did so, Bruce kicked his leg out, finally freeing himself from Reed’s grasp. Reed shot across the street, a rubber band released from a finger.
“Look, kid,” Ben grunted. “Sorry about all the shit that’s been going on. Seriously, you know that I know that you guys didn’t do nothing wrong. You’re a good kid.”
“Later,” groaned Peter, planting his feet into the ground as Bruce tried to break away toward the crowd. Ben joined him, and the two wrestled the beast briefly to the ground.
“Those are your friends we have, right?” Ben said as he held down one of Bruce’s arms.
“Where are they?”
“I’m not supposed to say, kid, sorry,” Ben said. Bruce howled in anger and lifted his arms, smashing Ben and Peter together and knocking them loose. As he grunted to his feet, he looked up in confusion as the sky above Rockefeller Center darkened.
“Storm’s a-brewin’,” Ben said, his head swimming.
“We should move,” Peter said, grabbing Ben’s arm. “Now.”
As the two dove out of the way, a gigantic bolt of lightning flew down from the sky. It struck the arm of the golden statue that was clutched in Banner’s hand, and Bruce’s eyes lit up with a white glow. He fell to his knees, his black hair and eyebrows smoking.
“He’s still moving,” Wolverine growled as he watched Banner regain his feet.
“Electricity doesn’t work,” Susan said from next to him. “We tried using shock treatments on him early on to get him under control, but they didn’t have much of an effect.”
Logan’s fist tightened, and his claws flipped out. “Can he be cut?”
“Only with adamantium,” Susan explained, “but…”
Logan sprinted towards the giant green man, howling his battle cry. He jumped at Bruce and stuck the claws into his chest. Bruce looked down at the little man and snarled. He grabbed Wolverine by the head and flung him towards the wall, where he collided with a dull thump and collapsed.
“…But it’ll just make him angry,” Susan groaned. She threw her hands out, trying to create a strong enough force field to isolate Banner, at least long enough for the Defenders and the X-Men to pull together a second assault. Banner ran forward, but bounced back as he struck the field. Susan could feel the impact in her own body, her energy draining away with each punch that Bruce threw at his invisible prison.
“Forge, Jono, get on either side of him,” she heard from above. She looked up to see a man she had never met, a middle-aged redhead, floating above her. He was armed with an assault rifle. She looked to her sides to see two men, each with parts of their bodies made of, or covered in, metal, carrying identical rifles.
Wait, stop, she wanted to yell. Bullets don’t work on him. But as she opened her mouth, she realized that she was too weak to even say the words. Too weak to even stand. She dropped to her knees, throwing one invisible hand out to keep her from landing face-first, while the other remained outstretched, holding the quickly falling force field.
“I have a shot,” Forge said, and, raising the rifle, fired a single shot at Bruce. Unaware that the field was there, the projectile bounced harmlessly away two feet from Bruce’s body. Bruce, turning towards the gunshot, howled in rage and launched himself forward. His first attempt was met with resistance, but when he tried a second time, he found that the wall no longer impeded him.
“Look out!” Forge heard from behind Banner. He barely had time to see where the voice was coming from, a middle-aged blonde woman in blue spandex and sitting on her hands and knees, before Bruce was upon him. He grabbed the gun from Forge’s hand and swung it at his face. Forge tried to duck, but it came too late; he felt metal clang and his jawbone snap as he fell to the ground, unconscious.
“Forge!” a woman’s voice screamed from behind Susan. She watched in confusion as a body ran past her towards Bruce and the down man.
Is this what battle fatigue is like? Susan thought wearily. Cuz I swear Spider-Man just ran by me, and he had a ponytail and was screaming like a woman.
Rogue, her face covered by Parker’s mask (except for a slight surgical addition to the back by Logan, allowing her hair to fly free), launched herself at Bruce as he raised his entwined fists for a killing blow. She wrapped her arms around his legs, and the two sunk into the ground like it was quicksand. Rogue disappeared completely, while Bruce stopped at his shoulders. Seconds later, Rogue appeared next to the imprisoned Banner in a puff of black smoke.
“Jono, Professor Cassidy,” she yelled as she picked up Forge’s unconscious body, throwing his cybernetic arm over her shoulder. “Might want to tranq him now.”
“Nice move, Rogue,” Sean said as he and Jono ran towards them.
“I learned it from Kitty,” Rogue said through Parker’s mask. “Save the small talk, though. When she did it, Juggernaut wasn’t kicking his legs in a subway tunnel.”
“Thanks for showing up, X-Men,” Tony said from behind them. “It’ll make this easier. By order of the United Nations, the United States of America, and S.H.I.E.L.D., you are all under arrest for terrorist attacks against the American people.”
“Now’s probably not the best time, Stark,” Sean said as he and Jono cocked their rifles, pointing them at Bruce’s head.
“Would you like to be charged with murder against an agent of the United States Military as well?” asked Tony. “Then, by all means, fire away.”
Bruce Banner, struggling against the asphalt, shifted one more time and fell into the hole, disappearing into the subway tunnel below.
“They’re just tranqs, you tuilli,” Banshee snapped. “Rogue, get him back to the helicopter.”
“You’re not taking him anywhere,” Stark said, pointing his arm-mounted gun at the two.
“Where’d he go?” Storm said as she ran towards the hole.
“He’s down in the tunnels,” Sean said, turning to Tony. “No thanks to pretty boy here.”
“We have to go after him,” said Storm. “He could be anywhere in the city.”
“I said, you’re not going anywhere,” repeated Tony. “Reed, Ben, you have the inhibitors…”
“Sorry, kid,” Ben said to Peter, reaching behind him into a pouch attached to his belt. “Orders are orders.”
“I like you, Ben,” said Peter, stepping away, “but I will punch you hard if you try to put one of those on me.”
“Come on, don’t make this difficult,” said Ben.
“You think this takes priority?” Logan said, shuffling towards the group, his arm dangling at his side. “Your big green hulk is down there, running free. We’re here to help. Shouldn’t we take care of him first, and then fight this out like men?”
“He’s right, Tony,” Reed said from behind Stark. “Maybe we should…”
The asphalt exploded beneath them. Ben, Peter, and Logan went flying in all directions as a giant jade bullet flew from the hole. Foam dribbled from Banner's snarling mouth as he landed inches from Jono, who fell to the pavement with the ground-shaking impact. Banner’s arm flew outward and connected with Sean, who was thrown like a rag doll across the street, where he slammed into St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
Jono scrambled to try to regain his footing, but before he could get up, Banner’s foot crashed down on him. Storm and the others watched in terror as the gigantic foot sank into Starsmore’s chest, the metal containment suit caved in with the blow. Purple light weakly shined from the hole. Jono’s head looked down at the leg of Banner in astonishment, and then fell back to the ground, lifeless.
“Starsmore!” came a voice from the helicopter, and Rogue was astonished to be knocked aside by a blonde boy running from the vehicle.
The question was drowned out, for the time being, by the howl of pain that echoed through the streets of New York. Bruce Banner stepped away from Jono Starsmore’s lifeless body, shaking his leg at the pink energy that had collected around his foot. One could find it comical, as Banner looked like a baseball rookie given a hotfoot, or a businessman trying to shake off an amorous puppy. That humor would quickly disappear, however, when you saw the energy slowly climbing up Banner’s leg, his foot now completely gone.
As Banner screamed in agony, the crowd around Rockefeller Center, as well as the members of Project Defender and the X-Men, watched in silent awe. No one except two people averted their eyes to see a young man, no more than thirteen or fourteen, walk within ten feet of the hulk, who was now hopping up and down, within seconds of falling to the ground. His entire lower leg was now completely gone, and the energy was slowly shifting from a pinkish-purple to a shade of brown.
“Oh my God,” said Susan Richards as eyes fell on the boy.
As did Reed’s. “Franklin?”
Franklin Richards turned to look his mother in the eye…
…and the four sat down in plush leather chairs around a long oak table. Sunshine lit the room through the row of large picture windows. Susan looked out of these windows, and saw a perfect New York skyline. She guessed they must be at least fifty or sixty stories up.
“Where are we?” Ororo Munroe asked. She looked down, and saw that the clothes she had been wearing to the battle, the white top and jeans that she had worn ever since the students escaped from the Academy, had been replaced by a silver dress. She recognized it as the dress she had worn to both introduction ceremonies since become Headmistress. Across the room, she saw Reed and Susan Richards. Reed was dressed in a light blue sport coat with a red tie, while a simple button-down light red blouse replaced Susan’s blue jumpsuit.
Franklin, who sat at the head of the table, was dressed in a suit similar to his father’s. He had his hands clasped in front of him, and Ororo was reminded of a very small version of Donald Trump from a show she watched growing up.
“I don’t know where we are,” said Franklin matter-of-factly. “Ever since I started doing this with my friends a few months back, I still can’t answer for sure. We’re either in my head, or we’re somewhere in-between the four of our minds. Maybe the same place I sent Uncle Johnny.”
“John?” Susan said, sitting up straighter. “You did something to him?”
“Long story, Mom,” said Franklin. “Is he okay?”
“He’s just fine,” said Susan. “No thanks to them.”
Franklin looked at her patronizingly. “Could you please tell me the truth, Mom? You know I can read your mind.”
“Then why don’t you just read it,” said Reed sharply.
“Because I trust you both,” said Franklin. “Ever since I got this power, you two are the only two I haven’t tried to openly read. Little snippets here and there, but nothing that I dug for. Because I always believe you two would be honest with me. Unfortunately, I’ve learned in the past few weeks that I may have misplaced my trust.”
“You can always trust us, Franklin,” said Susan.
Franklin sighed. “I hope so. That’s why we’re here.”
“How did you get here?” asked Ororo.
“I made up the boardroom thing in my head,” he replied. “I figured this is where the grownups have their meetings. We might as well have ours, too.”
Ororo shook her head. “No, I mean, how did you get here? To New York?”
“Hitchhiked,” said Franklin simply. “I snuck aboard Mr. Forge’s helicopter, and blocked my presence from their minds. And when you guys were looking for a place to land, I convinced the crowd that that part of the street might be a bad place to stand.”
Ororo’s eyes bugged. This boy wasn’t even able to drive yet, and he already had the control and the power to clear false personalities from people’s minds, create psychic spaces like a highly trained Emma Frost, mask his presence to multiple X-Men simultaneously, and drop a psychic suggestion to maybe thousands of people that a particular geographic area was a no-touch zone.
Charles would love this kid, she thought. And I can’t say whether that would be a good thing or not… Her mind flashed the image of Jean Grey, completely overcome by the Phoenix, and shuddered.
“Who’s William Stryker?” Franklin asked his parents.
Reed opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at Susan, who looked back just as uncomfortably.
“Sweetie,” she said, “I don’t think we have time to talk about this right now…”
“Time is relative,” said Franklin. “When my friends and I did this, we could have four hour conversations with less than one second of time passing in the outside world. But, you’re right; we don’t have a lot of time. I’m getting kind of antsy, and I want to try to help Dr. Bruce. Who’s William Stryker?”
“I’ve met the man,” Ororo told them, “and I’ve met some of his handiwork. So there’s no sense in sugar-coating it.”
“Who is he?” Franklin repeated. “And why does he have my name on a project file?”
“How did you find out about that?” asked Reed.
“A little raven whispered it to a spider,” said Ororo.
“Am I a project?” asked Franklin, beginning to shake. “Are you really my parents, or was I created in some lab?”
“We’re your parents, Franklin, never doubt that,” said Susan quietly.
“Twenty years ago,” explained Reed, “we were both employees at Stark Industries, back when it was owned by Tony’s father, Howard. We were involved in research on genetic manipulation. Things went better than we hoped, and we learned that we could safely and permanently control and mutate the human genetic code. Sure of our safety, Susan, Bruce, and I volunteered ourselves to be the first test subjects. We chose a simple area of our genetic code: eye color. The project was a huge success, and it caught the government’s attention.”
“Seems like something Stryker would be interested in,” mumbled Ororo.
“They saw vast potential in our work,” Reed continued. “They envisioned a world where children’s genetic defects could be fixed before birth; and, more importantly than in any other project up to that time, they recognized that the genetic code of a human being could be altered at any point in their life. Diseases that traveled through family bloodlines could be stamped out completely, deteriorating DNA could be strengthened as a person aged, leading to a much longer life…”
“Mutations could be created,” Franklin said, “or reversed.”
“Stryker’s child, Jason, was a mutant,” explained Ororo. “It had become his life’s quest to destroy all mutants after Charles Xavier told him that his boy couldn’t be cured.”
“Stryker was one of many government agents who we worked with,” said Susan. “After Reed and I were married, he became particularly interested in seeing what would become of our offspring. After all, even though it was only our eye color, a Class 1 mutation, we were still technically mutants. Unnatural ones, at that. He wanted to see what we could come up with.”
“After Franklin was born, we brought him in for a series of tests,” said Reed. “Nothing too cruel or unusual. Just a higher amount of blood samples than normal, plus a few EKG scans. This went on for maybe two or three years, then was quickly dropped.”
“He wasn’t seeing what he wanted to see?” asked Ororo.
“Couldn’t say,” said Reed. “It was classified. My guess is that he was hoping to see some sort of difference. As you are aware, Professor, until a mutation manifests itself, there’s no way to tell if someone is a mutant or not. I think Stryker was hoping to see if Franklin was showing any anomalies due to his lineage.”
Plus he found some other things to play with, thought Ororo. That seems about the time that Logan had the adamantium grafted to his body.
“So Franklin was dropped as a project,” Reed continued, “but our work with the genetic manipulation continued. Stark and Worthington were in a neck-and-neck race to see who could first produce an effective Cure for mutation. Worthington got a jump on us when they discovered a Subject Zero…”
“Leech…”
“…We didn’t know who it was, or what it even was at the time. Not until after Worthington handed over the research to the government after the failure of the Cure did we learn about him.”
“And you have him right now…” growled Ororo.
“Yes, we do,” said Susan. “But don’t worry, we haven’t hurt him. We learned quickly that his skills wouldn’t have much use in our research. Worthington’s Cure was chemically based. Ours is biological. Molecular.”
“Where is he?” asked Ororo sharply. “And where are the others? Bobby and Kitty? Lucas and Sam?”
Reed and Susan shared an uncomfortable glance. Reed cleared his throat nervously. “That information is classified,” he said quietly. “Those mutants are currently being held, awaiting trial for…”
“Oh, fuck that!” Franklin yelled. Ororo flinched, amazed that he would talk to his parents in such a way. “This isn’t you! Don’t you see that? You’ve been saying this whole time that you’re trying to help people. Since when does ‘trying to find a Cure for genetic problems’ lead to ‘getting super powers and locking up innocent mutants with the help of your Gundam-obsessed billionaire boss’?”
“After you were born,” said Reed, “we decided to focus more and more of our research on the X Gene, the gene within the human body that triggers mutation. We wanted to learn how to trigger it, and how to turn it off again, in case…” he hesitated, and looked at Susan. “Because we were worried about you.”
“In case I wasn’t the right kind of mutant?” mumbled Franklin. “In case my mutation was dangerous? Or, I don’t know, ugly?”
“We showed our theoretical data to Stryker,” said Reed. “But it wasn’t enough. In order to continue the funding, he wanted to see proof that it could actually work, that we could actually trigger the X Gene in a normal human.”
“He had that streak in him,” said Ororo. “Jumped in with both feet, regardless of who was hurt.” She thought of the children trapped in Alkali Lake, and her teeth clenched.
“He had a few candidates lined up,” said Susan. “But the three of us, Reed, Bruce, and I, have a streak in us, too. I don’t know if we wanted to make sure that no one got hurt if we were wrong, or if it was just arrogance, the three of us wanting being the first. We volunteered ourselves.”
“It was considered a success at the time,” continued Reed. “However, by the time we got past theory and into actual proof, Stryker was gone. His replacement liaison to the US Military, Graydon Creed, wanted to make sure that it could be duplicated. Once again, he had a list of candidates, but before we could make a decision, John volunteered. We recognized that, because both he and Susan shared similar genes, he would be a comfortable choice. Graydon agreed, but asked us to use another of his men in addition to John.”
“So that explains John and Ben,” said Ororo. “But what about Stark?”
“Hedging his bets,” said Susan. “We aren’t the only project at Stark Industries being funded by the government. Tony wanted to kill two birds with one stone, and show off two different Stark technologies at once. The power suit is a project Stark Industries picked up after buying out Quest Aerospace. We made enough modifications where it was serviceable enough for a field test.”
“A field test?” repeated Franklin, aghast. “One of your experiments is tearing through downtown New York while you have mutants locked up as scapegoats, and you call it a field test?”
“Scapegoats?” said Susan sharply. “I think they’re a little more than scapegoats. My brother, your uncle, is in the hospital right now, in a coma, because of one of those scapegoats.”
“What are you saying?” yelled Franklin. “I thought you two were big on mutants. You raised me under the belief that mutants were no different than others. Were you just trying to make me feel better in case I woke up one day with six arms or a raccoon’s head?”
“It’s not like that, Franklin…”
“If mutants are so bad, if the X-Men are so bad, why did you send me to their fucking school in the first place? Did you send me because you wanted me to spy on them for you? To, I don’t know, tear them down from inside? Or did you actually think that they’d help me? That I could learn from them? That they’re good people?”
“Franklin…”
“That’s what you told me when I left,” said Franklin. “And, yeah, sure, they can be jerks sometimes, but they’re still decent. They aren’t what you and Stark are claiming they are. What happened in the past few months to make you change your mind? Was it Johnny? Well, news flash, Mom. Uncle Johnny’s not in a coma because of Rogue. Johnny’s in a coma because he was an idiot. He had trapped people underneath that balcony, and she was trying to help out where he was willing to let them die. And so he was an idiot, and attacked her.”
“And she used her power on him…”
“No, she didn’t,” said Franklin. “Her power doesn’t work that way. She can’t control them. She wears long sleeves and gloves every day because she knows that if she touches someone, bad things happen. She doesn’t use it on others. Hell, she actively avoids using it on others. It kills her when she uses it, because the person’s personality and powers become a part of her, make her go insane. The reason she’s out there right now in a Spider-Man mask is because she doesn’t want to touch Bruce. She knows what will happen if she does.
“But she still wants to help.
“They all want to help. And you know it. You think you’re helping, but you’re not. You two are the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you’re being brainwashed into thinking that you’re the good guys. But you’re not the good guys. Hell, you’re not even the bad guys. You’re just henchmen. Goons. Thugs. Puppets.”
“Franklin,” said Reed quietly, “you have to understand…”
“I understand perfectly,” said Franklin, looking at Ororo. “I think we’re done here. I’m going outside to help Dr. Bruce.”
Franklin Richards turned away from his mother’s gaze, and looked calmly at the screaming jade behemoth before him. Bruce Banner’s left leg was almost completely gone, and he fell to the ground with an earth-rumbling crunch.
“It’s going to be okay, Dr. Bruce,” Franklin whispered. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Bruce Banner’s howls slowly ceased. As the energy reached his waist, it split in half, one part traveling down his right leg while the other climbed up his abdomen. His caveman-like features softened, and he turned to Franklin, meeting his gaze.
“Don’t worry,” said Franklin, just as calmly as before. “You did good, Dr. Bruce. Remember that you helped a lot of people. Your research isn’t going to be wasted.”
As the energy consuming the right leg reached the end of Banner’s toes, it quickly leapt back into the main mass, which had reached Bruce’s chest and arms. Despite it all, a small content smile crept across his face.”
“Go to sleep now, Dr. Bruce,” said Franklin as Bruce closed his eyes. “You did just fine.”
The energy changed from brown into a glowing green as it absorbed Banner’s arms and hands. It crept along his neck, up his cheeks, and soon Dr. Bruce Banner, who the Daily Bugle, in an extra released later that day, would call The Incredible Hulk, ceased to be.
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