Steve looked down at Charles Xavier with amazement, "The government let's you
have this?"
In front of them, in a subterranean hangar below the school, sat an SR-71 Blackbird, a spy plane used the the US government. Steve had never seen one up close, but had read about them when he came out of the ice and Fury was trying to catch him up with modern military equipment of the modern age. The plane held the airspeed record to this day, and from the looks of this one, it's had heavy modifications. New, experimental looking jets had replaced the Lockheed engines, and the cabin looked like it had been enlarged slightly.
"What they don't know won't hurt them, Steven," Charles winked. "We needed a quick response vehicle when we found a mutant in need. This just happened to fall into our laps. And our Dr. McCoy has managed to upgrade it quite a bit. I think you're going to enjoy your trip."
Looking up from the wheelchair bound man, Steve saw Rogue on the ramp into the craft. She turned back to him, smiling, "Steve, can you believe this!?"
He chuckled and waved. At least she seemed to be in better spirits now. He had worried that she'd resent him forever for dropping her off here. But the idea of giving her last caretakers closure seemed to have given her at least a somewhat positive outlook on the whole thing.
"Don't be so sure of yourself, Steven," Xavier warned.
"I thought you didn't read minds without permission?" Rogers looked at the older man out of the corner of his eye.
"When one's thoughts are as powerful as yours, my friend," Charles laughed, "one cannot help one's self. The girl as well. She may agree to stay here, but she will not be happy about it. She wants to go with you."
"You know she can't," Steve shook his head. "Where I'm going, what I have to do, it's no place for a kid."
"I would prefer her to stay here, yes," Xavier agreed. "But I've found it's difficult to keep someone where they do not want to be."
Before Rogers could respond, the engines of the Blackbird began to fire up, and Scott Summers's voice came over the comms system, "Steve, we're about ready. Please board the jet."
Nomad nodded to the man known as Professor X, and made his way up the ramp as well. The inside of the Blackbird was just as impressive as the outside. On his way up to the front, he passed a small, field infirmary, a small galley, and a few bunk-bed-style cots for away missions. It was a veritable home away from home for Xavier's away teams. Rogers felt a pang of jealousy. Since his ouster from SHIELD and leaving Montana to rejoin "the life", he and Scout didn't have a home. Something like this wasn't the same, of course, but it would be better than living in the truck and roadside motels.
He patted Rogue on the shoulder as he made his way up to Summers's side, "Need a copilot?"
"Nope," Cyclops shook his head. "Hank's got this thing almost completely automated. You can sit wherever."
The disappointment welled up in Steve's stomach. It had been a while since he had flown anything, and was hoping he'd get the chance. But Summers seemed to be no nonsense when it came to the plane, so Rogers went back and sat next to Rogue.
"And people say I'm a stick in the mud," he said to her discretely.
"Oh, you are," she responded casually as she peered out the window, ready for take off. "Just cuz someone's worse than you don't make you any more fun, Steve."
"Thanks, Rogue," he laid his head back in the seat. "Thanks a lot."
The engines of the Blackbird began to whir even louder, and Steve felt the pressure of the sudden burst of speed press him into the seat. The acceleration was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and a broad, giddy smile was painted across his face as the aircraft sped through the underground tunnel and out into the setting sun.
He looked over the Rogue, and found her hands gripping her arm rests firmly. Leaning over, he asked, "First time flying, huh?"
"Uh, yea," she nodded, looking back and forth from the ground disappearing beneath them and back to him. "We're like, not gonna fall out of the sky or anything, right?"
He laughed reassuringly, "No. We'll be fine. You have a better chance getting in a car accident. Or getting struck by lightning. Just relax, and we'll be there before you know it."
"Okay...but if we die, I'm gonna kill you," she mumbled, staring out into the cool, clear air.
The Blackbird came down in the swamps outside of Gulfport, Mississippi, and Rogue finally let go of her arm rests. She was pretty sure that she had left marks on them, but she also figured Chuck had enough money to replace them. The plane's incredible vertical landing capabilities, which Cyclops explained their scientist had added, let them land silently in the night. She couldn't say she loved flying, but did have to admit it beat how long it would have taken to get here in the truck.
The three of them stepped out of the plane into the close, humid Mississippi air. This was one thing she definitely did not miss. Well, she didn't really miss anything about Mississippi. But the humidity, the humidity was the worst.
Cyclops pressed a button on his wrist and two motorcycles dropped out of the bottom of the plane. He motioned his head towards them, "You know how to ride, Steve?"
"Damn straight," Nomad nodded, fitting his shield on his back. He felt weird without a suit on as well. He didn't have one anymore. Just his old masked helmet. He'd have to get a new one. "I had one I loved during the war. Designed by Stark. Ton of fun. Lots of toys."
"Good," Scott nodded. "The orphanage is a few miles from here."
The ride over was quick, and surprisingly quiet. Rogue figured the motorcycles were electric, impressing her even more. Xavier had a lot going for him, even if she had no interest in stay at that house.
But if she was going to do that, she at least had to purge her memories of this place. She needed closure on this part of her life, and had to at least make sure everyone else at the orphanage knew she was alive. For all she knew they thought she had been abducted and killed. She didn't want that on anyone's conscience.
Pulling up to the gate of the orphanage, however, told Rogue that things weren't going to be that easy. The old, white building looked the same on the outside as it always had. A big white box in the middle with rectangular wings on each side, the black framed windows made the building look like a prison. The manicured lawns out front and the playground were deserted, as they always would be at this time of night, but the darkness and the swings swaying lightly in the wind gave it a creepy vibe that was hard to deny.
"Should there be no lights on in there?" Summers was skeptical. "Nine seems a little early for complete lights out."
"No," she confirmed, "there should definitely be lights on at this time."
They pushed through the gate and went into the building. The reception area brought back painful memories. She came here after she found out her parents died. There was no one else to take her. It wasn't that she loved her parents much. If they loved her they rarely showed as much. But knowing that she was all alone in the world still sucked big time. It didn't help that every other kid in the place was as miserable as she was. They were all fine, and it was nice to have people to talk to, but none of them ever considered each other friends.
"Girls were to the left," she explained to the two men. "Boys to the right."
"I'll check the boys dorm, then," Summers nodded. "I'll radio if I find anything."
"Be careful," Steve responded, taking the shield off his back.
"Don't worry," Scott tapped the side of the visor he had put on before they left the plane, "I can take care of myself."
Steve made his way through the door of the girls dormitory, and she followed close behind. He looked back at her, making sure he had her covered. For all his bluster about not wanting her around, he sure did a good job making sure nothing happened to her.
The hallways were as she had remembered them. Peeling, white paint on the floors and old linoleum flooring in a horrid green and blue checkerboard pattern. It was like something out of an eighties horror movie, when she thought about it. How they never realized that this was not the best look to cheer kids up was beyond her.
But the quiet was still so disturbing. It was like everyone in the place up and disappeared overnight. What the hell was going on here?
"There's my room," she motioned to Room 107.
Steve acknowledged, "Better check it out."
"I dunno...this is weird, Steve," her nerves were evident. "This feels like a trap."
"I know," he smiled back at her. "But we've already come inside. If something is waiting for us, we're not getting out of here without running into it."
Her eyes narrowed at him, "That makes a disturbing amount of sense."
"I have been doing this for like eighty years," Rogers winked.
The super soldier approached the door, smashing it in with his shield before rolling back. But nothing happened. He motioned, and the two of them stepped into her room. She was surprised to see that it was still full of her meager belongings. It still smelled of disappointment to her. Rogue guessed that she should probably gather up the clothes that were here. She barely had more than three outfits since being on the run. But she could't bring herself to do so. This was stuff from her old life. Before she was taken.
Turning, she found Rogers looking puzzled, "What is it, Steve?"
"Hm? Nothing. Nothing," he shook his head.
"You're a bad liar," Rogue rolled her eyes.
"We'll talk about it later, but it's just-"
"Steve, Rogue," Scott's voice came over the comms, "you're gonna want to see this."
As they made their way towards Scott's position, the oddity of everything about this place was driving Steve bonkers. There was absolutely no evidence of foul play in Rogue's room. In fact it looked as if it had been abandoned. If she had been abducted, there would have been some signs of struggle, or at the very least evidence of an investigation. But there was none. In fact, this entire facility looked like it was decades out of date.
Some dated facilities in an orphanage made sense, especially in Mississippi, but this place looked like it hadn't been updated since Steve went into the ice. Everything about it felt fishy, but what it all meant was still lost on him.
One thing he was sure of, though, was that there were no kids left here. And whoever Rogue had come back to talk to knew she was gone and never coming back. Steve was sure the entire operation was a part of whatever conspiracy had sent the girl to Montana in the first place. The thought of them using an innocent girl like that, tricking her into thinking she was somewhere relatively safe before pulling the rug from under her, had righteous anger bubbling up inside him.
When they reached Cyclops's position, Steve was nearly knocked over by the smell. It was like being at the zoo and falling face first into the monkey cage.
"Yea, wonderful, isn't it?" Summers gagged. "I dunno what this is...but it looks like a nest."
It was a good observation. The walls between the hallway and the rooms in this corner of the building had been clawed, almost chewed through, making passages between rooms. But they all led to the room furthest from the center of the building. The plywood and plaster chewed away had been formed into some sort of mound in that room, like some kind of giant cocoon.
"Ugh," Rogue herself gagged, "that is rank."
Before Steve could agree, a flurry of movement behind them drew his attention. He pushed the other two aside and raised his shield in the nick of time. A blur of fur slammed into the shield, driving Steve back into the wall. He dropped the shield slightly to attempt to get a look at the attacker, but had to raise it up quickly to defend himself against a swipe from a clawed hand. The long nails screeched along the vibranium shield. The creature's attack was unrelenting, and it was all Steve could do to keep it at bay.
A red flash of light emanated from beside Steve, and the creature was blasted back, through the outside wall of the orphanage. Nomad dropped the shield to see the concussive beam cease from Cyclops's visor. He spun and looked out the hole in the wall.
Outside, the creature had gotten back to its feet. It stood around five and a half feet. It had ripped, green pants on, but no shirt or shoes. Instead, fur covered its body and feel, both hands and feet featuring clawed appendages. In the pale light, its head had pointed ears and beady red eyes. Behind it, a pink, hairless tail swayed. It looked at the three intruders and hissed, before running towards the street. It smashed into a moving car, knocking it sideways. The creature, seemingly unharmed, made its way for the city.
"Was that...?' Summers started.
"That was a friggin' rat boy," Rogue was a shocked as the rest.
"You two, go back to the Blackbird," Steve affixed his shield to his back once again. "When that thing is incapacitated I'll circle back to you. Scott, you can't be wrapped up in this. And Rogue, you can't either."
Whatever that thing was, it was left here as a trap for Rogue and whoever brought her back. Steve was going to find out why, and then he was going to find whoever was responsible for all this nightmare and put a stop to it.
"He's here," the man on the roof of the building across from the orphanage said into the comms. "Must have scared the shit out of Vermin. The rat ran into the city, just like you predicted. Rogers is giving chase. Got the pictures you wanted."
"Good," the voice on the other side, thick with a German accent, responded. "Let them tear apart that American backwater for a time. Then call Vermin home, and destroy the orphanage."
"That won't kill Rogers," the man in Mississippi scoffed. "He's too good for that."
"More than likely," the German responded. "But sometimes, as you Americans say, it is better to be lucky than good."
Simple Unicycle
Izurich
Morden Man
