7s and 2s

[Silenced.Star]

It was a total 360 from the psychological profile they had and so needed heavy reworking.

Click to shrink...

If you go 360 degrees you end up where you started, maybe 180 instead?

Besides that fun chapter and a good story.

 

[JAM_classic]

What do you mean? Rogue and Tabitha already suspect.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, but the rest don't (and Rouge and Tabitha haven't shared their suspicions).

 

[SpectreOfChaos]

hell yea glad to see this back with more chapters

 

[WaywardWriter]

Chapter 22: Ripples Across the Pond​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.

---

The loud blare of the ship's horn pierced the still morning air. It started low before rising to an octave that traveled far past the edges of the boat and into the wide ocean beyond.

I awoke by the sound of the second horn blast, opening my eyes to the cramp but warm interior of our "room" in the lower hull. I unconsciously stretched my back and smacked my lips at the somewhat stale air as I sat up from the makeshift bed of pillows and blankets, the dark steel walls of the shipping container dimly illuminated by the nightlight hanging on the corner.

The doc was still fully out in his spot, the horn having no effect on the older man as he continued to snore away.

I was mindful to not wake him when standing, choosing to step over his body and carefully pry open the front latch of the container with only a little bit of creaking.

The walk up to the main deck was done in relative silence. The early morning meant there was few sailors roaming about the lower hull and the ones I did pass were just waking to rotate into the more active shift. The sleepy haze they were experiencing made it so I got acknowledging grunts at best before they went about their duties.

Salty sea air greeted me alongside a dense morning mist. I took a sharp inhale as the ship sailed deeper within, visibility down to near nothing until faint shapes started to become clearer in the white. The first readily noticeable structures were the multiple tall oil rigs poking out of the fog. Connected at their base; a wide stone harbor, rows of warehouses and soon came into view.

I gave a quiet sigh of relief as the large Port of Felixstowe came into view.

We finally made it.

Thank fucking Christ. That took forever.

'It wasn't that long.'

Not that long? My guy we were on this stinking boat for over 2 freaking weeks! There's only so many times I can watch you explore the ship at night or lose every single card game to Lionel before I go stir crazy from sheer boredom!

'…I'm didn't lose every card game.'

Yes. Yes you did. Even the one Lionel tried to throw a couple days ago. That…That had honestly been impressive. The old man was so shocked you had a worse hand than the shitty one he swore he would lose with. Bravo.

The corner of my eye twitched at that as more and more of the deep-water port became visible. The trip itself did start to drag on a bit too long, that I couldn't deny, but considering that neither Lionel nor I had any readily available means of transportation across the sea it was hard to be ungrateful about it.

The Rising Sons had been a godsend in that regard. Calling Callum to ask if he happened to know a way to London for…less than legal travelers, the Dragon Mutant came into clutch with a contact in Maine that would bring us across the sea on a cargo ship for a reasonable price. He also had options for a plane service but it was a bit outside of our price range and the cargo ship would have the means to transport my truck.

Taking a short drive to Maine from the middle of Alaska (it still took around 4 days), Lionel and I met with a surprisingly friendly smuggler who was all smiles and welcoming vibes, especially after we revealed our affiliations with the Rising Sons.

A wiry but jovial brown-haired man of…some European descent, the smuggler calling himself Richard cited the price was 4,000 dollars per person on the ship with an extra charge of 2000 for any vehicles we wanted transported. That was the discounted price due to our connections.

Lionel had gone ahead and footed the bill. Considering I had possession of my passport and technically didn't need to go through the hassle when I could just get a regular plane ticket the doc insisted on it and I accepted without much pushback.

For the price we paid, it was a pretty decent ride. Getting to set up shop in one of the many empty containers on the ship, a common thing apparently when they were on a return trip, we weren't restricted to just our containers and could even use the bathrooms and cafeteria as long as we didn't draw too much attention to ourselves.

Richard assured us the crew and officers wouldn't give two shits about us as long as we wore fake uniforms when moving about the ship. It was shockingly accommodating for what was essentially smuggling two people to another country but I imagined it would have been different if we didn't have the recommendation of an internationally known mercenary group.

I stayed on the front of the ship as it slowed its initial traveling speed and began what I assumed was the usual docking procedures into the port. The ship carefully maneuvered around one of those red tipped floating platforms a couple hundred feet from shore and moved towards an empty dock, delicately easing the ship into position.

Crew members started to throw thick black ropes onto the pier once it grew close. There waiting were dock workers that dragged the ropes over to curved bollards sticking out of the floor and got to tying them around the bollards. They did this at multiple spots on the ship and the vessel swayed as the engines were killed, the ropes going taut as the ship continued moving by momentum. A couple of smaller boats were also pressing on certain sections of the lower hull and were slowly pushing the cargo ship flat against the harbor.

I turned around when the horn sounded for a third time and the anchor was released, hitting the water with a loud splash. Making my way back to the shipping container I found the doc just as I left him, though he turned over at some point and was now drooling on his pillow.

"Doc." I said softly and shook his shoulder gently. "Yo doc, wake up."

"Whu-!" Lionel shot up from where he laid, whipping his head around with a groggy expression and settled on giving me a dazed look.

"We made it."

I smiled in amusement as the older man blinked owlishly at the claim. It took a minute of him rubbing his eyes and stretching before the doc gathered himself enough to follow me out of the container. An easy riser the doc was not.

A quick trip to the cafeteria and cup of coffee that was more like motor oil than liquid gave Lionel the extra boost he needed to really start our day. Meeting up with Richard's associate on the ship, a surly dark-skinned officer known as Dick (I was beginning to think these were fake names), he had us wait on the harbor while a giant crane took containers off the ship one by one and place them on transport trucks to be brought elsewhere. The container that had my truck was marked with black lines crossing over a red circle and after close to an hour of waiting, it was finally pulled from its spot on the pile.

We followed the truck carrying it to a hidden corner of the dock and the worker driving lowered the container to the ground so we could pop it open. The car had been wrapped in plastic and bolted to the steel hull to avoid jostling. While there was a faint smell of rust and the inside was a bit humid, it was mitigated by the holes on the sides for ventilation and the engine turned on with relative ease.

Satisfied overall, I subtly handed over a couple hundred bucks to the worker and he took the cash without a word, tilting his hat to me in thanks. Throwing our stuff in the back of the truck, Lionel and I exited through a gate heading due West farther inland.

It was a 2-hour car drive from the Port of Felixstowe to London proper. Lionel stared out at the passing countryside in quiet nostalgia and pointed out certain landmarks as I drove.

The older man had told me many stories about his time in the Capital of England with his wife while we were on the ship. On how he met her later in his life and having spent a good number of years here with her. While he ultimately had to return to the states when the next Camp Cathcart was constructed, his wife came with him and they raised their daughter (who was born a year or so later) in America.

I never learned when his self-imposed exile in Los Angeles began but by how he talked about his wife in the past tense, especially around the time his granddaughter was born and his daughter moved to London, I have the sneaking suspicion she wasn't among the living anymore.

Not wanting to potentially poke that sensitive subject I avoided asking about her and focused on his daughter. Mostly if he knew where she was currently living.

"I do." Lionel admitted after thinking for a moment. "I tried my best to keep tabs on them over the years, hiring private detectives to do so every once in a while. Just to see how they were doing and if they were okay. They always were. At least as far as the reports that I got back told me."

"When was the last time you commissioned a report?"

To that the doc took out his notebook from his bag and flipped through it, turning to the very last page at the very back. There, held in a tiny holster was a couple of small pictures and pulled out by Lionel, he raised one to the front so I can see it while watching the road.

It was a picture of a family. A short lithe woman with a freckled oval face, long frizzy brown hair and a radiant smile stood next to a tall middle aged thin man with short blond hair, round glasses and a 5'o clock shadow. And between them, standing proud with her hands behind her back and wearing a graduation gown, was a little girl that bore a great semblance to the woman save for her hair that was the same color of the man.

"I got it a few months ago." Lionel said, turning the picture to proudly smile at it. "My granddaughter had just graduated from elementary school and got to perform a solo in the graduation song. The detective at the time said the parents were very proud."

"They look happy."

"They do…They always do. A blessing I'm grateful for every day."

"Were there ever times you were tempted to go visit them in person, even if it was just from a distance?" I asked curiously and glanced at his forlorn expression. "More than you usually did I mean."

"…A few. Whenever there was a birthday or big celebration I sometimes hoped that I could drum up the courage to go to them, explain why I was gone for so long and reconnect with them." Lionel said with hopeful look in his eyes…before his expression fell just as fast. "But there would always be a voice in the back of my head telling me that I didn't deserve it. That I belonged exactly where I put myself…I could never find the strength to disagree with it."

My expression softened at that. Seeing the old man so downcast, I looked to the photo in his hand and then to him before thinning my lips.

"Well." I started, patting him hard on the shoulder and drawing Lionel from his funk. "That voice can take its opinions and shove them up its ass. The only voice in your head is mine now, and it's saying you're going to clear the air with your family. By Hell or high water. This is also something you can't disagree with. You got a problem with that?"

Lionel gave an incredibly amused but sincere smile at that and shook his head.

"No sir." He said fondly and I nodded firmly, focusing back on the road while Lionel turned to admire the passing terrain, his shoulders a little less heavy than they were before.

…Not to ruin the moment, but you do realize how ironic it is for you to say that, right?

'Oh shut up.'

Another hour of driving like this. Traffic became denser the farther we went and soon; peeking just a bit over the horizon, our destination came into view.

The Capital of England stretched out before us as drove around the suburban areas, driving around the edges of the city before reaching the river that ran through it all and following it to the center. It was a bit jarring having to drive on the left side of the road when on two ways streets but I eventually got used to it as the buildings grew more numerous and the roads narrower.

The makeup of London was very different compared to the metropolitans I visited in America, the place seemingly a mix of modern-day buildings and older architecture from different time periods. While a couple of towering glass and metal skyscrapers littered the innermost parts of the city, a lot of it was made of plain stone, wood and red brick with many roofs having pointed tops. Statues littered the entrances of parks and near the river that ran through London alongside sprawling water fountains, beautiful designs etched upon them.

At one point I saw Big Ben and the London Eye in the distance and had to contain my desire to start exploring. Taking a turn right before the British Museum and forcing myself to keep going without stopping to take a picture (I may have done some research before getting on the boat), we arrived at a quieter section of the otherwise busy city.

We passed a number of stores and larger residentials before I eased the truck to a stop once Lionel said to.

The former home of Lionel and his wife Kali was an admittedly plain looking one. A simple two-story house nestled in the middle of a cozy neighborhood; the front was fenced off with a metal gate that had long faded a dull grey from natural erosion and a tiny driveway leading around to (presumably) the house's backyard.

Has a nice view of the park though.

Exiting the truck and grabbing my stuff, I found Lionel standing a couple feet away from the fence. The older man stared up at his house with a faraway look in his eyes. His gaze flickered to every inch of the front, seemingly taking stock of every brick, stone, patch of dirt and glass. As if remembering memories long since buried.

Giving him a moment to reminisce Lionel eventually shook off the haze and quietly walked up the front steps to his door. The lock was a bit finnicky and it took a second of him jiggling his old keys in the keyhole but we were eventually able to get inside.

Boxes littered a long hallway with barren white walls and soft wood flooring, an archway on the left side halfway down and ended in a series of stairs going upward. Square marks on the walls that were faded compared to area around them hinted at pictures formerly strung up and were at some point placed away, probably in the boxes lying around.

The archway led to a relatively spacious living room that was furnished and beyond that another threshold leading to an open window kitchen. The furniture was a blend of brown and red couches and chairs, a small personal dining table meant to fit a family of 4. A giant (but empty) oak cabinet in the corner next to a tall Grandfather clock and a sliding door that led to a small backyard.

"It's nice."

"It's old…"

"Doesn't mean it's not nice."

Lionel snorted softly at that and idly ran a hand on the wooden threshold, rubbing his knuckle on multiple indents there of varying height. They looked intentionally made. I scanned the living room and hallway as the doc became lost in his memories once more.

The first thing I noticed was how clean it was. No thin layers of dust on the furniture or cobwebs in the dark corners, not like how I would expect from a house that hasn't seen any activity for so long. A peek through the sliding door also showed that the grass wasn't overgrown and was even freshly cut in some places.

It looked like someone had been cleaning this place…

I kept mum on my observations and followed Lionel upstairs. There were three rooms on the second floor, one of which was a large bathroom. Pointing out the farthest door which was the master bedroom where his wife and him used to sleep, Lionel opened the door to the last room.

It was a spartan room with a dresser next to the head of a single twin bed, a man-sized mirror in the corner and an open closet on the opposite side. There were no decorations on the white walls either.

"And this, is the guest bedroom. It was originally going to be converted into my daughter's room but life had other ideas." The doc said leaning on the doorframe as I stood in the room and looked around. "It's yours to use for as long as you plan to stay."

"I appreciate it." I was originally going to get a hotel or something in the city so Lionel's invitation saved me the trouble of searching. Though I didn't plan to stay here for very long. Once he reconnected with his family and I finished dealing with a few personal things, I would go about planning my next move.

Speaking of. Tossing my bags at the foot of the bed, I turned to Lionel and crossed my arms.

"You ready to go?" I asked, to which he blinked in surprise.

"Ready? Ready for-" He abruptly stopped at my long look and he audibly gulped after getting it. "N-Now?"

"It's better to get it out of the way now than later." I said and sighed at seeing his nervousness grow in real time. "I'm not trying to put too much pressure on you doc. I know this is a very big step for you…But we both know that if we hold it off until you feel fully confident, we'll be roommates for the next couple months until I finally lose my patience and drag you over to see them."

"…I wouldn't have taken months to do it…Just one or so."

Lionel awkwardly looked away at the unimpressed look I sent him. Shaking my head as he rubbed his neck, I rolled my jaw.

"You do what you want doc. I'm not going to force you if you're really not prepared to face them. I just think you've tortured yourself enough. The longer you shy away from your family is just more time you're never going to get back…and you've lost plenty as is."

Lionel stiffened at my words. Lowering his head slightly, I watched as a moment of clarity hit the older man past the fear and uncertainty.

"…I really have, haven't I?" He said, the unease warring with the realization for a few seconds before crystallizing into steely resolve. "Give me an hour. I need to take a shower and change."

"…The water is still on here?"

Evidently, it was. Unpacking my clothes and placing them in the drawer as the sound of the shower running echoed from down the hall, I went ahead and hid my bags full of cash in different hard to reach spots around the house.

Grabbing a drink from the kitchen, Lionel came down with the hard tapping of polished dress shoes on wooden steps. The old man had dressed to the nines. He wore a long beige coat with the same brown dress shirt and black vest he had when working at Glendale (though the pants were now matching the vest). He was also wearing a beige bowler hat, scarf and trimmed his beard to a neat edge.

"Well." He said, adjusting his coat anxiously. "How do I look?"

He looks like a 20th century English mobster going to collect protection money…Kind of dig it actually.

"You look good doc." I said and chuckled lowly at his heavy sigh of his relief. He was a little overdressed, especially for what was supposed to be a family reunion (that we still weren't sure was going to be a happy one) but if it eased some of his nerves than I didn't see the harm.

The fact that his daughter's house was a 30-minute walk from here was just the slime cherry on the Toad shaped cake.

…That was terrible.

'Yeah, that sounded better in my head.'

It really didn't though.

We chose to walk rather than drive, Lionel using the time moving through the neighborhood and busy commercial areas to brainstorm his approach. I swore I could hear the gears turning in the old man's head as he tried to think of every possibility.

What he could say to explain his absence and his reasoning for deciding to cut contact. Whether he should try and slowly disseminate pieces of his past to make it easier for her to understand or just say it all at once, trusting her to follow along. What his daughter would say in response to the truth and how he could mitigate the damage.

At some point he began to openly mumble his options and I had to gently guide him out of people's ways when he got too lost in his own thoughts and nearly bumped into them. I didn't try to draw him from his trance and just quietly walked alongside him to our destination. Since it was still summer, even if it was the very tail end of it, school was still out for the majority of kids from elementary to high schoolers so his granddaughter should in theory be home.

And considering it was Sunday, and the law firm his daughter works at is closed on weekends, it stood to all reason there was never a better chance than now.

Stopping at the corner of a small park (this city sure had a lot of parks), we arrived at an area full of family homes. Other than a man walking his dog and a group of teenagers hanging out on the nearby benches, there was no one else around. It was very peaceful.

I followed Lionel's gaze to a white brick house at the end of the street and nodded towards it.

"Is that it?"

"Yes…" He admitted but didn't move, nervously staring at the house like it was a deathtrap specially created for him. We stood there for a couple seconds as the old man looked ready to step forward, sometimes even beginning the action but stopped shy of actually completing it and returned his foot to its original position every time. He did this a few more times.

I rolled my eyes.

A well-timed shove as he pretended to take a step sent the doc into a stumble/jog forward into the street. Snapping his head around to give me a sharp glare, I grinned back unashamed, Lionel faced the front again and I heard him take a deep breath.

Then he began walking towards the house. I stood in the shade of a nearby tree, watching from a distance as Lionel softly opened the front gate and walked up the steps to the door. There was another long drag of hesitation before he worked up the nerve to ring the doorbell.

The bell rang a jolly tune for a bit before falling silent. Lionel stood ramrod straight while he waited the agonizing (to him) seconds for someone to come to the door.

It opened soon enough, the man from the picture he showed me being the one to answer. I watched the confused husband say something to Lionel (most likely asking who he was) and doc dipped his head before speaking. There was a short conversation shared and the man's confusion only grew as time passed.

A small head poked out from behind the left leg of the husband. Lionel's entire frame stiffened at the sight of his granddaughter unblinkingly staring up at the unknown man at the door. The husband placed a hand atop the little girl's head before turning his head and yelling something into the house.

A third figure arrived a few seconds later. Lionel's daughter came into view with a curious expression, looking to her husband with a tilt of the head…until she saw Lionel standing there and she mimicked her father's frozen state, her eyes going comically wide.

In response, the doc shakily took off his hat and held it to his chest, his stature growing incredibly meek. I couldn't hear what was being said but I could tell he was stuttering half the words while his daughter looked on in shock.

He stopped talking at one point, lowering his head with a pained expression. He probably thought he was butchering this due to the lack of reaction and looked ready to pivot. Perhaps even retreat to try another day.

Lionel was completely unprepared for the pair of arms that wrapped around his torso.

He was nearly sent stumbling backwards down the steps as his daughter barreled into his chest. Catching himself at the last second, a surprised Lionel wrapped an arm around his daughter as she held him tightly.

The old man stared into empty space for a moment. Even as he unconsciously returned the hug with both arms, even as she planted her face fully against his shoulder and he rested his chin on top of her hair, I could see he was still looked utterly stunned by what was happening. As if he couldn't believe it was happening.

I smiled softly when it finally dawned on him, and his perpetually tired, haunted eyes began to freely flow with tears.

…You know. This may sound insane considering we literally cured a world-renowned war hero not even a month ago…but is it weird that I've never felt prouder than right now?

'Not all.' I thought, watching Lionel's daughter openly fuss over the crying old man while her husband and daughter watched on slight confusion. 'I feel the same.'

Lionel was invited into their home, though it was less an invitation and more his daughter insistently dragging him inside.

The old man (naturally) put up no resistance. The last thing I saw was him disappearing into the house, his granddaughter shadowing their steps while the husband shut the door behind him.

'...Well then.' Bumping off the tree I was leaning on with my shoulder, I slid my hands into my pockets and turned around.

My steps were light as I walked away.

---

With Lionel reconnecting his family after so long and not wanting to intrude of what I felt was a private affair, that left the rest of the afternoon and evening open to do whatever I wished.

Having bounced from place to place for the better of a month with very little time to slow down and constantly chased by one evil organization or another, it felt nice to have some free time again. Going back to Lionel's house to take a nice hot shower and change into fresh clothes, I chose to leave my truck in the driveway and hit the streets on foot.

I didn't have a set destination in my mind. Choosing to treat it like a lazy day, I walked in the direction I remembered passing the British Museum. I had planned to just go about it the normal way and pay the admission fee to enter.

That was, until I realized that I needed to find a place to convert my American dollars to British pounds and didn't see one readily available so I just walked around to the side of the museum and leapt through an open window when no one was looking.

What? It's not like they'll miss the petty change. And I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that thousands of priceless relics inside the British Museum were stolen from other countries in their foreign escapades so, in a way, avoiding paying the fee was my way of somewhat righting the scales.

…I don't think that's how that works. And again. Really ironic that you're the one saying that.

After exploring for about an hour, seeing all the cool artifacts in each section and taking a bunch of pictures, I headed towards the center of the city and arrived at the infamous River Thames that ran through it. Leaning on a railing by the pier, I admired the many small boats and ships going up and down the waters, passing under the bridges at their leisure. From my position I could even see the famous London Bridge in the distance and took a couple pictures of it.

Since the phone plan I bought in America didn't have the capability to do international calls (considering the times I don't think any regular plan did), the photos I took would remain on my phone until I somehow got that handled. With just how long I've gone without contacting anyone back in the Brotherhood, it was probably best to deal with that sooner rather than later.

'I think the last person I talked to was Wanda and that was right before leaving Los Angeles with Lionel.' Damn. If my math was correct then that was over a month ago, marking this the longest I've ever gone without a call, text or even sending a picture of whatever place I was visiting. 'I sure hope they don't think I'm dead.'

Oh come on, don't be so dramatic. It's just a month. It's not like you constantly get into fights and other dangerous shenanigans involving evil groups that want to kill you…Oh wait.

…Point obnoxiously made aside, seeing as I couldn't do anything about it now I decided to continue on exploring. I'd look for a solution to that problem tomorrow.

Following the dense crowd of families, couples and the like down the busy pier, I eventually found a place to convert my cash to pounds and from there I bounced from one part of the city to another for the next couple of hours. Buying a ticket to enter Big Ben, climbing the hundreds of steps and taking a tour inside of the clock tower, I then went to the Buckingham Palace, walked around the palace grounds and took pictures of all the memorials.

I also got to take a few selfies with the King's Guards. Somewhat tempted to lower my aviators to get a reaction out of the incredibly stern soldiers, I held off on those intrusive thoughts and continued on my way. Lionel would have some words if I got in trouble on the first day we got here after all.

Slinking back into the crowds, I began making my way towards the London Eye to check it out and maybe grab a bite to eat around there.

It was throughout doing all of this that I noticed something odd.

By virtue of being a popular tourist destination spot, the streets of London were something of a melting pot so it wasn't strange to see people from different corners of the world here. And while I never placed much stock in the idea that you can recognize those from your country at a single glance, I learned that there was some validity to it because (when I was paying attention) I spotted a couple Americans here and there as I walked about.

I just found it very odd that whenever I saw one, it was always at the new stands scattered around the city. Every time.

The first time, I saw an American family huddled at the corner of a stand, whispering amidst themselves with obvious excitement. It drew a glance from me but I didn't think very much of it and kept moving.

Then I saw a similar scene at another one, an even larger family surrounding a stand and sharing a couple newspapers between them, the kids practically fighting for the ones they were holding. I saw this once more, only they looked like a group of young college students and they were going crazy over something in the papers, forming a semicircle on the grass to talk about what was on it. I saw something similar like this play out again a few blocks away.

And then again. And again.

And again.

By the time I crossed Westminster Bridge and made it to the Eye, my curiosity compelled to walk towards the next stand I found (which was blessedly not surrounded by people) and buy a newspaper from a portly British man sitting next to a short stack of them.

The funny thing was, I already had an idea on what all the commotion was about. While my sight was the sense most acutely affected by Rebirth, the rest had seen their own overhaul in terms of potency and control. My ears picked up plenty of very interesting words amidst the chatter despite the loud crowds and distance.

So I wasn't really all that surprised when I looked upon the front page of The Daily Telegraph and saw in large, bolded words –

Captain America, Return of the Legendary Super Soldier.

And below that was an article on Mutants, the mysterious X-Men and the man responsible for their reveal, Bolivar Trask.

Well. At least it wasn't Magneto.

'At least…' I thought dimly as I read the paper and learned of the conference hosted by the Mutant hating scientist. How he exposed the X-Men on national TV, calling them a danger to humanity followed by Steve Roger's return a week later.

I burst out in laughter at the Captain's speech and how he thought Trask's ideals resembled those of a certain 'visionary' he once disagreed with. Regardless if he meant Hitler or the Red Skull, the comparison made my year.

"Mad, ain't it?" The portly man who sold me the newspapers said once my laughter died down. "I almost didn't believe it when I read it. My old man always talked about his time in the 3rd Infantry and how he once saw Captain America and Union Jack push into France once the beaches were linked in 44. Greatest day of his life the old nutter used to say."

"Is that right?" I asked with a smile. "And how many other people today have heard that story too?"

"Hey, if I have to hear it every time I go home then so does everyone else." The man grumbled lowly and I gave a good-naturedly chuckle. "Still. I haven't seen my pops that happy in a long time. Shame we don't know who cured the Captain. I'd love to buy them a pint."

"I bet…"

Staring at the headlines a little longer in thought, I bid the portly man a good day before folding the newspaper under my arm and walking away.

Despite the literal world altering events that happened while I was indisposed on the ship, the novelty of what I learned just remained that. A novelty. Nothing that made me all that surprised or bothered.

I always knew Mutantkind was going to be dragged into the limelight one of these days. It was an inevitability. The fact it was hidden for this long and that I was able to enjoy my anonymity for as long as I had made it a little hard to complain.

The fact it didn't have happen like it did in the original canon and the Rogers was speaking out against the budding discrimination was the best-case scenario as far as I was concerned. If the doc wasn't already proud of what we accomplished then this will only validate his decision to use the cure on the good Captain even further.

More to that, I wasn't really worried about Trask. As callous as it might sound, the way I saw it, Trask just…wasn't my problem.

Ignoring the political shitstorm about to come his way after what Rogers said about him, the man has already made enemies with the X-Men and is set to piss off the greater Mutant community and in turn the Superhero groups currently in play.

This world didn't exist in a vacuum. With the amount of powerful, independent heroes doing their fair share, I don't see them just standing aside while Sentinels are openly hunting down innocent Mutants and slaughtering them in mass, not to mention the civilians that would get caught in the crossfire. They would intervene and then Trask would have to worry about being public enemy number 1 once enough people get tired of his shit.

And even if we ignored all of that…I was in fucking England. Trask and his current ambitions were very much locked in America and its politics. So unless he brings his particular brand of stupidity over to the United Kingdoms for…some reason, then I'm pretty sure I was in the clear.

We probably should still check on the others when we get the chance. See how they're doing with all of that.

'Of course. That's a given.'

And factoring my involvement in all this, I thought a little celebration was in order. Finding a place to eat after asking for some directions, a nice British restaurant right by the pier, I was given a table in the outside seating. Enjoying the soft breeze under a wide umbrella I rubbed my hands eagerly as my order was brought over by a waiter and gingerly placed in front of me.

Taking a long, wonderful inhale of the large juicy medium rare steak on the plate, I thanked the waiter as he placed my water on the side and eagerly picked up my utensils. After eating shitty ship cafeteria food for weeks on end, I couldn't wait to eat an actual meal again.

I dug in-

"Todd Tolansky?"

…That was, if it wasn't for the petite woman in a form fitting suit and short brown hair suddenly standing at the end of my table. My steak knife pausing inches from its prize, I slowly lifted my head to the pretty brunette smiling softly down at me.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your meal. Mind if I sit?" She asked but didn't wait for my answer and immediately pulled the chair out to sit down, placing a folder on the table. I continued to stare dumbly as she held out a hand. "Vicki Reppion. I'm with the British Division of Shield; we're known as Strike. And I think you'll want to hear what I have to say."

I stared blankly at her and the outstretched hand. I heard what she said, and how she casually dropped Shield (in a public setting to boot), but I couldn't properly focus on it. Why?

Because I was too busy focusing on the other voice I was now hearing. One coming a direction I couldn't track for a long moment…until I could.

'Todd? Todd, can you hear me? Are you sure this thing is-Oh, I think I can see him. Yeah, I can definitely see…Oh. Is…Is this a bad time?'

Tabitha's voice echoed in my brain. The sudden mental presence was a faint pressure on my temple that, while not painful, was very weird to experience for the first time with no warning. Definitely nothing I was expecting to happen.

I took a moment. To properly register the psychic presence in my mind. To look at the agent still waiting for my response.

I looked down at my (still) untouched steak.

I let out a deep, heavy sigh.

"I'm not going to get to eat this in peace, am I?"

Toad, for once, had no witty comeback to make.

---

A/N: Look on the bright side Todd, you almost got to the quarter mark of 24 hours before being ambushed by a secret agent and psychically mind called at dinner time. And nothing exploded (yet).

I'd take the win and run.

On a side note, things have gotten a little jumbled, in terms of timeline I mean. Let the record state that what happened in the previous Interlude, how Trask revealed the truth about Mutants, the world's reaction to them and Roger's conference didn't happen one day after the other. It was something that stretched on with weeks in between and almost all of it began the moment Todd and Lionel got onto the ship. Cap's conference and his visit to the X-Mansion pretty much happened a day or two before they finally landed in London. Hope that clears up any confusion.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

 

[Carlos99]

Thanks for the chapter!!

 

[Nicohals J Westerberg]

More toad is always welcome

 

[Darkban]

Well damn, poor guy really can't catch a break huh?
Really happy to have a new chapter so quickly after finishing reading the rest, what? a day or two ago? XD
That was lucky!

Thanks for the chapter =D

 

[SpectreOfChaos]

Hell yea new chapter always excited for these looking forward to how this goes

 

[SpectreOfChaos]

Not just Toad, Super Toad, the 'Super' part is very important you see.

Click to shrink...

Came back to reread this chapter after reading the newest one becouse seeing Steve campare Trask to Hitler is very emotionally satisfying, anyway I still vote that Toad should try and get extremis and become the Ultimate Thermite Toad

 

[Mortal Sage]

i am sick of reading this one chapter at a time. i feel like a starving dog and the author is the one who has locked all the other starving dogs(readers) in their basement and is feeding them scraps to keep them at the edge of death. I dont like this kind of edging. i am gonna put this in timeout for an year or so. someone call me back after the author uploads 15 - 20 chapters atleast.

 

[backgroundnoise]

Well, look at it this way, you had a couple of weeks of relative peace and the chance to reunite a family torn apart by tragic circumstances, that's gotta be worth something, right?

Came back to reread this chapter after reading the newest one becouse seeing Steve campare Trask to Hitler is very emotionally satisfying, anyway I still vote that Toad should try and get extremis and become the Ultimate Thermite Toad

Click to shrink...

Trask could not have picked a worse angle to take given the timing and the framing he went with. It makes sense, given he wants to push the most extreme and radical 'solutions' as hard and as fast as possible, but 'we need armies of Sentinels murdering American citizens' was always going to be a really hard sell without Magneto out there being, well... Magneto.

 

[transhumansage]

i hope toad eventually gets a transformation like the great toad boss in the IGA ESCAPE mission in NIOH. that dues was just nothing but pure badass.

 

[WaywardWriter]

i am sick of reading this one chapter at a time. i feel like a starving dog and the author is the one who has locked all the other starving dogs(readers) in their basement and is feeding them scraps to keep them at the edge of death. I dont like this kind of edging. i am gonna put this in timeout for an year or so. someone call me back after the author uploads 15 - 20 chapters atleast.

Click to shrink...

Your Hunger gives me life

 

[Silent Cosmos]

I cocked the gun and it did its intended effect because the dealer shut up.

Click to shrink...

"Huh. The safety was on."

Click to shrink...

Soo….
Was it a revolver or a standard handgun?

Cause you can only cock a revolver, not a handgun. Cocking means pulling back the hammer of the revolver, making it ready to fire.

Handguns have safety switches, usually. You can click it on or off. Revolvers don't. Also Glocks but their safety is kinda built into the trigger.

His eyes widened at the gun mag in my grip.

Click to shrink...

"What the fu-" Marcus pulled out his gun again and turned it over. The Magazine slot was empty.

Click to shrink...

raised my other hand and opened my palm to reveal a pile of bullets.

Click to shrink...

Bruh no. Anyone who carries around a gun would immediately notice the difference. Mags and bullets have weight to them. Not only that but the centre of balance feels different without them.


You don't know much about guns, huh. Lol.

Chapter 3: Committing Crimes, but Better​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.

Click to shrink...

What's with the formatting? Why did you choose grey instead of black text colour for couple chapters? It makes them very hard to read.

 

[transhumansage]

"I'm not going to get to eat this in peace, am I?"

Click to shrink...

he should ask the shield agent to wait while he quickly finishes the steak and use that time while she is waiting to telepathically converse with his friends and get the whats what.

 

[Zone04]

he should ask the shield agent to wait while he quickly finishes the steak and use that time while she is waiting to telepathically converse with his friends and get the whats what.

Click to shrink...

Should just get up, take his plate, and actually just move to another table. If that's not enough of a 'let me fucking eat' message, then I honestly don't know.

Genuinely the disrespect here is crazy. Interrupting a man trying to eat in peace is... Something.

 

[WaywardWriter]

Chapter 23: Merits of Communication and Fragile Hopes​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.

---

The midday sun continued to hang high in the sky over the busy city of London, its harsh rays bearing down on the crowds of people walking back and forth on the streets towards whatever destination they had in mind. Families, couples and friends taking advantage of the last few days of summer before the shift into Fall. Cars honking and boats blowing their horns out by the river.

All background noise as I cut into my steak and raised a piece to my mouth. My teeth bit into the expertly cooked meat, the flesh practically melting on contact.

An explosion of flavor hit my tastebuds like a grenade. Each chew eliciting more juices from the piece and sending wave after wave of flavor, culminating in a final swallow that went down without resistance. I ruminated on the wonderful experience.

I then let out a long, content breath.

"Now that." I began, my head tilting back with an incredibly pleased smile. "Is the answer to everything. Life, love, death. Meaning of existence. We've always had it…And it is juicy."

Agent Vicki continued staring as I rambled, her formerly outstretched hand now back at her side. I cut another piece in the interim and idly chewed with the absolutely necessary amount of vocal enjoyment it deserved (seriously though, compliments to the chief, this steak is fire).

Seeing her still staring, I glanced at her with a dry look.

"Well?" I began and saw her tilt her head forward at that. "If you're waiting for further introduction then I don't see why. You know my name and now I know yours. Let's just get this over with."

"You're willing to hear me out?" She asked, blinking a few times, and I quirked a brow.

"Were you expecting me to refuse?"

"Somewhat…" She admitted lowly. "Usually by this point I'd get a blank look, followed by a middle finger and told to 'fuck off'. Even when I approach in a friendly manner."

"You must meet a lot of rude Super Powered."

"…Wouldn't be fair to call it rude when we're not known for our good timing either." The Shield Agent said and I couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"At least you're self-aware. Now tell me what you want to so I can finish my meal without a spook breathing down my neck."

I continued to eat after saying my piece, and the woman licked her lips for a moment before sitting back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"I imagine you have a good idea as to why I'm here Mr. Tolansky and interrupting your tour around of our beautiful city. Barring the obvious of course."

"Well that's the laziest way to get a confession I've ever heard."

That comment earned a snort from her. Rubbing her thumb on the folder for a moment (but not actually opening it), Vicki relaxed her shoulders ever so slightly and smiled at me.

"We've been following your movement since you left Bayville." Choosing to rip that fact out of the gate, the Shield Agent paused for a moment before continuing when I didn't react. "Well, not us specifically, but the department in America in charge of that task. Though I get the feeling you already had an idea we were watching."

"I did." I admitted casually. Considering how Shield in most universes make it their job to handle threats of the superpowered variety and his past with Wolverine, it made sense that Fury had placed eyes on the Brotherhood and X-Men long ago. Especially when they were both in the same place and didn't have the tendency to move around.

Yes, I always had suspicions that my departure was noticed by someone in Shield. I just relied on the fact that Toad wasn't the most powerful or all that important of a Mutant to go about my life without worry of being bothered. It seemed to work.

Until now that was.

"From the reports given; you've made it quite the task to fully keep a bead on your positioning. Moving from state to state, city to city with no real rhyme or reason and never going back to the same place twice. You would often get a hotel at whatever you arrived but from there you would go about exploring your surroundings. The people in charge of your case had spent a good deal of time theorizing what it was you were doing, if it was some grander plans or mission given by your leader. It was only after seeing you consistently call your friends back home to talk about your travels and sending them pictures but never contacting Mystique was that theory thrown in the trash bin."

I listened dispassionately as she described my travels with eerie accuracy. It wasn't hard to play off my nonchalance because I truly wasn't surprised. If I thought for a second that I could actually hide my movements from Shield, even if I was trying to, then something has gone terribly wrong. No way I've organically grown that delusional.

The Shield Agent must have picked up on that because she immediately opened the folder and turned it to face me. My eyes slid past the walls of text on the front page, focusing on the black and white pictures at the bottom alongside names of places.

"But you've been quite busy recently." She said as I looked at multiple pictures of a familiar small town in Georgia, buildings with varying degrees of destruction and holes in the streets. Next to them were pictures of the diner I went to with diner Nadya and Hiroka, along with the abandoned Camp Cathcart facility Lionel and I used. "The Rising Sons, Orchis, the Clarity Syndicate, Weapon Plus…you've come into contact with an eclectic number of groups in a very short amount of time."

"Would you believe me if I said I was completely minding my own business for most of that time?" I drawled though internally I was wondering who the fuck was the Clarity Syndicate. I feel I would remember them with a name like that.

"Yes, actually. You've had no previous interactions with these groups to our knowledge. And you seem to dislike it very much when your relaxing evening is intruded upon by shady organizations." If she noticed the irony in what she said the Shield Agent didn't show it (though I still gave her a dull look for that).

"I mean…yeah. Who wouldn't dislike that?"

"You'd be surprised." Vicki simply said and I hummed as she turned the page, more words on this one with the only pictures being that of a wrought iron door with an eagle on it and an empty metal casket. "Your most recent actions however have earned a certain level of scrutiny. So much so that we unfortunately can no longer ignore an untethered element like yourself without some form of…oversight."

My hand holding the fork froze as I went for one of the grilled potatoes on the side. Seemingly catching how I stiffened, the Shield Agent slowly raised her hands in a placating manner.

"That wasn't a threat. I apologize if it came out like that. I'm just stating a fact of how we do things. We just hope being transparent now will avoid any misunderstandings in future interactions."

"...And what does that entail, exactly?" I asked, my hand continuing its course and popping a potato in my mouth, though it was a little hard to focus on the taste when Vicki hesitated. The woman thinned her lips and fell into thought for a second, obviously thinking over how to say the next part without coming off as antagonistic (I hoped anyway).

"Shield's directive has always revolved around peacekeeping, upholding the laws of all nations and counter terrorism. We make it our job to recognize threats to the world's greater security and go about creating preemptive measures against known and potential threats. No matter what form they take."

"And now I'm a potential threat you want to manage?"

"Not exactly. We want to establish relations because you can't seem to stay out of trouble."

My thoughts came to a screeching halt. Slowly raising my head to look at her totally serious face, I wondered for a second if I heard her right.

"Excuse me?"

"Speaking candidly, I've been doing my job for a long time. I've met many Super Powered of the heroic inclination, freelance mercenaries and rogue elements. Have touched base with truly chaotic individuals who care little for societal norms and abhor the idea of living peaceful lives…and not a single one of them surpasses your ability to land in the kind of shit you do."

"Now hang on-"

"I've seen fellow agents spend years locating terrorist cells and tracking groups that actively work to eliminate any chance for a free world. Even Heroes have to go looking for trouble when they want to do something. You on the other hand? You just 'mind your business', actively try to avoid such nonsense and somehow still get involved in such groups. It's…It's almost supernatural how easy it is for you."

"I think you're exaggerating! It's not some supernatural gift!"

"Really? Then what would you call making enemies of an underworld organization that peddles advanced alien weaponry, a program dedicated to creating a new wave of Super Soldiers and multiple factions of a splintered Nazi group? All within one month."

"…I mean, I never said my luck was goo-Wait, when did I piss off a bunch of Nazis?" I asked with a frown to which Vicki gave me a long stare.

"Seriously?" She asked with a disbelieving look. "You brought back their greatest enemy. A man who was one of leading reasons they lost the previous world war, who killed both of their highest-ranking leaders and will definitely be a pain in the ass for them in the current age, and you think they won't take exception with the one responsible for their woes if they find out?"

…Oh.

I…I did not think about that…Shit.

'Holy fuck. You actually were the one that cured him!?!'

I tried not jump when Rogue's voice echoed in my mind. I didn't forget about my other captive audience but her reaction came with way more visceral force than I was expecting. I also wasn't expecting her voice to come through after Tabitha. I gave my best attempt at projecting my annoyance inward.

'Oi! Can the peanut gallery not give running commentary right now? I'm trying to focus here.'

Blessedly, no more comments came after that. The pressure was still there but I had no one else chiming in right now so I focused on Vicki, who was giving me an oddly curious look.

"That still doesn't answer where this leaves us. What do you usually do with an 'untethered element' like me?"

"Usually? This would be the part where I have to do my civic duty and highlight the benefits and sense of purpose working for Shield has given-"

"Hard pass." I shut that down immediately though she didn't look all that put off. She even gave a bemused huff. "No offense to your choice in profession. Being a super-secret agent for an organization that protects the whole world definitely sounds…Okay, I was trying to be a little sarcastic but that does sound pretty fucking awesome."

"I agree. And it is." Vicki said with no small amount of smugness and I smirked.

"But I don't see myself being a particularly good spy. Don't think I have the patience or the temperament for it."

"How would you know if you've never tried?" She asked with a quirked brow. "With enough training and dedication, anyone in theory could be a decent spy. Not to mention your abilities would net you a greater than average posting right out of the gate."

"Really trying to sell it huh?"

"I'm stating the reality of things. No matter what department you enter, your status as a Mutant will grant you certain privileges others could only dream about. It would foolish not to mention it in my pitch."

I accepted the honesty with a nod but didn't say much more. There was also the thing of doing missions or following orders I just wouldn't agree with and a conflict of interests will arise once I voice those opinions.

I've lived the life of a "loyal" soldier that never asked questions once already. I wasn't about to go back. Seeing my answer wasn't changing, Vicki exhaled softly and began rummaging in her jacket.

My brows rose when she pulled out a device that looked remarkably like a smart phone from the future. Handheld sized with a reflective touch screen and camera on the back she placed it on the table and I saw it even had a couple buttons on the sides. My confusion and surprise only grew when she slid it my way.

I gingerly picked it up after she motioned for me to take it. Being cool to the touch I clicked the topmost bottom and the screen lit up, the time appearing on the front alongside the symbol for Shield a little lower.

"Since you aren't interested in joining us then the next best thing we can do is establish a line of communication. As it stands, we have no authority to restrain your ability to move around the world. Not that we would have when you haven't given us cause to."

"Is that right…"

"It is. If anything, the Director wished for me to deliver his thanks. Very recently a…complicated matter arose and your timely actions granted us an opportunity to handle it without great personal cost to the agency. For that he's grateful."

I gave her a curious glance but the Shield Agent didn't elaborate so I had to let it go. Still. Having Nick Fury's gratitude? That sounded like something very handy to have for a rainy day.

"Anyway. Since you'll be traveling and will continue to stumble into further trouble-"

"I don't like how you consider that a guarantee-"

"This is a means for you to contact Shield HQ, or the nearest Shield Base in the event you're far from any civilization. It could also act as an emergency beacon. Essentially, we want you to keep us open as an option whenever you come into contact with groups like Orchis, Weapon Plus and/or Hydra. Be it before or after a fight. We'll deal with the fallout and wider logistics from that point. To a certain extent anyway."

"…So let me get this straight." Fully placing my fork down, I held up the phone to her with an odd expression. "If I ever come across any number of the assholes I've pissed off in my travels, or even meet new ones and decide I just…don't want to deal with them, I can just call you guys to handle it? Wipe my hands of whatever crap I stumble upon, call it not my problem and make it yours? Just like that?"

"Essentially. Granted we wouldn't mind some information to help us along, we'd take it off your hands yes."

"…You seem very accepting of being a clean-up crew for a viciously independent dickhead who was lucky enough to get Superpowers." I said in incredulity and that, of all things, got a genuine laugh from the woman.

"Kid, dealing with and cleaning up after powerful, willful dickheads is already a large part of my responsibilities. If half of them willingly kept us abreast of their battles or even just mentioned them to us after the fact? Our job would be much, much easier…"

I leaned back slightly at her wistful tone before looking at the phone in my hand again. Softly shaking her head, Vicki tilted her head.

"So. Do you have any questions for me?"

"…Just one." I said and faced the screen towards her. "Can I use this like a regular phone?"

"…I beg your pardon?" Vicki blinked.

"You know, use it to call my friends, send them messages and photos."

"…Yes. It can be used for that."

"Swee-"

"And all the calls and messages will be accessible by the Agent in charge of that device. It is a government issued phone. You…You do know that, right?"

"That's fine." If I ever needed to call someone for something important than I'd just go about finding a payphone that allows international calls. Otherwise, I didn't really care if some Agent listened in as I talked about random crap with my friends and see the pictures of my travels. It's their time they were wasting.

The woman stared blankly at me as I held the device before shaking her head again and standing up.

"I'm glad we could come to an understanding. If there's nothing else than I'll be on my way." She said while grabbing the folder and smiling down at me. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Tolansky. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

I watched as she turned around and walked down the street. Reaching the end of the block, she moved towards a black car parked on the curb and a dark-skinned man in plain clothes leaning against the bumper. She straightforwardly entered the backseat and the man (who I realized was facing this way the whole time) gave me a single glance before stepping away from the bumper and entering the driver's side.

I kept watching until the car pulled away and drove out of sight entirely.

'Well.' I thought idly. 'That was something.'

'Indeed.' Xavier's said, the older man's voice coming through with its usual soft authority. 'I must say, you handled that very well Mr. Tolansky.'

'Did I?'

'Yes. I have had many interactions with Shield and its Agents in the past. They are a tenacious sort when it comes to cases involving Mutants and others with great power; an understandable attitude to have I'll admit when dealing with those who would use their gifts for ill will. In that regard their mission is a noble one and you were wise to extend a hand rather than respond with a fist.'

'Careful old man, you almost make it sound like I should trust them.'

'In certain factors. The leaders of Shield are ultimately people with hidden and not so hidden agendas but I've also known plenty of Agents that firmly believe in upholding the tenants the organization was created for so long ago. It was the same with the woman you were speaking with. I could sense no falsehoods from her whenever she spoke about the purpose of her visit.'

'Hmm. Got to admit, pretty terrifying you could just piggyback off someone else's head and be a human lie detector from half the world away.'

'I was just skimming her surface thoughts.' Xavier relayed with stern sincerity (God this telepathic link shit is weird). 'Nothing intrusive I swear.'

'That still sounds pretty fucking intrusive.' I thought back, before exhaling softly. 'But thanks for the info. It puts some of my worries to rest at least.'

'It was my pleasure Mr. Tolansky.' Xavier thought kindly. 'That being said. You are aware that they're going to track your movements through that device, right?'

'Of course.' I wouldn't expect any less. 'But they'd be able to find me if they really wanted to anyway. They proved it just now. I might as well get some use out of it.' That and I can always leave the phone somewhere if I don't want them to track my exact location or find someone tech savvy enough to tinker with it.

'That's…practical, I suppose.'

'Yea, yea, secret agent people want him on dial for late night booty calls.' Tabitha's exasperated voice came through again. 'Crazy as that is, can we talk about the elephant in the room? The Super Soldier sized elephant?'

'Don't be giving the universe ideas now.' It's bad enough when assholes gain enhanced abilities. I did not want to meet what it considers the peak of elephant kind.

'Todd.' Tabitha admonished (how rare…) and I thinned my lips in response.

'How many people are on this call right now?'

'At the moment? Just young Tabitha, Rogue and I.' Xavier said. 'They requested for this meeting and asked for it to remain amongst ourselves.'

'Cap did say he wanted to keep his involvement a secret…'

I smiled at Rogue's (somehow) murmured thought in the link and shook my head.

'I appreciate the discretion.'

'So it actually was you who saved him?'

'Yeah-'

'AH HA! I fucking told you! Pay up!' Tabitha projected her excitement loudly and Rogue's annoyance spiked before simmering to a begrudging acceptance.

'…But I didn't make the cure, I was just the delivery boy. I promised the one who created it that'd I keep this quiet so do me a favor and don't go spreading this out.'

'We won't.' Rogue promised and I nodded in thanks.

'…Well…'

'Well what?' I frowned at Tabitha's words and narrowed my eyes at the prolonged silence. 'Tabitha.'

'Oh calm down. I'm fucking with you.' The Bomb Mutant said with a mental snort. 'Wanda totally knows though…Maybe Lance too. He was in the house when we tried to call you on the landline after your number kept sending us straight to voicemail.'

'Tabitha!'

'What?! She watched the conference too! She already knew by the time I got to her and she can keep a secret, relax.'

'She isn't the one I'm worried about…'

I haven't talked to Lance in a while. Not since the time in the home of the Morlocks and our unfortunate last conversation when he brushed off my advice to not trust everything Mystique said.

Looking back, had I tried to warn Lance before I told everyone about my departure, perhaps I would have a better chance convincing him to be more careful in the future and not be held to the whims of a shapeshifting heartless bitch.

I've sent him messages in the past, trying to get a dialogue going and see how he was doing but he never responded back. Both Wanda and Fred said he avoided talking about me in any form when they hanged out, even growing annoyed whenever I did come up in conversation.

I wasn't surprised. Lance could hold a grudge like no one else I knew and my abandonment of the Brotherhood hit the guy real hard. If he did know and the knowledge gets to Pietro and Mystique…

I bit the inside of my cheek, careful not to panic and think of the worst-case scenario. I'd just have to be more cautious in the future. If either of them came looking for answers and try to force them out of me, then I was more than happy to prove why that's a mistake.

'Forgive me for interrupting again.' Xavier said cutting through the chatter. 'But is it alright for me to tell one other person? They are not one to be victim to loose lips that I assure you …and they wish to thank you for something else you did long ago.'

I tilted my head slightly at that, already having a clue who he was talking about. I quietly listened as he told me about Steve's visit to the Manor and the reunion with Logan, Tabitha and Rogue giving their own renditions of the event. I chuckled when the Bomb Mutant swore up and down he looked ready to cry and Rogue mentioned how they spent hours in the main wing telling stories about the war with the rest of the X-Men before drinking on the terrace for the rest of the night together (I would have loved to see that actually).

I realized Xavier's was waiting for my decision after they were done and I shrugged.

'I know who you're talking about and sure, I'm fine with him knowing. But you can tell him to keep his thanks. Like I said to Tabs for the Trask stuff and Cap, it was just dumb luck.'

'…I'll be sure to mention that.'

Xavier's presence was suppressed after that, not totally gone but resting somewhere in the background to allow the other two to talk. I went back to eating as I spoke with Tabitha and Rogue for a bit, asking how things have been for them since the reveal of Mutantkind and all the problems that brought.

Knowing how antisocial the Power Siphoner could be on a good day and the special brand of crazy the Bomb Mutant attracted, I wasn't surprised to hear that they didn't see much change in their everyday social lives. If anything, the reveal had brought the mansion's occupants closer together with how normal people outside were keeping the Mutants at arm's length. There were those who tried to constantly harass them in the initial weeks but it had died down in recent times.

Rogue mentioned how Bayville High had tried to do an investigation into the X-Men, seeing if they were connected to prior strange occurrences around the campus and unexplained property damage. With the unfair attention Mutants were getting…and the fact that a lot of those incidents were caused by them (she didn't appreciate it when I laughed at that), Xavier had to foot a pretty heft bill to smooth some things over.

'Then there was Principal Kelly trying to get us kicked out, citing how we're "irresponsible with our powers" and "a danger to the other students". What a load of crap.'

'…' I tried to keep my thoughts as blank as humanly possible when Tabitha was the one to say that. She must not have noticed my silence because she laughed right after.

'But jokes on that prick! After Cap's speech he pretended his whole plan never happened and there's a rumor that the school's board of directors is planning to can his ass! Serves him right.'

'Tabitha…' Xavier's chimed in with an exhausted voice. 'Please don't derive pleasure from a man losing his livelihood.'

'Why not? He's a bigoted asshole.'

'Perhaps, but we should always strive to avoid indulging in such petty conduct and treat others with basic class and respect, even if they don't deserve it.'

'…I'm starting to remember why I left this place before.'

I shook my head in amusement as she got an impromptu lecture and continued eating.

I finished my diner just as the conversation was coming to an end. Promising to keep in contact more (which I could easily do now), Tabitha made me promise to call the Brotherhood house as soon as I could. They had grown worried with my near month-long radio silence.

Waving a waiter over to pay the bill, I released a deep breath as the pressure on my head finally disappeared and their psionic presences faded. It was funny what you realize isn't there after having it in your head for the better part of an hour.

…A-Are we good? They gone?

'I have no idea.' I said honestly, paying for my meal and standing with a groan. 'While we haven't given him a reason to distrust us, there's no real way to truly know with a telepath on Xavier's level. I'm sure he has his ways of staying in a person's mind without them knowing.'

Right…Fucking telepaths man. What a pain in the ass.

I gave an amused smile at the faint grumbling as I left the restaurant and began walking back to Lionael's house.

Do you think he noticed anything?

'Doubtful.' If he did, he would have definitely said something about it. 'Though we probably should look into this little thing we got going on one day.'

The hell you mean by that?

'Exactly what I said.' I clarified and snorted at his surprise. 'Aren't you curious about this whole setup we got? Don't you want to figure out exactly what you are; if you're just an echo or an actual piece of the former Toad's soul? We should really get an expert's opinion on this if we can.'

…Huh.

'What?'

Nothing. I…I just thought you planned to never speak about it in fear of others finding out. Or not wanting to learn the truth in case it makes you feel guilty or something.

I had thought about it like that, once upon a time. I assumed for a long time the original Toad was fully gone and my arrival caused some sort of rift in his memories that manifested as an echo.

Nowadays I wasn't nearly as sure. He's been in my head for far too long. If he was just an echo than fully accepting my new lot in life would have had him fade away (I'm guessing, I wasn't all that knowledgeable on this kind of stuff) but he was still here. Not to mention at times he seemed to…evolve in his thinking, still bearing his former Toad like mannerisms and humor but learning from my experiences and choices. As if he was his own separate consciousness and not a random mental program by a mind forced to kick its old tenant out to make room for a new one.

If he was a tangible piece of the former Toad's soul then there was probably something that could be done about it. Maybe even get him a new body or something. We were in a Marvel Universe after all; crazy shit like that was normal around these parts.

You'd really do that for me?

'Of course. Why wouldn't I?' I asked and furrowed my brows when he fell silent. 'Do you not want to leave?'

N-No! Of course I'd love to get my own body back! Or…any body really. I-it's just.…No one's ever done something like that for me.

My steps slowed at that. Pausing in the middle of the sidewalk, I looked around at the random section of the city I stopped at and rolled my jaw.

'That's not-'

If you're going to say 'that's not true' then you can keep it. You have my memories. You know I'm right. No one ever gave a shit about me before you showed up.

'Really? So Fred sharing his lunch with you whenever you couldn't find any bugs to eat, or Lance having your back against your bullies in school, or even Pietro clumsily trying to cheer you with a blind date after Wanda blasted you from the second floor. Those don't count as 'giving a shit about you'?'

…

'That's what I thought.' I bit back. 'I get you may not have had the best life but don't pretend it was all bad. At least you have memories of people caring about you to look back on.'

…Sorry man.

'It's fine.' I've long gotten over it. Hard to mourn what you don't remember. I continued walking, falling into thought for a moment before taking a calming breath. 'Look, this probably won't happen for a while. It's just an option I want to leave open, alright?'

…I'm game.

'Good. And it won't be Xavier. We'll try to find an unbiased and neutral expert if we can help it.'

Oh thank fuck. Nothing against the guy personally; he just always gave me the creeps.

Snorting lightly, I reached Lionel's house after another 20 minutes, arriving to see the front door somewhat ajar. I found the old man in the living room, sitting on the couch and staring at a cup of coffee on the table.

"You're…back." I said, not quite able to hide my surprise and Lionel absentmindedly nodded.

"Yeah." Was all he said. Glancing between him and the cold coffee I stepped into the living room after a moment's hesitation. Taking the spot next to him on the couch, I leaned on the armrest and gave him an imploring look.

"So." I began. "How did it go?"

Lionel didn't answer immediately. Continuing to stare at the cup, the old man kept a totally blank for a long minute before responding with-

"I told her."

"…Told her what?"

There was another lull.

"Everything."

She was happy at first, Lionel said. The shock of seeing him having led to euphoria and instant acceptance of him into her home, asking few questions due to sheer joy save for how he was, where he was this whole time and when he got here.

From there she spent most of the morning and afternoon introducing him to her daughter and husband. She gave him a tour of the house, showed him pictures and talked about everything that's happened since they last spoke years ago. He got to properly meet his son in law and shake his hand. Got to hear the story about their wedding and their time together in London.

"I got to hold my granddaughter again." Lionel said, his eyes gaining a faraway look as he openly reminisced. "I only ever held her when she was a baby. She was so light then…"

He got swept up in the reunion. In seeing her so happy to see him, in actually having a face-to-face conversation with the only family he had and not just viewing them in pictures taken in secret. By the time it hit midday and he was invited to eat with them, it took all of Lionel's willpower to reject the offer and do what he came there to do.

Because he knew any longer with them and he wouldn't be able to summon the strength to do it. So it was once they were done talking, and he had a moment alone with his daughter, that the floodgates erupted.

Lionel admitted to everything. To why they had to move around so much in her early life. To why he had to keep his work life a secret and could never to tell her. To his past, to the reasons he left and why he didn't contact her after so long.

What he tried to spare her from by being near him…and how his return would be a short lived one, if she so wished.

Even Lionel thought it was unfair for him to arrive like he did and dump the truth on her without warning. To intrude on her peaceful life with his miserable, ugly one and taint the memory of the man she once thought he was.

On the other hand, spending weeks if not months reconnecting, being around them and integrating himself into their lives before telling the truth felt…worse, in a way. As if he was trying to stack the deck in his favor and make it harder for them to sever the newfound relationship once they learn the truth.

Either way didn't sound like the correct approach but one way felt far less morally ambiguous and manipulative than the other.

"I told her what I did. Of the sins I willingly committed and pretended I didn't for so many years a-and…"

"And?" I echoed and Lionel took a shaky breath.

"And I left…after promising to come back for dinner one of these days for a proper talk."

"…I see…" I recoiled a little at that, more than a little surprised at her choice and he must have agreed because he softly shook his head.

"She didn't understand a lot of what I was saying." Lionel said with a bitter smile. "She admitted as much. And I don't blame her. Rebirth, Camp Cathcart, Weapon Plus and the like are too removed from civilian life to easily grasp in a single afternoon. The parts she did understand? It scared her. I scared her…But she's willing to try and not be."

It was hard to properly describe just how much hope that last line seemed to give Lionel in the moment.

Each word before was a blow to his self-esteem, a rehash of old wounds and what remained was kept afloat by that promise. A flimsy promise in all honesty but I got the feeling it was far more than Lionel ever expected to get. I didn't know quite know what to say.

So I didn't. Placing a hand on his back in silent support, I stayed there for him as he thought on the opportunity he was given. It wasn't forgiveness. Not after his confession but there was a chance. A hope to be a part of their lives again. A small, fragile one. And sometimes?

Sometimes that was all you needed.

---

A/N: The chapter got heavy near the end there. An unavoidable outcome I'm afraid. While SITodd is more understanding and open minded about Lionel's past, especially knowing he didn't have much choice in the equation since he got involved as a teenager, for the average person it wouldn't be the same.

Granted, while it hasn't been readily explained outright but Lionel was never a bad father. I'd even go as far as to say he was a pretty decent one. An after effect of his close but later greatly decayed relationship with Great Papa Nagel. That prior relationship he had with his daughter in her early life is doing a lot of the heavy lifting in turning what would be hopeless attempt to reconnect into one that has somewhat of a chance. Considering he admitted to being a part of a program that conducted several highly amoral experiments on innocent men and women; after disappearing for close to a decade and he'll take whatever win he can get.

As for OG Toad, it was bound to become a greater plot point to figure out why it is SITodd has the original still knocking around in his head (or if it even is him) and being dragged along for the ride in his new life. It's been a while so I wouldn't be surprised if most people have forgotten but the SI came into Toad's life with no real memory of a previous one. Just vivid information of X Men Evolution, which has very rarely been relevant to him since he's gone so far off script, scattered ones of other Marvel related media, basic common sense and empathy and…not much else. He kind of had to live Toad's life or fess up to being an OOC problem, leaving his fate in the hands of someone else and potentially being shunted to a worse situation.

And while that fear hadn't truly fully gone away, after everything he's been through and the understanding they've come to, SITodd is at least willing to make an effort and help OG Toad out.

From a position that won't fuck him over completely of course. His sense of self preservations hasn't fully gone away after all.

I hope you enjoyed.

 

[SpectreOfChaos]

Yay new chapter

 

[Carlos99]

Thanks for the chapter!!

 

[ApatheticArchivist]

Thanks for the chapter!

The heavier parts of the chapter were handled really well, and weren't over done or too drawn out. Excellent as always!

 

[AliceHealer]

Hey could you fix the font colour on chapter 3? Cool story btw.

 

[CoolJacketjack]

the Supernatural also raged in the backgroundand made a crazy world even nuttier.

Click to shrink...

When it comes to the supernatural the most obvious ones for Toad to encounter would be the Vampires and the Vampire Hunter Blade.

Spoiler: Midnight Suns Prequel: Blade

View: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=owWo7Lgq4A0&pp=ygUTTWlzbmlnaHQgc3VucyBibGFkZQ%3D%3D&ra=m

In the Blade Movie he had to fight the Vampire Deacon Frost after he became the avatar of the patron deity of vampires the Blood god La Magra.

Spoiler: Blade Movie: Deacon Frost becomes the Blood God

View: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Ij54VBObMDc&pp=ygUPQmxhZGUgYmxvb2QgZ29k&ra=m

Sin is one of the leaders of Hydra from the Midnight Suns games that had her Hydra cell focusing on researching Vampiric lore like the Magna Corrigo.
After Sin was turned into a vampire she had her Hydra cell turned into Campires with her loyal forces consisting of Turned Hydra Troopers and Turned Hydra Mystics as well as Vampyre's making up the bulk of her forces.

Spoiler: Midnight Suns: Sin and Vampyres

View: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4nbqi__sDIQ&pp=ygURTWlkbmlnaHQgc3VucyBzaW4%3D&ra=m

Vampires are always plotting to take over the world so they'd be fun enemies for Toad to fight with his new Marsh fire and Bog fire slime.