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.

 

[WaywardWriter]

Chapter 24: Late Nights and the Strange Guests They Bring​

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

---

It was the year 927 AD. By order of King Æthelstan of House Wessex, Ruler of the Anglo-Saxons, his army conquered the last Viking kingdom of York in the isles, officially becoming the first King of a politically unified England. With the previous colonies brought to heel under his Grandfather Alfred the Great, Æthelstan sought to expand the borders of his nascent Kingdom and invaded the neighboring Scotland years later in 34.

Successfully forcing its ruler to submit, his reign bred great resentment from the Scots and Vikings. With a coalition formed between the King of Dublin (who was keeping close eyes on the situation), the Kings of Scotland and Strathclyde, House Wessex's armies met their combined armies in 937 AD on the fields of Bromborough. Later known as the Battle of Brunanburh, it was widely to be considered one of the most important events of the British Isle's history.

And while there were many characters involved that influenced the outcome of the battle, one of the most famous figures was the Champion of House Wessex and Senior Thane to the King himself, Winfrith.

Having faced off against the three Champions of the opposing coalition on the field, he cut down all three with miraculous abilities supposedly granted to him by a powerful relic.

A relic known as the Sword of Might.

So that's obviously just Excalibur with a different name, right?

'…Why the fuck are you asking me like I would know?' My scattered meta knowledge didn't exactly come with a play by play of this universe's British history.

Pan said all myths were real, didn't he? And we know magic is too. It's possible this dude was just using Excalibur and they named it something else.

'He said most creatures from myth were real. Not that all myths were particularly accurate.' Odds are they were still as overblown and exaggerated as ever, a byproduct of being written by humans with limited scope of the world's true structure. 'After all, we know Pantheons like the ones Thor and Hercules are from aren't actually filled with omnipotent beings that could destroy and spawn entire planets and living beings with their mere will.'

…At least I think so. Quietly praying that I didn't end up in one of those hypothetical universes filled with such grossly powerful entities, I continued to flip through the thick book in my hand, trying to skim the long paragraphs to find what I wanted. The little corner of the British Library I commandeered for myself was left relatively undisturbed from the mid-morning hour.

There was much conjecture on the relic. Many historians in the early days argued over its existence and of the Champion himself. Mysteriously disappearing a few years after the Battle of Brunanburh, the supposed Sword of Might disappeared with him. With no one claiming ownership over it, many believed it to be a tall tale to boost the reputation of House Wessex.

That was until it reappeared in the year 1066 AD with the arrival of William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy. Appearing in the hands of a mounted knight on the invading force, he was instrumental in routing King Harold's army at the Battle of Hastings and many veteran soldiers reported that the same abilities showcased by him were remarkedly similar to those possessed by Winfrith.

It appeared again in 1215 AD though it saw no involvement in a martial conflict. Instead it was seen during the sealing of the Magna Carta when the then King John was forced to limit his royal power by rebellious Barons. This made it possible for the monarchy and government to be held subject to the law. These principles shaped many of modern constitutional laws and democracies in the current age.

A pattern was quickly noticed. Whenever a great upheaval or pivotal moment in Britian's history occurred, the Sword of Might would appear to affect the ultimate outcome of that moment. The description of the relic and the abilities granted were too eerily similar despite the long gaps in time that its existence could no longer be denied. Nor could they be attributed to one person in particular due to the constant shifting in loyalty and aspirations.

Damn. There went my idea of an Immortal King Arthur living here and protecting his country from the shadows.

The final concession across all historian groups is that much of the current form of England and Great Britian as a whole could be traced back by the actions of those who used the Sword of Might.

I read that part with great curiosity. I was no history buff; Hell I couldn't remember what country I was originally born in but I knew that most Marvel worlds were supposed to mirror the real one. Of course, this being an Earth with magic, super science and other dimensional nonsense in it, lots of its past incorporated one or two of those aspects in a way to give it more life. It was fun to see such things being recorded so matter of fact and serious than fictional.

Apparently, the last time the Sword of Might was seen in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. While people with spectacular powers were a known factor in this day and age, changing how strange incidents in history and old myths were perceived, it was still up in the air whether the Sword of Might was some sort of hyper advanced alien technology or the lingering expression of an immensely strong Super Powered.

Magic, however, was not one of the explanations considered.

I didn't find that surprising. With no Doctor Strange running around and routinely dealing with very obviously supernatural threats on live television, the existence of magic was still something most people didn't believe in.

Even with real magic in front of us in the form of Wanda and that freaky old lady Mystique brought around to teach her, me and the guys still never came around to believing it. Even when the lady started turning random object into living things or twisting parts of the mansion into weird alien shapes, we still thought she was just another Mutant…Yeah, in hindsight, we were pretty dumb for that.

'I wouldn't really call it dumb.' The thing about scenarios like that is that the simplest answer is often the one people went to. In a way, with this universe full of so many superpowers and strange alien technology, people had even more ways to explain away unexplainable shit than a normal world. 'And with just how much impossible crap science can accomplish, it stands to reason even people like Reed Richards and Tony Stark think magic is just a science no one has figured out yet.'

I've recently gained a fascination on reading up on a place's ancient history and trying to see if the stories rung any bells up in the old noggin, be it for mythical stories or anything I could remember from the comics.

In terms of the Superpowered scene, this country didn't have many Superheroes and the like running around compared to the States. Besides the sporadically appearing Sword of Might and its users, Union Jack during World War 2 and some dude called Dr. Druid with plant-based powers in Ireland, there wasn't much else. Even on the Supervillain side of things (though that was admittedly a plus rather than negative).

On the other hand, England and the United Kingdoms in general had a lot of folklore and myth for me to skim through.

The Scottish and their stories of the Kelpie, the Loch Ness Monster and its national Unicorn. The Irish and their Fairies, Fomorians and Celtic Deities. The latter in particular were widely worshiped across Western and Central Europe like Wales and Scotland (though often by other names). The old Legends of Beowulf and Tale of Robin Hood.

And, of course, the story of King Arthur and Avalon.

With places like Atlantis and Kamar Taj out there and real, I knew that the mystical country had to have existed at one point and probably still did…Somewhere. Most likely in some hard-to-get to forgotten corner of the world, a place hidden by magic or even an alternate dimension. How to get there is up to anyone's guess though.

Oh, oh! I bet the way in is through a trial to impress one of the departed Knights of the Round Table, like beating their spirits in a fight or doing a heroic quest!

'…'

What? I've been paying attention.

Right…Well, even if it was something like that, just finding the front door was going to be a challenge with no solid information to go off on. Avalon was said to be a place shrouded in mystery and "lost to time" once Camelot fell and King Arthur died. Its location was fiercely debated subject among scholars, despite the general consensus being it was all fictional.

Jotting down where scholars theorized Avalon formerly was, or where the inspiration for the myths originated from, I stored the list away for the future. Most of them were spots I could reach by car with only a few of them requiring a boat to get to some islands near the Isle of Man.

I planned to take a tour of the United Kingdom's anyway. Might as well go clue hunting for a lost mythical kingdom while I was at it.

I left the library after a few hours of casual research. Passing by random civilians and colleges students entering, I stopped at a bakery to buy a couple muffins, bacon egg and cheese sandwiches and a few sausage rolls (I've been eating a lot of those) on my way to Lionel's.

The British Library was just a short walk from the house so I arrived back sometime after 12, the wider neighborhood just awaking from the morning slog and more people hitting the streets.

"I'm back!" I half yelled as I stepped through the front door, taking off my shoes and placing them on a nearby rack. "Yo doc, I got breakfast! You hungry?"

I didn't get an answer back. Walking into the living room and looking around curiously for a minute, my gaze landed on a yellow post it on the dining table. Placing the bag full of food on the table, I picked it up and read it.

Was invited to bring Kali to her first day of ballet with her parents. Will be back later tonight. - Lionel

​

I smiled at the straight and to the point message. It's been nearly three weeks since Lionel had reunited with his family, beginning the slow process of reconnecting and mending bridges after his confession.

Time the old man has not spent in vain. After going to the promised dinner the weekend of the first week; an initially awkward affair that somewhat transitioned into a pleasant, quiet evening once he got to clear the air a little more with his daughter and her husband, who was brought into the fold on the second meeting.

He had taken the truth about what Lionel did with even greater surprise than his daughter but gave the older man a chance at his wife's word. His main worry was if Lionel's presence would place his family in danger from the many dangerous groups he was associated with in his past (which was fair).

The doc…he admitted he couldn't promise with 100 percent certainty that his actions wouldn't come to haunt him. But Lionel swore that if it did, he would do everything in his power to make sure only he would suffer for them. It didn't fully appease her husband but he chose to follow his wife's lead and spent the rest of the night being as gracious a host as he could be.

That bit of acceptance did more for Lionel than he'd probably ever know.

Since then Lionel spent almost every waking moment trying to make up for lost time. Helping his daughter with whatever she needed, babysitting his granddaughter when the parents had to work, doing little fixes around the house and yard.

Even odd jobs and errands like buying groceries or getting deliveries from the post office, the old man was up for anything. Anything to build some good will and spend more time around them.

A some point the doc had revealed to his daughter where he was staying and learned she was the reason the house was so clean when we first arrived. She apparently went over once or twice a month to do a light cleaning of the house; maintaining the space after her mother's passing and the ownership was transferred to her. She would sometimes even use it for storage.

Overall, while there was still the occasional moment of tension to which Lionel would give them some space for a few days, things seemed to be going well. Tossing the note on the table I grabbed the bag of food and stepped through the sliding door towards the backyard.

Sitting on an old folding chair and laying my light jacket on the backrest, I ate the breakfast in silence, enjoying the chilly breeze of mid-September hitting my heated skin.

The past few weeks have been…nice. Peaceful. After the spontaneous conversation, I hadn't seen a hair or shadow of Vicki once she gave me the Shield Phone. They haven't attempted to contact me on it either, or through some other roundabout way. I told Lionel about the whole interaction (leaving out the psychic ambush) and the old man said he hasn't been approached by anyone.

I was pretty sure Shield had eyes on the house. There's no way they wouldn't after discovering what we did. The fact I couldn't find any overt agents scoping the house or some other form of surveillance gave me the impression that Fury was going for the soft approach rather than the hard one. Perhaps keeping a respectful distance was his way of currying favor before the time came that he eventually wanted something.

Lionel grew a little agitated when I mentioned that but settled on resigned acceptance after enough days with no sign of them. He knew Shield long had a bead on his position back in Los Angeles and knew moving to another country wouldn't do much to sway them, but he had hoped that he would have been free of them a little longer.

In a way, knowing that the clock was still ticking down in some manner, Lionel worked even harder to mend the cracks in his relationships. The only real correct attitude to have I'd say.

As for me, I treated the past weeks like any tourist on a long vacation would. Almost every day I went to different section of the city, walking around and exploring the great metropolitan. I visited all the major tourist and historic attractions like the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey. Got to take a proper walk across Tower Bridge, went inside St. Paul Cathedral along with a couple more museums.

I even went for a bit of shopping, overhauling my wardrobe for the coming change in seasons and even got a couple things to ship overseas to Bayville. Most of them went to the Brotherhood house and a few to the X-Mansion by request. For a southern gal, Rogue was very into British fashion.

Wanda was less interested but she did appreciate the new burgundy coat I got her while Fred enjoyed the snacks and souvenirs, though I knew he liked the former more than the latter.

I sent some things for Lance as well but from how she and the big guy shied away from the subject when I asked over the phone, it was best to assume they weren't well received. Oh well, it was worth trying at least.

I kept my promise to Tabitha and called them days after getting the Shield Phone, alleviating their worries and giving them the basics of why I was MIA for so long.

Once I was done apologizing for not warning them that I'll be unreachable while crossing the ocean (I'll admit I could have sent a message before hoping on that ship), I got around to asking how things have been on the Brotherhood side with the whole reveal of Mutants and all the attention the X-Men were getting.

While most Mutants wouldn't want the kind of attention they were getting, I imagined the more prideful and attention seeking among the Brotherhood would take that as a challenge.

And I was right. While Fred and Wanda were perfectly fine leaving the X-Men to bear the brunt of humanity's budding vocal opinions on Mutantkind, Lance and Pietro saw fit to show the world their abilities and incite a wave of awe, respect and fear. Mostly fear.

Successfully roping Fred into their scheme, they made it a point to flaunt their powers whenever they were in public, often at school and around the X-Men to gain reactions from the "normies".

Causing localized Earthquakes in the school yard while sports practice was going on, picking up cars and leaving them flipped in odd positions, openly speeding around the halls and splashing teachers with buckets of paint before they could even blink. Surprisingly harmless pranks (by their standards), the Brotherhood boy's obvious actions quickly alerted Bayville that there was more than one group of Mutants in town.

This completely pissed off Mystique for their idiocy.

Supposedly, the blue Shapeshifter wanted to use the fact that the X-Men were preoccupied with all the attention and that they were still in the shadows to her advantage. In what way they didn't know. She never told them what her initial idea was but making it no longer an option really got under her skin and they got yelled at for it.

The thought of Mystique's plan to use their anonymity to her advantage being ruined by the guys being…well themselves just gave me the warm fuzzies. Like taking chicken soup for the soul.

Urghh. I remember reading that feel good crap in elementary school. It was so boring. And a waste of time.

'…You really do hate everything good and nice, don't you?'

Other than the guys being regular nuisances and annoying the X-Men since they often had to clean their messes, life in Bayville was peaceful for the Brotherhood. There was a moment where the house was repeatedly harrowed by reporters trying to get pictures of them and catch in the act of using their powers.

Granted, harrow may not be the right word since the boys ate up the attention but a few made the very unfortunate decision to bother Wanda when she was returning from the gym and got right in her face.

A quick flex of her power later, turning their cameras into flying monsters made of film to chase the poor bastards down the street quickly solved that problem. Because she can do that now.

Apparently.

Shaking my head of Scarlet Witches and their truly bullshit powers, I thought over my time in London one more time. I had fun here. Being unofficial roommates with Lionel and enjoying some R&R from the usual pingponging across the states was nice.

As far as places to hang about went, London seemed like a great spot to set up a base when I became tired of the constant moving around and wanted somewhere to lay my head before heading off to my next great adventure. If I could somehow work it, I'd like nice little living spaces on every continent, though I'd have to look into getting more money for real accommodations.

All the same, those were plans for the future.

By the time Lionel returned back from his outing it was to me doing some maintenance on the truck. I turned my head when I heard his footsteps approach up the block and nodded as he came into view at the entrance of the driveway.

"Welcome back." I said as I unscrewed the bolts from one of the wheels. "How was the ballet practice?"

"It was good." The old man said with a small smile. "They let the chaperones watch for the initial day. A lot of the other girls were nervous but Kali took to it like a fish to water. She barely looked over to us and followed the instructor the entire time. She never stopped talking about the next class even as we got ice cream afterwards."

"Sounds like a future ballerina in the making."

"Samantha said the same thing." Lionel chuckled, citing his daughter and walked closer when I finished with the last bolt, the wheel ready to be taken off. "You need help with that?"

"Nah, I got it."

Placing a hand under the truck, I lifted the front of the vehicle with barely any resistance. Careful not to grip too hard where I was holding it aloft and accidently break something; I pulled the wheel free and slotted the new one I had on the side before gently lowering it back onto the ground. Lionel watched the maneuver with a blank look that turned into an amused shake of his head.

"So, how was your morning?"

"Quiet. Hanged out for a bit, got some breakfast, did some research at the nearby library. Not in that exact order. By the way, I'm pretty sure Avalon exists and I may go looking for it soon."

The old man walked around me as I talked and finished screwing in the bolts on the new wheel. Watching him pause at the last sentence, I snorted when he very slowly turned to give me a long look.

"You're joking."

"Nope."

"Because I know you said magic exists and I'm somewhat, kind of willing to accept there are strange forces in the universe that science will never explain…but Avalon?"

"Not 100 percent sure but it's a very likely to exist."

"…Huh."

For a highly skilled Geneticist and man with less than average respect for anything involving faith (not surprising to learn considering what he's been through), Lionel was oddly open minded about the idea of mysticism. The doc wasn't derisive towards things like ghosts, spirits and gods, nor anyone who believed they existed.

He was the type to keep a certain level of healthy skepticism until he was proven wrong with sufficient evidence but had no real strong opinions either way. Lionel watched me move over to the next wheel before turning his head to the bags I had on the ground, with a few more also sticking out of the back of the truck.

"So." He began with a low voice. "You're going to head off?"

"Yep." I said, grunting slightly as a I lifted the truck from the back. "I bought maps of England, Scotland and Wales a few days ago. Figured I'd get a map for Ireland when I eventually take a boat over there and land in Dublin. For my next stop I'm thinking Cambridge. Heard it's a real nice place to visit and they have a lot of medieval architecture."

"Right…"

Lowering it again once I got the wheel on, I looked over to see the doc giving the whole set up a heavy frown. Snorting softly, I stood up and walked over to give a broody Lionel a slap on the shoulder.

"Oi. Don't mope. You keep frowning for everything and even that super soldier diet won't stop the wrinkles they'll give you."

"…I don't frown for everything."

"I like how we both know that's complete bullshit." I laughed at the pointed frown Lionel gave me (kind of proving my point there) and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "You know this isn't goodbye forever, right? You know my number. You can call whenever you want and I plan to stop back in London once I do a full tour of the United Kingdoms. Maybe hang out for bit before heading onward."

"When do you plan to leave?"

"By the end of the week. Maybe wake up early on Sunday and take advantage of a slow morning on the road." I gave him a smile. "Chin up doc. It was…well it was pretty damn hectic all things considered, but I can't say I didn't have a blast. I don't regret a single moment of it."

"Yeah…Yeah, me neither." He said with a resigned but happy smile.

Then he blinked. He blinked again. Seemingly remembering something, the doc suddenly looked up into empty space and made a considering look for a long minute.

"That's just eerie timing…" Lionel mumbled and shook his head in amusement at me quirking a brow. "Before you go. I do have one last request, if you'd do me the favor…"

While I was a little confused on why he said it like that I just shrugged and nodded, choosing to hear him out (internally I already made up my mind to do it). He said the request after another few seconds of quiet deliberation.

I only realized my expression warped after he laughed.

---

I adjusted the somewhat tight blue blazer for what felt like the 20th​ time since I left the house. Waiting at the top of a flight of stairs, the quiet night occasionally broken by the sound of a car passing through the area, I shuffled on my feet after knocking on the door. I tugged on my collar when multiple seconds passed with no answer.

Would you stop fidgeting so much? It's really not that bad.

'Easy for you to say. The last time you wore this monkey suit was at the school dance.' The main reason I still had it was for sentimental reasons, and I refused to wear the puffy white dress shirt and bowtie. The blazer and pants didn't quite fit as well anymore due to the growth spurt from the Rebirth Chamber.

Oh yeah. That was a fun night…You know, until those shadow demon things started popping up and attacking everyone.

'…'

The door swiveled open as I internally deadpanned, the tall bespectacled form of Samantha's husband there on the other side to greet me.

"You must be Todd." The man said with a friendly smile. "You're right on time. Please, come in."

"Thank you for having me, Mr. Ledur." I bowed my head lightly and stepped inside at his invitation.

I entered to a small but homey living room, the soft browns of the long couch and dual love seats around the coffee table matching the textured rug floor. On the far wall was a white stone chimney with an assortment of knickknacks and pictures of the family atop the mantle. A long dining table, fit to host a dozen people was nestled near the front windows and already had multiple plates, cutlery and placemats set on them.

Two open archways were on opposite ends of the room. The one to my left had the sound of water running and the smell of food cooking emanating from it.

"Oh call me Albert. Mr. Ledur makes me feel way older than I actually am." Albert chuckled before noticing the bottle in my hand. "Is that for us?"

"Uh, yeah. Lionel said you guys liked red wine and I passed a store on the way so…Yeah."

"You didn't have to, but it's much appreciated."

"Honey, is that them? Are they back?" A woman's voice called out from the left archway as I handed the wine over to Albert and the man turned his head in that direction.

"Not yet, I'm talking with Todd right now. They're still out." He said back and scratched his head at my curious look. "I tried to make a new apple tart for the occasion but it didn't come out very good, so Lionel took Kali to the shop to buy something else for dessert."

It was to the running water being shut off and Albert's bashful confession that Lionel's daughter walked into the living room. Wearing an apron over a comfortable purple sun dress and her curly brown hair done up in a bun, Samantha's eyes lit up at the sight of me.

"You made it!" She said, sounding genuinely happy, to which I gave her a respectful nod.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Lionel has-"

I was a little caught off guard when she suddenly decided to close the distance and go for a hug. Ignoring my natural instinct to dodge, I stood ramrod straight as Samantha wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me as hard as she could. I awkwardly returned the embrace, gently patting her on the back while giving her husband a confused look.

"I'll go put this in the fridge." Albert said while staring on in amusement. The spontaneous hug when on for another couple seconds after he left for the kitchen before Lionel's daughter leaned back with a vibrant if sheepish smile.

"Sorry for being so forward. I'm just really glad you came. Lionel has told us so much about you!"

"He's told me a lot about you guys too."

"All good I hope?" She asked with her hands on her waist and I smiled.

"Without a doubt." I don't think Lionel had it in him to ever talk badly about them. Not with how happy he was whenever we had breakfast or dinner and all he would talk about was whatever he did with them the previous day. And how he couldn't wait to see what they'd do later.

I was led to the living room and took a seat on the couch at Samantha's insistence to make myself at home.

"Dinner is just about finished. Once they get back from the shop it should be done and we can start eating."

"Sounds good." I said and she gave a cheeky grin.

"Hope you brought your appetite, because I've been up since this morning to make a feast! Dad said you sure can eat and I'm looking to put that to the test."

Oh ho ho~. I like this lady already.

"You may end up regretting that." I said with equal parts challenge and genuine warning.

Samantha was undaunted however, her grinning widening in response before dimming as quickly as it came. Blinking at the sudden shift in emotion, I watched as Samantha clasp her hands and bit her lower lip nervously.

"And since I have you here, I wanted to thank you. He told me what you did for him. How much you helped him and how he wouldn't have made it here without you."

"I can't take all the credit. It took a lot of effort on his part to go through with coming here and mending things. Not to mention, he helped me a lot too."

"Heh. He said you'd say something like that." Samantha giggled lowly. "Either way, thank you for taking care of him. He was never quite the same after my mother's passing and I always worried when he disappeared. I was glad to see him safe and healthy again."

"…And how has that been? If you don't mind me asking." I said hesitantly and the woman took a deep breath.

"It's…It's been strange. A good strange…Sometimes. It's still hard to wrap my head around his past, even when he tries to dumb it down for me. Learning how much he was a part of, the cruel government experiments and the secrets he kept from us, I didn't think the man who raised me was capable of any of it. I almost didn't recognize him…I still don't think I fully do."

I listened as she got her fears off her chest, her expression twisting…before softening into something more fond.

"But he's trying. In his own way. He wants to be a part of everything we do; wants to learn all about us. Our lives, our jobs. Any hobbies and goals. I'd almost call it overbearing if it wasn't so damn endearing." Samantha took another breath and gave a shaky smile. "And I know it seems terrible, especially after everything he's done but…is it so wrong to be happy that I got my father back, even if just a little?"

"…No." I said. "No, I don't think so."

While I was far from an unbiased observer on the matter, I don't think my answer would change even if I was. Whatever moral or ethical considerations the average person may have about Lionel's sins and how much he's truly made up for them, I didn't see how Samantha's feelings on having her father back have anything to do with it. Those sounded like two separate issues to me.

My answer seemed to have eased her conscience a little with how she released the breath she was holding and her smile becoming a little less strained. Giving me a grateful squeeze on the forearm Samantha walked back towards the kitchen, passing her husband who was setting a couple wine glasses on the table.

Like she said, it didn't take long for them to return from the supermarket. After a short introduction of his granddaughter by an inordinately proud Lionel, to which I gave a customary "Yo" and the small girl gave a simple "Hey" back, we sat down to eat after washing our hands.

Samantha (with Lionel's help) quickly filled the table with white and brown rice, shepherd's pie, mashed potatoes, roasted chicken, some kind of beef stew, salad with dressing, etc. Bowl after bowl of food was brought out and I realized she wasn't exaggerating when claiming it would be a feast.

Placing the dessert they got from the shop on the side, we held hands and Albert did grace, taking a moment of silence in thanks for the meal before going on with dinner. Samantha began filling hers and her daughter's plate while Albert uncorked the red wine and poured the glasses.

I took off my aviators and gently placed them on the table.

Lionel already forewarned them about it before tonight (in turn forewarning me about them knowing) so besides a short pause and glances that didn't stretch beyond a few seconds in my direction, the couple continued on without much reaction.

The same could not be said for the small pair of brown eyes locked in my direction. Waiting for the others to serve themselves first, I looked over to see Kali staring at me with an intensity out of place on a 12-year-old girl. Or maybe it was perfectly normal. I had no clue.

We quietly stared at one another, the standoff going for a good couple of seconds.

Kali squinted fiercely. I tilted my head curiously. That just made her squint even harder and then-

"Is that it?" She suddenly asked. The question drew the attention of the other adults at the table and, seeing the young girl staring at me, Samantha pursed her lips.

"Kali." The woman called out with reproach, though her daughter didn't seem to hear her and continued to squint (that was going to hurt the kid's sight).

"Your superpowers aren't just really weird eyes, right? Because that's lame."

"Kali!"

"What?!" The little girl jumped at her mom's elevated voice. "Grandpa said he had cool powers and was super strong! I'm just checking!"

"You still shouldn't ask it that way." Samantha explained with a sigh and sent me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's fine." I waved away the apology, more amused than anything and turned to the girl. "It doesn't bother me but in the future you may want to be more careful when asking other Mutants about their powers. Some aren't as comfortable sharing what they can do."

"But you do have cool powers?" She asked and I smiled.

"Yes."

"Can you show me?"

"Hmmm. Not right now. Your mom went through a lot of trouble to cook all this and it'd be a shame to let it go cold. Maybe after dinner."

My perfectly reasonable answer seemed to offend her pre-teen sensibilities because Kali frowned and turned away with an indignant huff.

"When someone says they have something cool but doesn't want to show it, that means it's not actually cool."

"…" That reasoning genuinely threw me for a loop for a moment. Not because it was good, but because it was so…juvenilely simple. Samantha must have assumed I was offended by my silence because she apologized again while Albert told a grumbling Kali to focus on her dinner. Lionel just watched on with deep amusement.

Oh hell no. She didn't just call the Super Toad lame!

'…You're fucking with me, righ-Oh god, you're not. Dude. She's 12.'

Don't care! Show that brat some cool shit and protect our good name!

'Aaaaannd now you're successfully being baited by that 12-year-old.' Honestly. It's my fault for expecting otherwise. Internally shaking my head, I looked to the center where a couple unlit candles sat and felt a corner of my lip twitch. 'Oh what the hell.' I reached out with my pointer finger.

The single digit erupted in green and orange flames, casting a soft glow against the natural light. Jumping in surprise, everyone watched as I gently tapped the top and the heat from my Marshfire ignited the wick in normal flames. I theatrically raised the flaming finger to my lips and blow out the eldritch flames.

Lionel wasn't all that impressed, having seen it many times before while Albert and Samantha looked on with quiet awe/curiosity. And Kali?

I allowed a tiny sliver of childish victory to enter my heart at her look of complete and utter wonder.

---

The target arrived around the dead of night. Sitting in the passenger's seat and idly twirling a coin in his hand, Brier watched the figures come into view at the end of the neighborhood. The elder of the two was leaning on the other, his somewhat shaky footsteps hinting at a drunken state. They walked down the street and the younger helped the stumbling old man up the stairs.

"Confirmation?" Brier asked as they entered the home and looked over to the man in the driver's seat. Tinkering with a military grade computer on his lap, Brier exhaled softly at the curt nod. "Alright then."

He stepped into the back compartment of the van and saw his men ready to go, last minute preparations being done as he stood in front of the 6-man squad. The rest were in the second van and his man in the front was alerting them.

They already knew the drill so he didn't bother reminding them. As a rule their weapons were usually set to stun rather than lethal and tonight would be no different. If anything they were due for another big payday, especially with how their previous mission went.

Last he heard, Solomon was still in the hospital, being fed essential fluids and vitamins via an IV drip as he stared blankly into space. Incapable of even wiping his own ass after having his mind scrambled into slush.

And he was one of the lucky ones, a survivor amidst the slaughter of most of his squadron.

Shaking his head of distractions and thoughts on irregular targets (to date that bitch was the sole black mark on their perfect record), Brier wordlessly took the outstretched rifle from one of his men as he made for the back door.

They were on the move the moment the doors swung open and his feet hit the asphalt. He and his men shuffled out quickly, the doors of the car down the street also opening and 4 more men convening with them in the center, bringing it to an even 10.

They approached the house in the shadows. Avoiding the streetlamps and sticking low to the fences, Brier had half of his men go up the driveway and into the backyard. Leading the way up the stairs to the door, one of his men got to picking the lock and finished by the time he got confirmation they were ready around the back.

They slowly, methodically entered the house one after the other and the last man gently closed the door behind him. All the lights were out. The hallway and living room on the first floor were quickly checked with them rotating around corners with flashlights on. His men in the backyard were let in through the porch sliding door and, leaving 4 in the first-floor hallway, Brier began the trek upstairs.

They took slow and soft steps there, careful not to put too much pressure on (predictably) old stairs and arrived at the second floor with only the faintest groaning of wood.

There were 3 doors on this floor, one of which was open and showed the inside of an empty bathroom. The rest were closed. Splitting his men between both and taking positions on either sides of the doors, Brier took out a thin, featureless silver disk the size of CD from his pocket. He tapped a sigil in the center and it began to hum in the silent hallway.

He slid it under the door in a single fluid motion. One of his men did the same for the other.

A brilliant flash of white flooded from the gaps.

"GO!"

The doors were busted down seconds after the light faded, Brier's foot knocking the hinges clean from their placements and they stepped into an ordinary guest room.

And large enough to encapsulate near 80 percent of the room (stopping just shy of the door), spreading from the center was a greyish white bubble. Containing the bed, dresser and mirror without showing a hint of the objects being disturbed, the Stasis Gel was see-through and every inch of what it contained was visible to the naked eye.

Clear enough to see that there was no one trapped within.

Brier's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"What the hell…" He murmured lowly and exchanged glances with his men who followed him inside.

"S-Sir…" The men from down the hall called out and he quickly shuffled over to them. He entered through the second door to a much more lived in room, an assortment of clothes lying about, pictures hung up and personal items within the gel.

It also had no one trapped inside.

The window on the far wall was wide open.

"…Fuc-"

There was a crash downstairs.

Multiple rifles turned and the flashlights aimed down the hall, illuminating the dark if bland stairway. There was a lull for a few seconds as no other sound came.

"Calid, come in." Brier commanded into the communicator while holding his position. No response came. "Adith, report. Christian. Give me something."

No one answered. He felt something cold begin in his stomach and spread with insidious speed throughout his body. A brief moment of panic hit him before he realized his men were looking at him. He took a calming breath and made a decision.

The trip down was, somehow, even slower and infinitely more nerve wracking then the trip up.

One of their men was lying in the middle of the path, rag dolled and nearly folded in two. The second and third were in marginally better positions, now lying on the floor with both arms broken. They soon learned the crash was from the last member now halfway in the wall, legs first with his head and upper torso hanging limply.

He didn't even twitch when they shined their lights on him.

Brier's next executive decision to get the fuck out of there. Regroup and plan outside. Away from dark and tight corners. He had his men cover him as he quickly moved past the archway and headed for the door, reaching it in seconds and grabbing the doorknob.

It didn't budge. He pulled again. It still didn't cooperate and Brier quickly discovered that the near entirety of the door was coated in some sort of…hardened paste? Absentmindedly (maybe stupidly) he poked the substance with the barrel of his gun.

The sound of metal scrapping on concrete echoed loudly in his ear.

"Through the yard." He commanded, turning to his men with a stern expression and a split decision made with confidence he didn't feel. "Stick close together. Watch all sides and call out anything. Shoot to kill is now authorized."

Not much else was left to be said as Brier and his men pushed through the narrower archway into the living room. Rifles swept in all directions and the light filled practically every corner, banishing the shadows where they could.

What happened next was…well, calling it a blur would be incorrect.

It was more like a split-second flash frame. One second they were halfway through the small but what felt like endless living room, back-to-back with nary a gap between them. More than one gun was aimed at the open sliding door that they almost reached.

The squad leader didn't understand what compelled him to turn around and check behind him but did it anyway.

Doing so allowed Brier to catch the figure that dropped from the ceiling and landed directly in the middle of their formation. His brain registered and processed that fact in a half second.

The next half was spent recognizing and coming terms with the fact that his body was going into shock.

Something hit him. Multiple times and with speed that felt unreal.

What that something was, Brier couldn't tell you. By the time his center mass, a part of his lower spine and right leg were reporting critical failure, all he could register was the pain. A blinding hot pain that made his vision go white and made him want to hurl but he no longer had the option to do so. Not even as a natural, bodily reaction. One moment he was standing.

The next he was on the ground, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Once the initial shock passed, and the pain stilled in certain sections of his body (and settled into deeply wrong staticky numbness), Brier realized he couldn't move. Everything below his spine just…refused to listen.

No one else was left on their feet, at least as far as he could tell.

"…Damn. I didn't even get to leave the house…Shit."

Everyone, save for one.

Brier just barely caught the shadowed figure casually standing among the bodies of his men. His position on the floor didn't allow him a direct view and any attempt to move his head ended in futility. He moved his left arm; the only limb that had some semblance of motor function left and shakily went for the communicator on his hip.

A foot came down on it. Hard. He heard every bone in his hand bend and break before even feeling it. Involuntarily, Brier went to yell.

A hand clamping down on his mouth prevented the yell from traveling far. Being held in grip that felt closer to an appendage made of iron than actual flesh, it was then he realized the figure was crouching next to him.

When did-

Brier's next screams were also muffled as he was hauled upward, sending innumerable jolts of agony down his body and he was held up in the air, his feet dangling like dead limbs.

Between the pain, the lack of light in the house and his rapidly darkening vision, he couldn't register any discernable features. It was just a pitch-black silhouette. Brier could see nothing.

Nothing, expect for the two emerald, green orbs glowing in the darkness.

"Now than…" The thing began, its head tilting slightly to the side.

The inhuman eyes bore directly into his soul.

"Who the fuck are you assholes?"

---

A/N: "Huh. It's been a few weeks and no word from him. Maybe I was stretching it a bit…"

"Ma'am, he just called. He got into some trouble."

"…Oh. Well, I guess it's not too far-fetched considering how long it took. Where is he now? Cambridge? Birmingham? You know what, I'll just bring the jet around-"

"Oh no. He's still in London."

"Still? Wow. Did he go snooping in some Hydra secret lair or stumble across a Weapon Plus cell?"

"No."

"Then where-"

"At the Nagel house. He didn't even leave the driveway, ma'am."

"…"

SITodd is not going to live this down any time soon.

I hope you enjoyed!

 

[Carlos99]

Thanks for the chapter!

 

[transhumansage]

"Who the fuck are you assholes?"

Click to shrink...

is he able to produce any kind of chemical that can increase suggestibility and help with interrogation and intelligence gathering?