Live Throws a Curveball (X-Men)

[caitis_musings]

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”
~George Bernard Shaw

Alone in the X-Men’s base camp, Madelyne Pryor sipped on her coffee as she put her feet up on the desktop. Once upon a time, she’d have been lecturing herself for drinking coffee at this time of night. Pilots needed to be well-rested and sharp when they went to work. But her flying days were behind her now . . . at least as a job. She still wanted to try to talk Ororo into getting the team a plane.

They couldn’t always depend on Gateway to be willing to teleport them.

And if only he could teleport her to her son.

“No, no I can’t go there right now.”

Shaking her head, Madelyne forced thoughts of her son to the back of her mind. If she let herself go there, she would fall into another depression. It took so long for her to drag herself out of the last one, scaring the hell out of herself and her friends.

Instead, she reached out to turn on the news. “Might as well see what’s happening in the world today.”

As if the universe wanted to both cooperate and throw a wrench into her plans, an image comes up of two people in costumes, stripes crossing to form giant X’s over their chests. That would have been enough to distract her from dark thoughts, but the people in question put a lit match to the fuse of her temper.

“What the hell?”

Scott – she would know him anywhere – stood next to another woman, another redhead . . . masked, so Madelyne couldn’t see her face. Despite that, she could see the lines of the bone structure and the curves of her figure. “It’s . . . me, but . . . not?”

And the fuse burned.

“No! No, not me.”

Jean Grey . . . the woman Scott loved before he met Madelyne . . . the woman who died on the moon . . .

“No wonder he left me,” Madelyne fumed. “And our baby.”

Her fury exploded and she rose to her feet, ready to throw a fist into the screen in front of her as if the force could reach through it. At the last moment, she managed to stop, her entire body shaking from the force of her anger.

“Damn it! No!” She kicked the side of the desk and strode across the room as she fought to bring herself under control. “Alex, Ororo, Logan . . . all of them – they need to know about this.” She didn’t have the luxury of having a temper tantrum right now. The team – her family came first. No way in hell would she leave them to find this out the way she had . . . though she reserved the right to punch Scott Summers the moment she saw him next.

Drawing on every bit of her pilot’s training to focus on priorities, Madelyne retook her seat and began typing. She needed to find out as much as she could about Scott, Jean, and whatever they were doing in New York. The X-Men would need to be told, and plans would have to be made. She could have a temper tantrum later.

After she raided Logan’s secret stash of whiskey.

“Still up?”

At the question, Madelyne slanted a look towards Logan as he stalked into the kitchen. “Welcome home, and you’re going to be pissed at me,” she announced instead of answering him. When he cocked an eyebrow at her, she held up the tumbler of whiskey. “Thanks for the drink.”

He blinked, turning to face her, and leaning against the countertop across from her. “All right, darlin’,” he shrugged and folded his arms over his chest. “Any particular reason you’re stealing my alcohol?”

“It was hit the computer,” she replied, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug of her own. “Or shoot the computer.” Again, she lifted the glass but this time in a sarcastic toast. “My third choice was getting a drink. I figured you’d grumble about the liquor, but it’d be better than the disappointed look I’d get from Ororo if I shot the computer.”

Alex walked in, sending her a bemused look. “You shot the computer?”

“No,” she denied. “I wanted to shoot the computer. Two very different things.”

“Why did you want to shoot it?” Ororo asked as she slipped around Alex.

“Anybody else coming in?” Madelyne chuckled. “Maybe we could get all of the questions out first and then I’ll try to answer them all at one time.” She took a sip of her whiskey. “It’d be easier than answering each one individually and having to explain the previous answers to the newcomers.”

She shook her head. “Piotr’s going out to sketch while Alison and Longshot decided to get some rest.”

“And Betsy?”

“Meditating,” Logan grunted, his eyes still fixed on her. “Rogue’s gone flying.”

“Okay, then.” Madelyne took a deep breath and blew it out, long and slow. “You better come with me. There’s something you need to see.” She began to push herself off the countertop but then paused. “Actually, you might want to get drinks of your own. If I can’t shoot the computer, neither can any of you.” A small smirk flickered over Logan’s face, and she pointed at him. “You can’t hit it either.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

They trailed her into the main communications room. Madelyne narrowed her eyes at the screen before walking over to drop into the seat. Putting her glass down, she began typing and tried to let the sound of the clacking keys help her relax.

Not that it seemed to be working.

“What’s going on, Maddy?” Alex leaned on the back of the chair.

She sidestepped the question. “You’re not going to like it.”

“We’re getting that, Red,” Logan snorted. Turning her head, she spotted him standing nearby, his eyes flickering between her and the screen. “Any hints?”

“Let’s just say I got an answer I’ve been wanting for a while,” she answered, the words bitten off as her anger tried to flare anew. “I didn’t react well and based on what I found with a quick search; I don’t think you will either.”

Ororo raised a hand to prevent any more questions. “Let her show us.”

A few more clicks, and the news articles came up – interviews, announcements, and headlines filling the screen with everything she’d put together about Scott and his new team, the X-Force. She’d already seen everything, so she focused her attention on her brother-in-law and friends. Shock, anger, grief, and disbelief chased across each face. For a moment, she felt a hint of that grateful awe that she’d felt ever since they’d rescued her in San Francisco.

Despite Scott’s abandonment, she still had a place.

Beyond that, however, she felt sorrow and sympathy for the turmoil she knew they now felt. It had almost driven her to punch the screen earlier, and goodness only knew what kind of damage that might have caused – to the computer and to her.

“They hunted mutants?” Alex scowled.

“Kind of,” Madelyne shook her head. “Given what happened before the ticker-tape parade, I’d guess they faked that part.”

“Agreed,” Ororo nodded. One corner of her mouth twitched as if to smile. “Did you see the size of their Complex? They probably took the young mutants there, training them to control their abilities.” She tapped her fingers against her thigh. “Going back to what they were taught.”

“How long?”

Madelyne looked at Logan. “Sorry?”

He gave her a look, one that blended sympathy and understanding. And honestly? If it had been anyone other than Logan, she might have pitched a fit. Then again . . . Logan never sugarcoated anything for her, giving it to her straight. She appreciated that.

“How long have they been working as a team?” he clarified.

Her hands clenched into fists, and she had to take a few deep breaths before she could convince herself to let them relax. “If what I’ve found is right, then I’d say not long after he . . . left Alaska.” She heard both Ororo and Alex murmuring and muttering, but Logan’s reaction kept her attention.

“Tell you what, sweetheart,” he offered. “When we get the chance, we’ll track them down. You can hit him and then I’ll kick his ass.”

For the first time in what felt like hours, Madelyne laughed. “I might take you up on that,” she chuckled. Leaning back in her chair, she put her hands over her face and brushed them down her cheeks before clasping them under her chin. “Is it wrong to be angry at all of them?” she asked, then made a face. “I know it’s not fair to be mad at her. Hell, she was dead . . . or something.”

“Or something?” Ororo repeated.

“Well . . .” Her voice trailing off, Madelyne waved at the screen. “Clearly, she’s not dead right now . . . but then again, we were dead in Dallas and then suddenly we weren’t. So . . . she was dead, or lost, or gone, or something.” Throwing up her hands, she shook her head. “Whatever. Either way - any way – it’s not really fair to be pissed at her. But I want to be. I want to be upset with her. I want to slap the other three.” She gave a soft huff. “I want Logan to kick Scott’s ass.”

“I want Logan to kick Scott’s ass,” Alex muttered.

Logan chuckled. “I volunteer.”

“It’s not . . . wrong for you to be upset with them,” Ororo smiled, one hand reaching out to smack Logan’s shoulder. “Particularly Scott.” She shook her head. “I can understand why he went to find the truth, but I don’t understand why he didn’t come back and offer you some kind of explanation. It was the least he owed you . . . and your son.”

Madelyne’s hands trembled. She’d been doing her best not to let her son’s unknown fate overwhelm her with this new revelation. “Maybe . . . maybe they’ve found him?” That gave all of them pause – she could see it in their eyes. A little flicker of hope began to swirl in her heart. “Do you think?”

“I think we’ll have to change our plans to stay ‘dead’,” Ororo announced without hesitation. “Nothing else is more important than finding young Nathan.”

Blinking back tears, she nodded at their leader. “Thank you,” she sniffled. “Maybe we can still stay under the radar so everyone can stay safe.” She lifted a hand to brush away the one tear that escaped. “I don’t want to put any of you in danger, but . . . I need to find my son, to know he’s safe.”

“Of course, you do.”

“And I even promise to do my best not to slap your friend.”

“Don’t slap Jean,” Alex sighed, one hand coming to rest on Madelyne’s shoulder. “But Logan should definitely kick Scott’s ass.”

When Logan grinned, Madelyne nodded at him. “But only after I get the first hit.”

“You bet.”