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To say the X-Men were confused was a huge understatement.
They’d gone in to one of Stryker’s facilities to liberate a handful of mutants that had been captured to be used as experiments, and with Raven’s diligent blueprints of the place plus Charles and Jean’s respective telepathic abilities, they’d been pretty confident going in.
Maybe too confident.
Scott really thought they’d have this one in the bag. Sure, it was their first mission, but they’d gone through scenarios just like this in the Danger Room just about a hundred times, and how different could it be, really? Besides, even without the professor or Jean, they had Ororo, who was basically a goddess. They had Kurt and his teleportation, though he did have a bit of trouble moving all of them at once. And they had Jubilee, who’s sparky-firework powers were good for both overriding mechanically-locked, steel-enforced doors, and for shocking the hell out of guards.
Plus Scott’s laser eyes. So…
But yeah, maybe they got in over their heads. One minute, they’d busted their way in to the facility, Raven and Charles waiting outside as backup (and to catch anyone escaping), and the next they were up to their necks in armed guards pointing guns at them. And suddenly, Scott just froze. All of his training went out the window, and he realized what he was actually doing. He was breaking into a government facility, for fuck’s sake!
God, what was he doing there? He wasn’t Alex! He wasn’t a hero! He shot lasers out of his eyes, and he couldn’t even control that. There was nothing heroic about him.
As panic overrode his senses, Jean flung her arms out to maybe rip the guns away from the guards, Ororo had just started to hover in the air, sparks were jumping on Jubilee’s fingers, and Kurt had his teeth bared, and maybe Scott should be doing something because he was their leader, and—
—and he was standing outside the facility, facing down Raven, the Professor, and—
Magneto???
Scott gasped as awareness hit him, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, and he bent at the waist, taking deep breaths through his nose. It would be so embarrassing to get sick in front of the most (in)famous mutant advocate (terrorist) in the world. Scott would never recover, and Alex would never let him live it down.
“What happened?” Jean choked out from beside him, sounding just as nauseous, and after another moment of steeling breaths to settle his stomach, Scott finally found it in himself to straighten up and take a look around. The rest of his team were in similar positions, standing in the grass in front of the facility like a bunch of tools, looking lost and vaguely green. Ororo was sat on the ground like she’d been snatched out of the air and put on the lawn, eyes wide and stupefied. Kurt was the only one who looked unaffected—had he teleported them? Was that what happened?
No, it wasn’t possible that he’d grabbed onto them all so fast, especially not with Ororo up in the air. Besides, they’d teleported with him before, and it had never been like that…
“Scott, look—“ Jean tugged on his jacket sleeve, sounding faint, and he followed her shaky finger towards the patch of grass a few feet away, occupied by—
All the mutants they were meant to rescue, looking equally ill, not to mention whatever injuries they’d already had. A ragtag bunch of kids in worn and bloody clothes, clinging to each other with their matted hair and bruised skin, squinting their eyes in the bright sunlight. What the actual hell.
“Ah,” Charles said, sounding vaguely amused. “That was fast.” He did not sound nearly freaked out enough for Scott’s standards, by the way.
“Oh please, Charles,” Magneto rolled his eyes, but he also sounded sort of amused, and…proud? Had he done something somehow? (Oh brother; could he teleport them if they had metal on or something? The last thing they needed was Magneto getting even more powerful). “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you.”
“What are you doing here?” Ororo asked him, and Scott guessed she could talk to him that way because they’d been Horsemen together, but still. Didn’t seem advisable to demand answers from that lunatic (Jean’s lips quirked into an almost-smile when he thought that, and he had a feeling she’d been in his head again).
“Sticking his nose in our business, that’s what,” Raven grumbled, narrowing her yellow eyes.
“You asked for my assistance,” he said stiffly.
“Your assistance, Erik, not for your guy to take over the whole mission. This was supposed to be a training exercise!” His guy? Another teleporter, maybe? …Yeah, that made sense…kinda…
Magneto—Erik—frowned at that, and glanced around. “Speaking of, shouldn’t he be back by now?”
Charles looked unperturbed, even though his wheelchair was positioned between his two bickering friends, and Erik’s mood had shifted downwards, which was never a good thing, Scott had learned in Cairo last year. “He’s fine, Erik. He just got caught up with Stryker. He’ll be out in a moment.” He touched his fingers to his temple, and knowing how hard it was for Charles to read Kurt’s mind with his constant teleporting, Scott wondered if he was reading Stryker’s mind instead.
Erik’s eyes widened. “Caught up with—“
Scott blinked, and then there was a boy next to Erik. Stryker was tied up at his feet like a prize animal, duct tape over his mouth and wrapped around his ankles, eyes downright murderous as he whipped his head around wildly. His captor was no older than Scott, with strange silvery-white hair, dark brown eyes covered in a pair of black goggles, and— under an offensively colored silver jacket—a cassette player at his hip.
He was grinning like a madman, and his hair was windswept like he’d just run a marathon. “Sorry it took me so long. This guy doesn’t know when to quit.” He kicked Stryker in the side with his silver Chuck Taylor, still grinning, and Scott couldn’t help but stare, mouth hanging open.
“That was long?” Raven snorted.
“Peter,” Erik said, looking relieved for some reason, so Scott guessed this must have been one of his lackeys. He clapped the boy on the shoulder, giving him a once-over like he was checking for injuries; his eyes lingered on a cut on Peter’s forehead that was already seemingly healing over, and his eyes narrowed in displeasure. “I was getting worried.” Then he glanced down at Stryker, lip curling in disgust. “Good work.”
“Aw, you were worried?” He snickered. “I’m touched, old man.” Old man? Scott tensed, preparing for the mass-murdering to begin, and Jean squeezed his hand, though whether she was offering comfort, or just wanted to die holding onto him, he couldn’t tell.
Erik heaved a sigh like an exhausted parent, and Charles hid a smile behind his hand.
“Uh…” Jubilee was the one to finally speak. “Not to be rude or anything, but what just happened?”
The boy, Peter, finally seemed to notice them. “Oh, don’t worry, the nausea goes away after a minute. Happens to everyone.” This guy talked, like, really freaking fast, and come to think of it, he also couldn’t stand still at all. Now that Scott was paying closer attention, he was always shifting his weight, tapping his fingers on his hips, bouncing his leg, nodding his head along to whatever was playing in his headphones. Just watching him made Scott’s brain hurt.
Jean made a noise of discomfort beside him that sounded like agreement. “Why can’t I read your mind?” She muttered, holding her head. “It’s like—“
“Mm,” Charles agreed. “I wouldn’t attempt to do so again, Jean. Peter’s thoughts move at incredible speed. It’s enough to give anyone a headache.”
Peter grinned sheepishly. “Sorry bout that. But hey, try living with it.”
Maybe he saw the looks on their faces, or maybe he just read the confusion in their minds, but either way Charles cleared his throat. “Everyone, this is Peter Maximoff. He is…just about the fastest person on the planet.”
Scott choked. “Wait, so you—“ he cut himself off because frankly, he had no idea what he was even going to say, so he just settled for gesturing around at himself, his team, and the rescued prisoners. “All this?”
Peter bit into a Twinkie, and—where the fuck did he get a Twinkie?!—shrugged. “Yup. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“That’s insane,” Jean sort of laughed, and Charles hummed in agreement.
“Imagine what he could do if I was allowed to train him,” he started suggestively, though his tone implied he’d tried this before and didn’t expect any resounding enthusiasm for his offer.
Erik’s hand on Peter’s shoulder tightened. “You aren’t taking my son for your little team, Charles.”
Son?! (It took Scott a minute to realize the thought was so loud because it was both his and Jean’s, her voice shouting in his head like it was more effective than shouting in her own).
“So possessive,” Raven scoffed, as if she hadn’t almost threatened Scott with dismemberment if he let anything happen to Kurt on this mission earlier today, but whatever. Scott valued not being choked out by a pair of blue feet far too much to bring that up himself.
“I do believe it’s Peter’s decision, Erik,” Charles said lightly, and he shifted his all-knowing gaze back to the silver-haired mutant, who was now chugging a can of Tab (seriously, where was he getting this shit?!).
“Nah, man,” Peter said, looking unfazed. “I’ll pass on nerdy mutant school,” and he threw a quick wink Scott’s way, as if to let them all know he was messing around (as if that wasn’t clear by the perpetual class clown tone of voice he had), and Scott swore Jubilee started blushing. “Besides, someone has to stick around the Brotherhood to make sure no one gets any big ideas about taking over the world,” he side-eyed Magneto (his dad, for fuck’s sake!), who rolled his eyes.
“That was one time,” he muttered, like that made it better, because hello?! Apocalypse, anybody? Just because Scott could forgive Ororo did not mean he could forgive President-killing, warmongering mutant terrorists, okay?
“One time too many, old friend,” Charles put in, looking no less amused than before. “I truly shudder to think of what state the world would be in if it weren’t for the valiant efforts of your son.” He winked at the boy in question, who scoffed, but Scott didn’t miss the red creeping up his neck. “Now then, I do believe thanks are in order for your assistance on the mission; would you care to accompany us back to the mansion?”
Peter perked up quickly. “You got food there?”
Erik scoffed. “It’s a school, Peter. Of course they have food.”
“I’m starving, man. I’m like, two seconds away from putting a McDonald’s out of inventory for the rest of the month.”
“I’m sure we can handle a meal for you, Peter,” Charles said wryly.
“Yeah, Charles is fucking rich, so I wouldn’t worry too much about eating all his food,” Raven added.
Peter turned his dark, almost pleading eyes on Erik, who heaved another sigh, but seemed to almost soften imperceptibly. (And who would have thought that all it would take to wear the sharp edges off of a lunatic like Magneto was to hand him a teenaged son with hyperactive problems?). “Can we?” He didn’t even wait for his dad to answer. “Aw come on, don’t say no. You know you want to go, so can we go? It’ll be fun, I’ll behave, I promise, alright? Can we can we can we—“
“Fine,” Erik scoffed, as if he wouldn’t have said yes the first time Peter asked—and Scott was getting the feeling he very much would have. He sent a warning glance at Charles. “No recruitment pitches, Charles, I mean it. And for the love of God, keep him away from the coffee.”
Peter smirked. “You can’t stop me. Nobody can.” He cracked his knuckles, but before he could even make a single step towards the jet (Hank was waiting in the pilot’s seat, probably ogling Raven from behind or something), Erik twitched his fingers, and caught Peter’s silver belt. He tossed his son lightly onto his back with barely a flick of his wrist, and Peter grunted dramatically.
“Ow.”
“That didn’t hurt.”
“Shut up, it totally did,” he argued, while Erik gave him a hand up.
“You’re both children,” Raven snickered, and as Charles began to move towards the jet, Scott guessed that was their cue to follow. Peter grabbed Erik by the back of the neck and disappeared in a flash, probably planning on scaring the hell out of Hank, and Charles only shook his head and turned his attention to Jean as Raven fell back to talk to Kurt, and Ororo and Jubilee were talking to the poor rescued kids he’d almost completely forgotten about. That left Scott to his thoughts about…whatever the hell had just happened…
Whatever. He was still confused, but…mission accomplished, he guessed?
He couldn’t wait to tell Alex about this.