1963-07-24 - Blood and Genetics, Part 3
Summary: The X-men respond to a distress call from a local mental facility.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
crystal bobby alex darwin rogue logan erik jean xavier 


Blood and Genetics, Part 3

Little Billy was born different but the family didn't realize it until age 2. When most toddlers begin to talk, the young child never learned. His oversensitivity to noise, light, and other triggers put immense strain upon his mother and father. When dad left, mom couldn't handle little Billy on her own and, despite the pain, the little blonde boy went to live in a hospital the doctors swore would be able to help him live comfortably.

His mother made sure he had his blue blanket, which he kept for security, and she hasn't seen him since.

*

Just after nightfall, members of the X-men get a distress call from Xavier beckoning them down into the basement hangar at the Blackbird. As they arrive, he's already prepped the plane and is walking down the ramp to meet them. He looks clearly worried.

*

Jean may not have been the first to arrive, but she was there. Though, the choice of outfit was suspect. Not really, it wasn't. But if they were going out, she donned the green sundress, yellow belt and an actual pair of tennis shoes that she managed to snag from Macy's during the dust up there. There was a slight chance she already knows what was going on, but either way, she's not saying a thing.

*

This sort of distress call means Alex is out of his clothes and into his suit pronto, and as he pads into the room with a sense of urgency, he comes to a halt before the plane. He winces slightly: he hates planes. Losing his family— almost— to airplane accidents does not engender one towards an appreciation of flying in giant metal contraptions. "What's the crisis, Professor?"

*

When Erik arrives in the hangar, he's wearing a modified version of his original X-Men uniform. Still yellow and dark blue, this one is less bulky, with fewer pouches and a more slender fit. As he walks in, a sphere of metal floats above his left shoulder, constructed of a metal unlike anything ever seen before. It almost looks as if it's somehow crossed between copper and titanium, and when someone passes close to it, one might notice an odd, high pitched buzzing sound.

He moves to join the others without a sound, turning keen eyes to see who else may be joining.

*

Logan flexes his hands in the gloves. This is the first time he's worn this costume and he isn't particularly convinced, "Just whose idea was it that we all oughtta be wearin' matchin' monkey suits? We plannin' to be in a parade after?"

He lights his stogie and blows smoke before he speaks, "Yeah, what's the ruckus, Chuck?"

*

Crystal has her own uniform, though the formfitting black and yellow doesn't look terribly different from what the X-Men wear. Smoother, perhaps, but not much different. It's certainly a change from her usual modest skirts and blouses, though. "What's happening?" she asks as she joins the others, pulling on a pair of black gloves.

*

Armando is quiet as he approaches the Blackbird- dressed in whatever uniform has been provided for the X-Men. He's somewhat new to the team, only recently having agreed to join this more secret venture. Black and Yellow went well with grey skin, it seems. He looks over towards the others, keeping quiet for the time being- looking up to Charles now with curiosity.

*

Bobby walks down into the hangar zipping up the front of his jacket. "Did you have to use yellow? I hate yellow." he complains. "It make me look like I have umm, jaun-something." Though with his tan there's no sign of it. "So what's the situation?"

*

Rally the troops, or cry havoc. One of those hounds emerges from the gloom at a rather timely pace, her soles barely uttering a squeak on the ground. Rogue comes into the hangar dressed to kill (or go), which for her means gloved, booted, and a white tulip tucked into her braided foxfire hair. Slim fingers push back her hood, giving some room. Slung over her shoulder is an addition, a hooded forest green cloak that Jean at least ought to recognize, its interior lined in a mottled, dark fabric suitable for urban camouflage as necessary. It also makes a nice, warm addition if the hot summer night proves chilly. "You called?" she asks, her voice precise and clear. She gives the Blackbird a look, then the skimming gaze follows over to Bobby. "Jaundiced? I know. Try it with this hair." She tugs on her braid.

*

"For anyone who needs a spare uniform they are in the cargo hold," Xavier says quietly as he walks up the ramp and heads to the controls. Sounds like this is something that needs to happen right now. "And for those who have complaints, I'll keep it under advisement. We considered black leather, but it gave the wrong image," Xavier adds. He sighs, not really wanting to discuss the matter.

"I used to have an old friend who managed the sanitarium on the edge of the county. We had a falling out. In any event he called me not 4 minutes ago to tell me there were intruders at his facility and that he needed my help. I asked for more information, but the line was cut, and when I tried to search for him, I could not find him." Xavier presses a few buttons upon the controls and the far door on the hangar opens. The Blackbird moves extremely fast before it's up in the air on this very, very short trip.

*

Jean was already heading aboard the Blackbird, her fingers lifting to draw her hair into a bun as she reaches behind herself to unzip her dress with a tug and pull at the lip…

Of course she was hidden in the back, safe away from prying eyes, only to emerge moments later with her suit fitted up and many zippers afixed and fitted to the frame. Though whats different is the pearl necklace that was given to her by the Submariner. A thing of focus that she clasps with her gloved black hand, picking out her seat nearest to the window and strapping herself in for safety. Short or not, all PSA's say to buckle up.

*

"Is he a mutant? Is this place mutant-related? Or is there suspected mutant-activity?" Those are Alex's top questions as he goes to settle into his seat towards the front, and buckle in.

*

Logan makes his own way onto the plane, grabbing a seat and kicking back. Not much to say until they got down to business. Chuck's play, let him call the shots. Time to see what some of these kids were made of.

*

Blue eyes flash from person to person, though they linger for a moment upon Logan (the fellow he knows the least), and finally, Crystal. He moves over to her side and follows her on board the airplane, glancing her way as they go. "It would seem that speed is paramount," he notes, before choosing a seat and strapping in.

The odd little metal ball comes to a hovering rest just above his lap. He looks down to it, arching an eyebrow in consideration.

*

Crystal settles into a seat, quirking a brow at Magneto's metallic companion. "Have you been fiddling with that?" she asks, holding a hand out in its direction. "It feels different from last time." Idle curiosity aside, she looks more seriously to the others on the ship, marking names and faces.

*

Armando takes a seat, buckling up. He looks towards Alex, then back towards Charles- all good questions. Still, this whole X-Men thing is rather new to Armando. He takes a slow breath as they speed onward- white, featureless eyes soaking in all the details of the machine. Listening and soaking in the information on the mission itself. "Sounds like a serious issue if a friend who's had a fallen out is calling you for help." he notes. Magneto's metal ball, too, catches Armando's attention. Again, he keeps quiet- just watching for now. Learning.

*

Black leather. That would be a nice look, especially paired with a white t-shirt, maybe with an X on it. Sort of James Dean meets… umm. Them. Needs shades. Anyway, Bobby takes a seat and buckles in, just listening to what's said for now.

*

Bounding up the walkway, Rogue sweeps the cloak open and holds it up for the benefit of shielding Jean when she deigns to change. She stretches her arms wide to afford that some privacy for the other redhead. Gingers unite, and all that. Wherever the latter decides to sit, she opts to strap herself in nearby, possibly adjacent. "This ought to be a whole lot smoother than Sam's method. Good solid technology." A solid hit of the bohemian's heel sends a light movement rippling through the nearby metal plates. "I'm glad you came, Jean. Whatever this is, having someone like you at my elbow gives me hope." Clips and metal bits are lashed together with a touch of reluctance, tugged to assure a secure grip. "Tallyho, and all that jazz."

*

"No they are not. At least not most of them. They are a group of patients who suffer from assorted mental disabilities. In my original scan, however, I did notice the presence of a mutant. I was not able to lock down on the person, however, because much of the sanitarium is guarded with assorted metals and is underground. At least that is my assumption," replies Xavier.

"That would be correct, Erik." Just as he says this, the Blackbird flings itself in a sharp turn and they've already arrived. Xavier pulls the machine into its slow landing and the drawbridge lowers to the ground. Charles unbuckles and begins heading towards the back. "They are afraid. Very afraid. We must hurry." Xavier stops at the bottom of the ramp and closes his eyes trying to focus but with so many minds and so much confusion it is nearly impossible.

In front of them are a pair of normal hospital style doors that enter a single floored clinic of some sort. Judging by the way it juts out to either side, the facility is rather large. Xavier is leaning against the ramp, trying to get his bearings and block the terror of the voices in his head out.

*

Jean watches everyone after her dress and buckle into the seat. Everyone seems at ease moving into the heat of a possible battle, yet she was the only one who gripped her hands together to nearly twist her gloves off of her fingers. Rogue's words and assistance offers a smile. "I hope so.." And it proved true, they were already at the facility..

"The same goes for me, Scarlett." She says quietly. "It always helps a girls confidence when she knows another has her back." Mental fist-bumps. She unbuckles and draws away from the seat, her hands shaking as she presses it against the wall, the other pressing against her eyes as her face burns a tight red, her feet shuffling foward as she draws a hand out to rest upon the Professor's shoulder. There was faith there, in that grasp, one that gives him a little mental nudge as she takes in a breath.

"We can't stand here." Which means, get a move on, before her nerves get the better of her.

*

Alex is just gonna be belted in and quiet. They're going to fly. And he absolutely hates flying. In airplanes, at least.

*

Looking back up, Magneto gestures with a free hand, and the sphere floats over into Crystal's area. Should she take it, it will feel lighter than before. "I added a splash of tungsten," he explains, and follows the explanation with a quick, lopsided grin.

Once the Blackbird had landed, Magneto is among the first out. The sphere continues its floating passage at his shoulder. While Charles does his mental scan, Erik begins searching the area with his mental aptitude with a hand raised toward the hospital; he's trying to get a handle on how much metal is in this place. A normal amount, or an abnormal amount? For abnormal, is it stationary, or is it moving… suggesting the use of firearms? It's a stretch, but by casting the slightest of magnetic distortions over the facility, he hopes he can pick up a general scan by what kind of interference he reads. A sort of magnetic sonar.

If it works.

*

NOw that they are no longer flying, Alex is, of course, up and heading towards the door right in the front, eager partly to get out of this flying deathtrap— the telepaths can feel the apprehension airplanes give him, though its nothing serious enough to cause him any trouble. But real ground is good. Plus, that's what Alex does. Goes right in to look around. "Lead the way, Prof."

*

Logan makes his way out and down, rolling his neck. He pops a few adamantium-bonded vertebrae, resulting in a metallic crackling sound that's like low-caliber gunfire. He flares his nostrils, inhaling deeply to try and get the smell of the place, tilting his head to try and listen inside. If there's any screaming, that's usually a good clue. Wolverine, the World's Hairiest Detective.

*

"Ah, that's what it is," Crystal smiles faintly back at Erik, passing the ball back to him. As the plane lands, she unbuckles and follows the others out, though she pauses next to Charles and Jean. "If there's anything the two of you need that might help limit the…feedback, you have only to ask," she offers in a low tone. With the offer made, she starts to step inside, no show of fear from the young woman.

*

Armando unbuckles and stands from the seat on the Blackbird, heading down the ramp. There's a nervousness, certainly- but hesitation and fear in a situation like this may well be dangerous- as always, he begins to evolve to survive the situation. "What's the plan?" he asks back, as he looks around- standing not far from Magneto. "If we need to be quick, its best to know what we're doing."

*

Bobby walks down the ramp, glancing around at the other. "Not at all inconspicuous, are we?" he quips. "We should be a motorcycle gang like those Hells Angels. We could be the X-terminators or something." Lifting his arms, he makes a holding a handlebars gesture and 'vrooms'.

*

A few precious minutes allow Scarlett — Rogue, by another name — to compose her thoughts as much as she can. By the time the Blackbird disgorges its contents upon the sanatarium, she brushes the silky petals of the white tulip adorning her braid against her lips in wordless prayer. Slim fingers release the plait and draws her hood up, her verdant cloak smothering some of the stranger elements of their collective flight suits. Oddities deserve notice: Magneto's sphere, Alex's unease, Logan's shrapnel song. She emerges to regard the varied points of entrance and exit, any hints of motion that might indicate hidden patients or security measures taken by the intruders. Her sweeps are far from casual. The balls of Rogue's feet barely touch the ground, a measure to smother the sounds of where she goes. She glides in a staggered line with the others, almost maddeningly mundane. Decidedly so. "Bait?" she murmurs lightly.

*

Magneto will find that much of the facility is covered in metal. It seems that this place houses all sorts of thing they don't want made public. Perhaps that is why Xavier got the call rather than the police.

"Jean's right. We need to get in now," Xavier responds. Inside his mind a giant headache grows at the cacophony of fear building between his ears. So many voices who don't know how to articulate what they are feeling in any way is not unlike a guitar building feedback when too close to an amplifier.

Rogue can feel that it's about to happen before it does, with the feeling of commotion out in front. Suddenly the doors burst open and a man, naked as a newborn, runs bleeding from the nose. He screams out and tries to say words, but he doesn't know how. They just come out in screams and moans. He meets Xavier out on the lawn of the front and immediately calms down as his forehead touches the Professor's hand.

"Get in there and find anyone who needs medical attention," Xavier yells, suddenly losing his cool.

"Go now!"

As the X-men begin to fan out, they can hear Xavier's voice in their minds. « Groups of 2. Fan out and find anyone who might need our help. Before it's too late. »

*

Jean releases the Professor's shoulder, attempting to move aside until the doors burst open which takes her by surprise. She was frozen solid, right up until the man was immediately calmed, Jean practing her better graces looks away to another space to at least protect the crazed man's modesty. "Uhm. I'll go with Scarlett." The decision was made right then and there, Jean picking up with a slight skip to brush a hand along the man's shoulder. His legs grow weak, eyes fluttering until he collapses upon the ground in the guise of sleep. At least that's one that they don't have to worry about for now.

Thanks for the lessons, Charles.

While it was a good thing she didn't blow that mans brain asunder, she sidles up toward Rogue, a gloved hand offered like a temptation as she begins to walk backwards, her eyes upon the woman. "Elbow to elbow yes?" Jean calls out, a little smile upon her face as she disappears through the doors and into the sanitarium beyond.

*

"It's covered in metal," points out Erik. "They're hiding something." This revelation darkens the expression on his face. Perhaps he's paranoid, or, perhaps he's seen enough Sheisse in the world to be able to smell it at a distance.

Given that Armando is next to him, Magneto gives the young man a short nod. Then, his eyes cast out toward Crystal, who gets a look. He's not going to tell her to be safe, but it's clear in his expression.

He moves along with Armando, gesturing toward the western wall. "I'll create an opening there. Run."

Magneto breaks into a run. As he goes, he flings both hands forward. The metal sphere splits into a dozen smaller items, which zoom ahead of them toward the wall of the sanitarium. They pierce the wall, then, with a twist of Magneto's wrist, they begin ripping a hole right into the structure.

After all, it's best if everyone doesn't enter from the same place, in case this is a trap.

*

Logan isn't much for partnered work and the two people he would have partnered with most naturally get snatched up easily. He nods to Crystal after seeing Magneto run off with Armando, "Why don't ya stick with me, darlin', we'll see if we can't sort this out," he says, starting to push through the crowd towards the doors.

*

"Bobby, come with me." is Alex's contribution towards planning things, though it comes a little late, he was off his game and probably meant something else. But, too late now, he rushes in to go seek out what's going crazy.

*

Crystal smiles faintly at Erik's look, perhaps grateful that he doesn't actually say the words, before she nods to Logan. "Don't worry about me," she says as she follows after him, holding out one hand ahead of herself. The faintest breeze stirs the air in that direction, circling ahead and coming back in her own attempt to feel out obstacles or unusual presences. "I can handle myself." It comes with a small smile, recognition, perhaps, of the man's independence.

*

Bobby was already heading toward Alex for today's buddy system and head inside with him. "We should take the higher floors and… No, all bad things happen in basements right? Let's go down."

*

Whatever cosmic wavelength Rogue is tuned into gives her time, a warning called out: "Incoming!" She lifts from the ground another precious inch, scorning gravity on principle. Redheads united make a fine front, and her completely clothed arm links with Jean's as though they might be about to perform a quadrille or a country dance. Within a heartbeat, the pair of them are zipping along the hallway without a trace of a sound disturbing the ground, a subtle vortice thrown behind them.

"Figure you can bust open those doors the way you tethered Sam?" Rogue asks, deviating along the corridor in a naturally unpredictable zigzag pattern to get around anything thrown down. It's an unfair advantage to have so little resistance. Provided Jean /can't/ get the doors open, then the bohemian will rotate on her shoulder to present the whole of her back to the entrance and plow through instead, shielding the telepath from whatever resistance cares to encounter an obdurate young woman who quotes Swinburne easily as she dances on cloudtops.

*

Armando nods towards Erik. "On it. I'll stick with you." he says to the older mutant as he begins to run towards the western wall. He gives a quiet salute towards Logan as he heads off- running with good speed towards the wall where Magneto opens the wall. He rushes through- vision shifting so he can see clearly through whatever might be in this apparent fortress. He's inside, and quickly- taking a look around for any apparent oddity.

*

Rogue and Jean make their way down the corridors to find wandering and confused patients in hospital nightgowns shuffling around. The lights crackles and pop oddly, those still on flicker, reflect oddly off the floor, and shroud the hallway in darkness.

Magneto and Armando enter a room that seems to be just a bit different than the others: Two bunks, but one of them has a small blue blanket on it that looks as though it could have belonged to an infant at one point. It looks rather old and used, however.

Bobby and Alex enter the basement and, to their horror, it seems like something out of a Nazi scientific experiment house. There is blood over way too many beds and the floor, and all sorts of horrific tools sit on trays.

Crystal and Logan enter into a lounge of some sort. The lights are off, but a tv tuned to static sits in the distance with a lone person sitting on a low couch. The patient, seemingly a male, doesn't move as they approach.

*

There was something to be said about having an experienced person at her side; Jean allows Rogue to take the lead by way of linked arm and a lift of her feet from the ground. It was almost a call back. Rogue would know the scene; from the cotton and wet tongs that deliver electric shock and the dragging and kicking of feet down the hallway. A flashback.. not real.

"It's not real." She says to herself, to cement that fact, even as the people wander, swaying as if an old tune played upon the radio and they were enthralled and enchanted.

« It's okay.. » She reaches out to those lingering few, though with her uncontrolled touch of the mind, it would be shame if everyone were to here. « You can relax.. »

Rogue snaps her out of her reverie for the moment as her hand immediately snaps out, eyes squinting to focus upon the doors, imagining that large burst of force thrusting forward from the palm of her hand as the door itself buckles from the middle, then blasts itself open with a ruin and oddly bend of the metal.

"Toss me in!"

*

"Holy fuck. Professor,…" Alex is left dumbfounded for a few seconds, looking over to Bobby, but with a slow shake of his head, he begins to look around, "Keep your guard and look around, but keep eachother in a line of sight— ice up, I mean, Bobby." He's rolling his shoulders ready to blast the HELL out of someone at a moment's notice.

*

Striding forward, Magneto reaches out to take the blanket it hand. He studies it for a moment, perplexed at its age and overuse. In a quiet part of his mind, he wonders if Charles is clued in enough to see what it is he's seen.

Erik offers the blanket to Armando, then lifts his hand to beckon the small metallic balls over. "We must keep moving," he instructs, and moves toward the door.

With a quick shove of his hand, the door whips open; busting any lock that may or may not have been engaged. The metal balls begin circling around his head as he goes, in a manner that is as graceful as it is menacing.

Once in the corridor, he looks to see if anything seems awry.

*

Logan doesn't find the guy sitting alone in the dark room watching a TV full of static to be a particularly comforting discovery. Call him intuitive. He sniffs the air carefully, making sure the guy's not just a straight up corpse left to rot where he died.

"Hey there, bub. Maybe you oughtta think about evacuatin' with everybody else? Unless yer part of the problem, o' course, in which case…" he says, but considers his next course of action. He's used to black ops, where he had targets in mind and could kill freely. He's not so sure Chuck will look kindly on him doing a better-safe-than-sorry mauling through the back of an armchair.

*

Crystal walks softly behind Logan, glancing to the television and back to the man on the couch. "In which case, we'll have to put a stop to things," she finishes his sentence. "I'm sure you'll understand." As she speaks, a swirling globe of water starts to form around one hand, the movement of air around her coming a little closer to the man on the couch as she starts to circle around to the front.

*

Bobby just stands there for a few moments before looking over at Alex. He doesn't say anything or nod but after a sec, he does ice up. "What the hell are they doing here? Who's doing this? We have to stop them."

*

"Why we need you here," Rogue whispers to Jean, an intimate volume when the two of them nearly dance. "Your compassion keeps innocent people from being hurt. Whatever you need to do to keep them safe, do it, darling. I'll be your aegis." S.H.I.E.L.D. was taken, sadly. "Keep moving forward or get an open line to the sky?" Slim, unyielding arms will not let the telepath fall until she specifically asks for it, and she then gently launches Jean forward on an elegant parabola that will ensure a fairly soft landing. Not so much the case for her as she vaults upwards towards the ceiling and flattens close, peering around the corners of the hallway whenever it jogs or bends. No doubt two little redheads poking their heads past a fork in the layout would be comical. Provided nothing immediately triggers a sense of awry wariness, she proceeds to check off open doors and rooms along the route as they weave their way through the sanatarium's floor.

*

Armando's eyes narrow, looking towards Magneto- then towards the room. "Its like a prison cell." he mutters, shaking his head with quiet disgust. He keeps it all in mind, though- taking a quick moment to search the room to see if anyone was hiding. He takes the blanket, nodding quietly. "Could be important, you're right. Only thing that stands out here." he tucks the blanket it into the belt of his uniform.

Darwin continues on, moving with Magneto. He's ready- nose twitching- absorbing information. "You're right. We need to hurry. Something bad is happening here, Magneto. Something terrible. We can't let it continue."

*

Logan and Crystal approach quietly and carefully, but in a move that would surprise even Logan and his superior senses, the man turns around and starts screaming a low pitched moan. At first it seems as though it's an attack. It's soon clear, however that the elderly gentleman is both blind and deaf. His eyes are covered in white and he makes no response to their attempts to discuss things with him.

Abruptly there's a large commotion in the hallway where Rogue and Jean are, not far from Logan and Crystal. Magneto and Armando even nearly walk out into it. It's like a slow moving stampede of men and women, clearly mentally disabled as the wander in a slow column up the hallway from the back room.

Strikingly, they look much different from the other patients the team has come across. This group looks rather emaciated, almost as if someone put a straw in them and sucked the very life and blood from them. In all there are 20, maybe more. Several of them fall down dead in their attempts to get out.

Below, Bobby and Alex make a harrowing discovery. As they turn, they find an assortment of jars filled with liquid and some sort of matter. Upon closer inspection, they are body parts!

Rogue and Jean arrive shortly after and see the same thing.

"Happened, Armando. Past tense. Erik, please call the authorities immediately. Oscar, the doctor who ran this facility, grew apart over philosophy. I had no idea he would do something like this, and now I see why his basement was so full of metals that could block my mind." As Xavier takes a step forward, both Magneto and Armando can see the body, or what was the body, or a Doctor. It looks like he's entirely deflated.

*

Scarlett's words were a godsend. A moment of confidence that spans across Jean's entire lifetime. Empowerment to it's core. Jean believes she can do anything, especially if her mind was put to it just as she does now. "I will. I promise."

Keep them safe. That was going to be her primary goal, her primary focus. For when she tosses Jean and she lands with a trip and a wobble, her hands outstretched to catch herself, she could hear it. And feel it. More feel than hear. Confusion, fear. Terror. Everything all at once. Felt by the magnititude of those who lumber forward. Each and every one of them have lights. Lights that Jean tries to grab ahold of. Lights that slip through her very grip as her eyes open wide.. those few that fall down dead attempting to escape, were nearly linked with in an attempts to mentally grab at the last moments to ease their way to the light..

..or which ever bit of darkness their souls call to.

"STOP!" Jean screams out, her hands outstretched towards the gathering that try to escape, her hands at a near shake as her nose slowly begins to bleed as she takes those steps forward. A sense of sad morality comes over her as she walks. The state that they were in, the sad and sorry state that even a gentler Jean would wrap up into her arms and console.. yet the need is there to put them all out of their misery in one go.

'No one deserves to live like this, Jean. Let them go.'

"What?" Jean says aloud. "Kill them all?"

'Why not?'

*

Alex turns the corner, and looks, and… He just about nearly loses his dinner when he realizes what's really in those jars. And he has a sudden urge to burn this entire place to the ground. But he struggles through it, and says grimly, "Bobby, let's… retreat. There's nothing for… us here. There's… God I'm not going to go to sleep tonight after this."

*

Armando's eyes narrow, kneeling quietly looking at the 'deflated' body- those featureless white eyes taking in everything they were witnessing. "We need to find his work." Armando says quietly. "Everything about every victim." he whispers towards the two older men. "This is science of the worst kind. Like Mengele- monstrous. However, the information may save lives in the future… and protect against this happening again." Armando sets himself to do just that- to find whatever he can find- a notebook, loose notes, anything.

*

"Oh, dear God," murmurs Magneto. The sight is not unlike things he has seen before, and with the flashing of a distant memory, his fists clench. The spheres circling his head collide and mash into one sphere again, the effort coming with a strain of metal and electrostatic discharge capable of tugging his hair in the sphere's direction.

Jaw tensing, he crosses the room to the nearest telephone, and picks the receiver up from the wall. Fortunately, emergency numbers are listed on the telephone, so he rings up the County Sheriff.

"Yes, I am calling from the Westchester Sanitarium. I need to report a…"

His eyes take note of the deceased doctor, and there's a pause. For a moment, he seems pleased that the monster is dead, but the moment passed and is quickly replaced with pity.

"A…"

His eyes dash to Jean, then to Charles, and finally, to Crystal.

Sir? Hello, are you still there?

"A crime." Armando receives a harsh look when he mentions Mengele. "A terrible crime."

With that, he slams the receiver. "I agree," he says on Armando's coattails. "The authorities won't know what to do with this. Take anything you can… and let's get the hell out of here."

With that, Magneto stretches out his hands. Pieces of metal begin ripping free from the wall; instruments upend from their tables, ferrous items from all over the place. They fly over to form a cloud above Magneto's head, a cloud that continues to grow as he attracts more evidence to himself.

*

Logan almost pops his claws, preparing to turn the old man's turkey neck inside out, only to discover some rheumy eyed old fart drooling at him. "Jesus wept, old son, ya 'bout got to see the pearlies a bit early. C'mon, let's take you outside and see if we can find whatever hump was supposed to be watching you. Then you can turn up your hearin' aid while I kick his ass," he says, scooping the old guy up onto his shoulders and starting to march him back, "Think this part of the place is pretty well-cleaned out, sug, might as well come with me to check back in wit' the Professor."

*

Crystal jumps at the first sound from the old man, the flow of air around him intensifying for a split second before she comes to the same realization as Logan. "Why would they do this?" she asks quietly, following until she rounds the corner to find the rest of the patients falling in the hallway. "Sweet lord," she murmurs, a hand flying to her mouth just in time to hear Jean speaking to herself.

"Jean, no," she says quickly, hurrying to the girl and reaching a hand for her shoulder. She doesn't know the girl well. She barely met her. But she doesn't need to be a psychic to see the pain this brings to everyone on the team, or to offer consolation. "Jean. Peace, please."

*

The wrongness scours away Rogue's calm expression. Stricken green eyes flash in the dark, her gloved hands flying over her mouth. Force rotates her backwards to flatten along the ceiling, her booted feet braced against the dingy tiles. Thus might a seraph peer down onto Creation and weep for the horrific acts done by the One's children against their own kind, shaken to the core. A word hovers on her lips unspoken, the fates' mockery of presenting a psychic vampire with this terrible vision stilling her briefly. Full lips tighten in a downward crescent, forcibly bitten to pull her above the cacophony of moans and death. Her tears have been used up over her lifetime. She darts down to claim two of the tottering patients, scooping up their weightless bodies before their hearts give out from the sheer exertion of escape.

Until copper meets sight and streaks the air. She lays the patients down carefully as she can. A promise is a promise, one stronger than compassionate obligations.

However risky it is, she drops next to Jean slow enough as not to startle the young woman wrapped up in a conversation she cannot hear, a rising tide of alarm held temporarily in check. That damn bird might be whispering in tones she is blithely oblivious to. Rogue won't budge, not with an aureole of metal wrapping around Magneto's head, not with tears and sickness and terror thick on the air. She remains in arm's reach, hand outstretched if support is needed, if escape is necessary, if comfort is wanted.

*

Armando does find a small stack of notebooks pretty easily. They're not far from the Doctor's old office. Many of the pages are missing however, though it's not clear that there's enough time to decipher what sort of information is missing.

"Jean…" Xavier should not have brought her. She's too young and still too mentally fragile. As her messages of mercy emanate out, Charles gets a hold of them. When she utters the words, "Kill them all" she'll feel a strong, intense bolt of energy into the conscious parts of her brain, disrupting the electrical activity, as her Professor attempts to knock her out before she does anything terrible. Crystal is trying to stop her, but the Professor cannot take that risk.

"Rogue!" Xavier announces, hoping that if Jean falls the southern gal is there to catch her.

"The authorities have been notified. We need to leave before they arrive. Armando seems to have found some evidence—we shall study it before giving it to those who conduct whatever investigation happens after this." Xavier's eyes trail to anyone who might need support, but his message is clear: they need to leave now, regroup, and figure out where to go from here.

TOMORROW NIGHT
NYU

"Oh man, Alex. Thanks for coming down here with me. I can't wait to see this Professor. I've loved Egyptology for as long as I can remember and Dr. Abdul is the best." And it's the happiest that Alex has ever seen the young man in the weeks since his parents died tragically; a small bit of genuine joy in a time of misery.

TO BE CONTINUED…

*

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