Because everyone asked for more. ::blushes:: Thank
TITLE: Doubts and Worries
FOLLOW-UP TO: Coming Home
ARCHIVE: Want. Take. Have.
CATEGORY: Darkfic, angst, AU
RATING: R (for adult
subjects and violence)
DISCLAIMER: Marvel Comics and Stan Lee owns the X-Men and Raven
Darkholme. Donny and Chrome belong to me.
SUMMARY: Emotions and events begin to shape the immediate future
for Bobby and Remy without them even being aware of it.
Doubts and Worries
Jean stood outside Bobby's bedroom door, a frown marring her elfin
features. She didn't want to intrude on his privacy, but she was very
worried. No one had seen hide nor hair of him for a little more than
a week. Everyone that she had asked about it had not seen him and
had merely assumed that he was resting, or quiet or ... something.
No one had been willing to push too hard because it was obvious that
something was bothering the young man. That he was ... hurting. So,
everyone had merely given him the space that they assumed he wanted,
or needed, to come to terms with whatever it was that had so disturbed
While that did make sense, Jean felt that someone at sometime should
have run into him at least once. At breakfast, or lunch or in the
library or something. But no one had.
So, here she was at his door, ready to help him face whatever burdens
he felt were so heavy. With a sigh, she raised her hand and knocked
gently. There was no answer to her summons, so she knocked again,
louder. Still no answer. Sweeping the room beyond the door with her
mind, she found nothing. Not even those impressive shields that she
had encountered last week in the kitchen. Jean's frown deepened.
Checking the doorknob, she was almost surprised to find it unlocked
even though Bobby had rarely locked his bedroom door when they were
younger. Smoothly, it swung wide open on it's hinges, exposing the
room beyond to the light in the hallway. Feeling a little bit guilty
for trespassing where she had not been invited, Jean merely poked
her head into the room.
"Bobby? Are you in here?"
There was no answer, but then again, she didn't really expect one.
Instead, her eyes quickly adjusted to the dimmer light and it took
a long moment for her brain to comprehend just what it was she was
seeing. Bobby's bed was neatly made up, yet there were old and worn
clothes strewn carelessly across it. Clothes that she knew Bobby had
outgrown long ago. The dresser was also in unorganized chaos, with
almost all of the drawers pulled out and then emptied.
Forgetting about privacy, Jean stepped fully into the room and strode
over to the closet. It was in a similar state, as if someone had rummaged
through it's contents quickly and methodically, removing some items
and rejecting the rest just as easily. Taking in a deep breath, hoping
that she didn't end up confirming her own suspicions, Jean dashed
into the connected small bathroom. Instantly she noted that there
was no toothbrush or toothpaste. So too was the bottle of shampoo
and body wash missing.
It was painfully obvious that Bobby had packed up and left. Secretly.
But when? And to where? Most importantly of all, why?
//Scott. You better come up here to Bobby's room. I need you
to see something.//
Donald "Donny" Wilson sat at a low table in the back bedroom of
his father's sprawling ranch house. His father, Marcus Wilson - a
notorious underworld fence for stolen gems and jewels and his bodyguard-turned-lover
Joey Mendoza, had turned the unused space into a sort of work area
for Donny to pull apart and then piece back together his myriad electronics
projects. While not as affluent and rich as some of the more infamous
Guild Thieves that his father occasionally fenced for, the Wilson's
enjoyed more than their fair share of wealth. For Donny, that translated
into a private education at the hands of tutors, and access to even
the most sophisticated of electronics; his current obsession.
At least, electronics had become his obsession once his latent mutant
abilities began to manifest themselves in the past two years. His
physical mutancy, a third eye in the middle of his forehead almost
identical to the other two, was easy enough to hide from the public
at large. Long bangs and an affinity for hats and headbands was all
it took. But now that his extra mutant "sight" had kicked in, the
world had suddenly become a more fascinating place.
Donny could now "see" energy. How it flowed and traveled, how it
swirled into untapped pools, how it was emitted by all living beings.
How electronics hummed and pulsed with it when hooked up to a power
Due to his learned shyness and almost timidity around people, Donny
had focused all of his attention on electronics. He adored them and
was forever pulling them apart and putting them back together again
just to see how the "energy" flowed through their metal veins. Marcus
Wilson and Joey Mendoza went to great lengths to encourage the shy
and quiet young teenager. With few friends and no mother, they often
worried about him so they found it a relief that he was so intent
on learning all he could about the subject he had become so passionate
It was also due to his inability to tear himself away from his "workroom"
that led him to being home alone that day while his father and his
"Uncle" Joey were doing some business in the city with a thief associated
with the Miami Thieves Guild. Donny was so involved with his project
that he never noticed the house security system going down until it
was far too late.
With a gasp of surprise, Donny looked up from his work to see three
large and armed men storm into the room, masks on their faces and
shiny FoH symbols stitched neatly on their kelvar armor.
Raven Darkholme glanced at the blurred and translucent reflection
given to her by the shop-front pane of glass. A stylish and well groomed
blonde woman in a smart, yet somewhat conservative, business suit
stared back at her. She clutched at her purse a bit tighter and wondered
for the hundredth time if this plan was worth the pain and suffering
it would cause. While she didn't have any qualms with killing her
enemies, poisoning a group of political radicals would most likely
cause a backlash that would include a number of innocents. A few years
ago, that might not have bothered her too much, but it did now. She
had lost too many close friends in retaliation for crimes they had
never committed for her to be so naive ever again.
A sudden shifting in the background color behind her dim watery
reflection pulled her thoughts out of it's downward spiral and focused
her on the here and now. The store that she had stopped in front of
was a home appliance outlet and it held several televisions in the
front window. The previous show had just given way to a news update
relating to mutants and was showing a film clip from a battle that
involved what looked to be members of the X-Men. Raven's frown deepened
"Sometimes I hate them so much that I want to scream. Sometimes
I see them as shining heroes."
Startled, Raven turned her head sharply to see a tired looking middle-aged
woman standing next to her and intently watching the muted televisions.
"Who? The X-Men in specific? Or mutants in general?"
The woman paused, obvious in her reluctance to speak to a stranger
about such a touchy topic, but just as obviously needing to express
"Neither. Both, I suppose. I guess just those ... super powered
mutant groups in general. It doesn't matter which one you pick. They
all say the same things and they all get the same results. It doesn't
matter which one you choose."
Raven considered this for a long moment. She had always been able
to see the finer points of division between the various groups. In
many ways, those differences of opinion were painful and uncrossable
chasms, and in other ways, they were only tiny little things, easily
overlooked in a glance. Curiosity made her wonder what this woman
saw to make her think they were all alike.
"Why do you say that? There is a great difference between both method
and motive with a lot of the various mutant groups."
The woman turned to face Raven and the metamorph saw a deep well
of sorrow in her brown eyes. The woman hesitated a second, seeming
to size Raven up as if for potential danger or derision.
"It boils down to one thing. They all say they are trying
to make life better for mutants everywhere, right? Then why do they
always leave after the big dramatic fights? Why don't they stay around
to prevent the retribution that always falls on the head of those
mutants that don't have the flashy warlike powers? Where were
these supposed heroes when my daughter was beaten to death for being
a mutant menace?"
Raven's eyes widened in slight shock and her heart went out to the
woman. She was unsure what to say to comfort her, somehow doubting
there was anything that would offer comfort at all.
"Do you want to know what her dangerous mutant power was
that was so threatening to all of mankind that made her deserve to
die so horribly?"
Mutely, Raven nodded her head, tears pooling unnoticed in her eyes.
"She could grow plants. Force grow them without need of a hothouse.
Real dangerous, huh?"
Instantly, Raven's politically trained mind spotted something this
woman and her daughter probably never had.
"Trained properly, her gift could most likely have provided food
to a starving third world nation whose food resources are low. She
could have been a hero to a bunch of people with no other option available
The woman gasped slightly, obviously not expecting to find even
a shred of support for the loss of a mutant daughter, let alone declaration
of her potential to be someone important because of it. Then, the
woman steeled her own spine visibly and the lines in her face hardened.
"Well, the world will never know how much good she could have done.
She was murdered instead."
Then, she turned and walked away, leaving Raven alone with her thoughts
and a purse with a vial of quick acting poison concealed within.
It hadn't taken long for Jean to gather everyone into the War Room
for a meeting to discuss Bobby's disappearance. Once they were all
settled in, she stood up and cleared her throat. All eyes swung her
"I called you all together because Bobby has ... well, he disappeared
from the mansion. I'm not sure when exactly, but no one has seen him
in over a week. Like myself, most of you probably thought that he
was secluded due to some internal adjustment he was making to being
back home after so long. It was pretty obvious that something was
With the exception of a derisive snort from Logan, everyone remained
fairly quiet. It was finally Rogue that broke that silence.
"Ya'll mean ta say that ol' Bobby di'n't tell anyone about how he
was leavin' ta go on a trip with Gambit?"
Everyone shook their heads in the negative to that, but only Warren
expressed his distaste at Bobby's choice of traveling companion.
"Why Gambit? I mean, he's ... a traitor. Why would Bobby
go off with him when he could have asked any one of us to go off if
he needed to, I don't know, do whatever it is he's doing?"
Jean was about to remind Warren that Remy wasn't a traitor and also
to say that she was unsure why Bobby would choose him since he and
Gambit had never been close before when Logan beat her to the punch.
"Wings? Shut up about Remy. Neither you nor I have any right to
say anything about having a past you'd rather bury away. As for why
him, it does make a bit of sense when you think about what Bobby's
been through in the other world. Gotta admit, if he'd have asked me
to go away for a bit to help him sort out his head, I'd have gone
just as fast as the Cajun did."
Jean's head snapped around to stare at Wolverine in a mix of confusion
and worry. Absently she noticed that Scott and Hank were doing the
same as she and both of them were broadcasting their desire to help
"What do you mean Logan? What exactly did Bobby go through.
He wouldn't talk to me about it."
For a second, Logan blinked in mild shock and then a slight look
of understanding crossed his face. He pulled out an unlit cigar from
his pocket and shifted it around his fingers for a long moment while
he thought something out. When he looked up, it was with a shrewd
expression on his face, but he asked his own question instead of answering
"Did he talk to anyone besides me and the Cajun about what
the alternate universe he was trapped in was like?"
Once again, everyone shook their heads in the negative and Logan
merely nodded and grunted.
"That makes sense, too."
Jean could feel her temper slipping and she was vaguely aware that
everyone else was feeling the same way. It was Scott, however, that
demanded the answers he sought.
"Wolverine, what exactly did he tell you. Why wouldn't he
think he could come to the rest of us?"
For a long moment, Logan didn't say anything and Jean thought that
he might just keep it all to himself, but then he scowled and glared
"That world your precious Bobby was stuck on was in the middle of
World War III Cyke. Mutants against flatscans. And Bobby was a warrior
for the mutants. One that killed. There isn't anything that
you, or anyone else here, could say to him to help ease that burden
because none of you have ever carried it. That's why he didn't
think he could go to any of you."
Oddly enough, it was Ororo who scoffed at the very idea.
"Surely you are mistaken, or grossly over dramatizing things, my
dear Wolverine. Robert is a sweet tempered and innocent boy. He would
Logan cut her off with a glare and a growl.
"Once upon a time, so was I. Hard ta imagine me as a boy, I know,
but there ya go, darlin'. I have had blood on my hands since before
Chuck was born, but that doesn't mean I was born killin'. I
learned how ta kill 'cause I had no other choice."
And suddenly, Jean had the image of Bobby in the midst of a life
or death battle where it was kill or be killed blossom into her mind.
She felt the blood drain from her face and she swayed slightly. Reaching
behind her, she grabbed onto her chair and sat down heavily in it.
Donny's head was throbbing painfully and his stomach rolled over
in his body creating a wave of nausea as he slid foggily into awareness
once again. A pitiful moan sounded hollowly in his ears and he vaguely
recognized it as coming from his own mouth.
"Oh look. It's waking up. Finally."
The other voice sounded as if it were coming from down a long tunnel,
full of odd echoes and ringing tones. It was deep, male, sarcastic
and completely distorted. Painfully, he shifted slightly and tried
to open his eyes. All three of them. It was futile, he was blindfolded.
"You gave it too much chloroform, idiot. It should have woken up
long before now."
"How am I supposed to know how these things react to stuff. Everyone
knows that mutant's are weird around drugs and alcohol."
Donny moaned again as a spike of pain raced through his skull. At
14 years old, he'd never actually had more than a few sips of his
father's wine at dinner, but he suddenly was sure that he was suffering
from a world class hangover from whatever those men had given him.
That thought began to trigger his memory of what had happened. Of
sitting in his workroom when several FoH goons had shown up. Of his
panicked dash across the room to try and hide in the bathroom. Of
being grabbed from behind before he could make it to safety and of
having a sickeningly sweet scented cloth pressed to his face. Of a
sudden dizziness becoming blackness that only now was ending.
"Well, once it's fully awake then Doc can get a good look at it.
He'll be able to figure out a way to keep the mutie pliable but still
useful to our cause."
"Doc better do it. The boss ain't gonna be too happy if this don't
Not fully awake yet, but knowing that he was in some sort of trouble,
Donny couldn't help being just a tiny bit belligerent. If he had been
completely with it, he most likely would have been too frightened
to say anything, but his pounding head and his upset stomach was making
"Wha'cha do t' me? Why ya grab me?"
His words were badly slurred from the drug, but apparently he'd
been understood because a cruel chuckle sounded off to Donny's right.
Even with his three eyes blindfolded, he automatically turned his
head to track the sound.
"It's simple mutie. You're gonna use that power to spot hidden mutants
so that we can find them and thin the herd. Your service to humanity
will be much appreciated by all."
Icy fear shivered down Donny's spine and he suddenly wished that
he was still unconscious.
Raven had thought long and hard about what that woman had said.
She had thought long and hard about her mission and other missions
she had gone on over the years. She had also allowed herself to think
of the consequences of those missions. The consequences that she herself
had never had to face, but that other's had. Other's like that woman's
She thought about where she might be now if her particular
mutancy hadn't made her such an excellent and useful spy. If no one
had bothered to train her how to fight, to adapt, to survive. The
answer was simple. She'd either be hiding in plain sight, too frightened
to let anyone know of her secret or she'd be dead, beaten to death
by some genetic bigots. However, she could fight and she could
survive so she did. But did her fighting make it easier or harder
for those mutants who couldn't?
A tiny voice deep inside her whispered that she had inadvertently
made things harder for those who couldn't fight for themselves. And
that was just too much pain and guilt for her to accept.
So she ran.
Tossing the plan away, she had slipped into a public restroom and
changed her image once more. The sleek blonde business woman was replaced
by an older dark haired woman with a sagging jawline. Then, she'd
taken a cab to the nearest airport and caught the first plane to anywhere.
Anywhere but there. And her targets went on living with no idea of
how close to death they had come.
Jean leaned up against the doorframe and watched as Logan silently
packed his bags.
"I still think this is a bad idea. Someone else should go with you."
He didn't even turn to look at her.
"No, Jeannie. We talked about this already."
Jean sighed and nodded her head slightly.
"I think you're wrong. If what you said is true, then Bobby needs
to confront us with it. Confront it himself. Running away from us
and what happened won't change anything and it won't help him adjust."
Logan paused for a long moment and turned his head to stare at her.
So many things swirled in his dark eyes. Things she never could, and
probably never would, understand.
"You're right. Drake does need ta sit down and face what happened.
But it ain't gonna help if you and Cyke push him into a corner. He
needs ta come back here and do it himself. That ain't gonna happen
unless he feels like he's got someone in his corner."
Jean bristled at the thought that Bobby would feel trapped or cornered
by her or Scott in any way. She glowered at him and pushed off of
the door frame to tell him so when he suddenly brought her up short.
"After all, look what happened with Gumbo."
Jean sputtered for a moment.
"That's completely different!"
Logan nodded slowly, his eyes shrewd.
"Yep. It is. The Cajun was tricked into leadin' a bunch a killers
into a battle he didn't know was gonna happen and Rogue about killed
him for it. Bobby, on the other hand, was a willin' and active soldier
in a war that killed billions a innocent people."
Jean felt the blood drain from her face once again and her breath
caught in her throat. Billions? She shivered at the mere idea.
"But Logan, Bobby should know better than to carry around guilt
for what other's did in that war."
Logan grabbed up his bag and hefted it over his shoulder. He strode
towards Jean and the door, but paused right before he passed her.
Looking over at her, his stoic face flickered a brief flash of emotion.
"I never said he was carrying anyone else's guilt."
And then he was gone, leaving Jean to stagger under the weight of
what he'd implied about the young man that she couldn't help but picture
as a young boy in her mind.
Marcus Wilson was furious. Someone had dared to break into his home
and kidnap his only child, Donny. The work was very professional,
that much he could tell. They'd bypassed his security system with
what seemed to be relative ease and then taken nothing but his child.
No note, no ransom demands. Nothing. Normally paranoid of the police
because of his line of work, Marcus stared at the phone in desperate
uncertainty over whether he should call them and report Donny's abduction
"Marc! Come in here and see this. I found something in Donny's workroom!"
Snapped instantly out of his thoughts, Marcus turned and strode
from the room at the sound of his lover's summons. His long strides
quickly brought him to the back of their home and to the small room
that he and Joey had turned into a pseudo workshop for Donny and his
electronics obsession. There, he found the broad muscular dark haired
man fiddling around with the most recent project that Donny had been
working on. Some form of recording device.
Joey flipped a switch and a red blinking light on the black metal
box went out and another lit up green. A whir of sound and then the
computer monitor on the far side of the table began to play back moving
images that appeared to be in the form of heat signatures as if filmed
in infrared. What's more, there was also a sound recording as well.
Intently, he and Joey watched the odd video and listened to the kidnappers
as they grabbed Donny, drugged him unconscious and discussed their
plans for him in the name of the FoH. They also mentioned their destination.
For a long moment, Marcus just stared at the screen after it went
blank again, his devious mind working over time. Then, without a word,
he turned and stormed out of the room and back to the phone. This
time he didn't hesitate to pick it up and dial. However, it wasn't
the police he was calling.
"Hello? This is Marcus Wilson and I'd like to speak with Jean-Luc
While Dallas was a big city, it wasn't what Raven had in mind. She
had a vague notion of getting to the coast and starting a new life.
She wasn't sure why she wanted to go there, but she did. But for now,
Dallas would do. She was full from her dinner at a local restaurant
and all she wanted was to get back to her hotel and get some sleep.
She still had quite a way to travel and she needed her rest.
Walking around the building to the parking lot on the far corner
so that she could get to her rental car, Raven passed by a darkened
alley. Years of training and paranoia made her glance into it even
though she didn't expect to see anything out of the ordinary. And
she didn't, if you didn't count the fact that the homeless woman digging
through the dumpster appeared to be made out of metal.
Stopping instantly, Raven did a classic double take as her head
snapped back around. The woman, little more than a girl actually,
was shiny and metallic looking where she wasn't covered in dirty clothes
that were far too big for her. She was also painfully thin and scruffy
Moving slowly and calmly with her hands held out to her sides to
prove they were empty, Raven stepped into the alley. Her shoes crunching
on the pavement made the metal girl cringe back and whip her head
around to stare at Raven in obvious fear. She began to edge away into
"I'm s.sorry. I.I'll go ... j.just don't ... don't h.hurt m.me.
Raven smiled softly at the girl, her heart squeezing inside of her
chest at the sight of her hopeless expression and malnourished frame
swimming in oversized clothing.
"I won't hurt you child. Don't be afraid of me, after all, why would
I want to hurt you?"
Confusion flickered across the girl's metallic face briefly.
"I.I'm a m.mu.mutant."
Raven's smile deepened even as she felt her eyes water up at the
"So am I."
And then Raven let go of her power and shifted her appearance, letting
the tingle wash over her skin with a feeling of pleasure as she took
her own true form. Brilliantly vibrant red hair cascaded down around
bright blue textured skin and glowing yellow eyes.
The metallic girl stared in stunned fascination, her own eyes wide
in a mix of fear and delight.
"My name is Raven, but they call me Mystique."
The girl smiled shyly at her then and pointed one finger at her
"I.I'm Lydia, b.but they c.c.call me Chrome."
Logan tried to get comfortable for the flight. It wasn't easy. He
hated airports and he hated flying in commercial airplanes. First,
it was a pain in the ass to avoid the metal detectors, but his skills
in covert ops made it possible as long as he avoided the spot checks
with the portable wands as well. Metal detectors tended to go nuts
whenever he was around them. Secondly, the commercial flights always
seemed cramped, noisy and they took forever. He was, admittedly, spoiled
to the luxury of the Blackbird. However, he didn't trust his teammates
to drop him off at his destination and then to leave again. So, here
he was flying United.
As annoying as this flight was, he was sure that his frustration
level would soon rise even more. Cerebro was able to determine that
Bobby was in Los Vegas, but that was as much detail as the professor
could get. Most likely because Gambit was shielding them. And if that
was the case, Logan knew that he couldn't just go looking for their
names, either. The Cajun wasn't one to be found easily if he didn't
want to be and only God knew how many alias the thief had. So, Logan's
plan was to go to the most likely places to hunt down their scent
and question folks who might recognize their pictures.
And once he found them, he'd try and knock some sense into their
END: Doubts and Worries
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