Iron Before Steel

Strange Visitor: Iron Before Steel

Chapter 11 – Helping Hands

September 27^th, 2009 – Xavier’s School for Gifted Youth/Institute of Higher Learning

Clark ran his hand along the side of the black sedan they rented to drive up to Westchester from Brooklyn. They’d spent most of the week in Illinois with Ma and Kara. She’d taken quickly to Lana and Bucky, as was her way, and had demanded as much of his attention as she could for the week. He’d had to promise her – and his Ma – that they would be back before her birthday on Halloween. He looked forward to taking her trick-or-treating in town for the first time and celebrating her first birthday with them, which would be her fourth overall.

She had already extracted promises from Pete, Lana, and Bucky that they would also be at the party. She’d seen a birthday party on one of the kid's programs she followed on TV, and now she was very much looking forward to her own.

And the presents, which were something she hadn’t been familiar with before.

The four of them drove back from the Midwest yesterday to the house in Brooklyn. They’d rested the night at home before heading to Westchester again this morning. They had arrived at Xavier’s school just half an hour ago, and Lana had taken Bucky to the Professor’s office once they’d parked the car. That left Pete and Clark free to do whatever they wanted. Pete had noticed a group of students on the basketball courts and had made a beeline for them. He muttered something about getting more practice with his leg as he walked toward the gaggle of kids playing ball.

Clark stood there momentarily, looking lost and pretty stupid if you asked him, and glanced around the school grounds.

In addition to the kids that Pete was now UN-impressing with his overinflated basketball skills (he’d been better on the gridiron than on the court), several students seemed to be having a picnic further back on the lawn. They laughed and enjoyed the pleasantly warm autumn air while discussing teenage things. He could hear a spirited discussion in one of the classrooms in the ginormous mansion about the morality of using one’s powers for personal benefit. Clark found himself agreeing with the girl, saying that as long as they didn’t use their powers to hurt anyone or break any laws, it shouldn’t matter if they used them to their advantage as well. Well, up to a point, he supposed. He could see several of the staff, i.e., the X-Men, relaxing in what must pass for the ‘Teacher’s Lounge’ at the school and basking in some actual adult conversation, though he quickly moved on when he realized it was of the personal variety. And he heard Emma Frost mention his name.

Overall, it appeared to be a typical school day for the collection of future superheroes and children on the grounds. However, the schedule here seemed weird. Only half of the kids seemed to be in class at any given time on a weekday. Oh well, it wasn’t his problem.

He felt a little guilty about going to them and asking for help with their current project. Clark thought a little more, realizing it was Bucky asking them for help to find Steve so he shouldn’t feel too guilty about bothering them. Plus, it looked like they had more than enough time on their hands between the adults and the small number of students right now.

I wonder if that will change soon. How many mutants are there in the whole world? Hmm.

A small group of boys ran past him, giggling, and Clark’s eyes almost popped out of his head when the third boy flipped directly over him instead of running around like the other two. It wasn’t that the boy had done the flip, but rather that he was a rich dark blue color from head to toe, with short black spiky hair on his head. Clark spun on his heels as the boy landed his aerial somersault with the agility of an Olympian (athlete, not extraterrestrial/god). He was offered a quick “Verzeihung!” over the shoulder as the boy kept pace with his young friends.

Clark tried not to giggle himself and fanboy out over what could only have been a ten or twelve-year-old Kurt Wagner. He saw the little blue devil’s tail waggling behind the boy as he ran and bit back a smile.

Nightcrawler! So cool! Screw it, I’m gonna laugh and smile all I want when I visit here.

Clark did just that, laughing out loud at the children’s antics all around him, basking in their cheer and innocence. It was good to see something worth fighting for like this every so often. It helped balance out the darkness he willingly subjected himself to on a nightly basis by confronting the worst humanity had to offer. And reading the Daily Bugle’s latest rant against him and whoever else might be in Jameson’s sight lines.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly while enjoying his moment of peace.

Which came to an end as Clark heard footsteps approaching on the grass. A bright blue furry face grinned widely at him from behind circular spectacles.

“Welcome back, Mr. Kent! It’s always a pleasure to host you in our meager little slice of paradise. I do hope your journey was without trouble. It’s most fortuitous that you’ve arrived just now. My mechanically-inclined partner and I just recently completed the work we had undertaken after a most thorough examination of the wonderful aircraft you left in our care. I was wondering if you might like to join us and take a look at what we have?”

Clark blinked. Hank McCoy certainly liked to speak a mouthful.

I think he means that they’ve finished working on the Quinjet... maybe?

“Uh… sure. If I heard you right, you’d like to show me what you’ve done with the high-tech classified government jet that I let you guys tinker with? And the answer is a definite yes. We were hoping we could steal it back for the little mission we’ve come to discuss with the Professor.”

Dr. McCoy beckoned Clark to follow, and they began to walk toward a small equipment shed or outbuilding that wasn’t far from the basketball courts. The doctor smiled as he strolled along next to Clark.

“Do you mind if I ask what brings you back for another visit? If it’s a personal reason, by all means, feel free to ignore the inquiry, but it does tickle our curiosity to see you and Mr. Barnes again so soon after his clean bill of health.” The good doctor’s ears perked up at that, waiting to see if Clark would offer any information to sate his evident curiosity.

It wasn’t a secret, so Clark happily obliged.

“Bucky wants help finding his lost friend. We’ve come back to borrow the Quinjet to take it north toward the place where we think Steve Rogers' plane went down more than six decades ago. The Quinjet has some pretty advanced detection equipment, which Kelex should be able to modify to narrow down the search area. People have been looking for Captain America since the day he was lost, but I’d say we’ve probably got the best chance and motivation to actually do it.”

Whatever McCoy had been thinking or expecting, that certainly hadn’t been close to the mark based on how wide his eyes were at that moment.

“Oh, my stars and garters. Could you imagine? Bringing home the quintessential American War Hero for his long overdue internment. Certainly something long, long overdue. I don’t think you’ll have trouble finding help here, Clark. And wouldn’t you know it, I’ve got even better news for you on that front, too? I have something to show you down here that I hope you will find… sufficiently acceptable at the absolute worst.” His grin widened enough that the canine teeth on his bottom jaw poked up just past his blue lips to be visible. Clark bit back a laugh at the hilarious-looking smile from the furry X-Man.

“By all means, Doctor. Lead on.”

They entered the shed and walked past several shelves filled with sporting equipment and other recreational items. The room was meant to supply the athletic curriculum for the students at the school, and it was well stocked. They moved through the rows of sporting goods and reached the far side of the shed. At the back of the small building, there was a door that led to... nowhere, as far as Clark could see. It was set into the back wall itself. McCoy strode ahead and flipped open a panel next to the door that had been hidden so well that Clark hadn’t even noticed it was there. Doctor McCoy punched in a code on the numerical keypad beneath the panel, and the door slid open with a whoosh.

“Cool. Very Star Trek-y. I’m a fan.” Clark grinned as they descended a staircase bathed in soft illumination.

“Well, I am Dr. McCoy after all. What else would you expect?” The Beast grinned at Clark over his shoulder as they continued down another flight of stairs. They stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and entered another door, which slid open similarly to its twin above them.

Clark stepped through, and his jaw dropped at the sight before him.

A large, sleek black craft sat in the middle of a cavernous landing bay in front of them. Its wings stretched out like a bird’s in flight to the sides of the craft’s elegant body. Clark could see that the jet had been modeled on the Quinjet he had left in their care.

It was as much a work of art as a marvel of technology.

Clark blew a soft whistle as they slowly approached the dark vehicle.

“I would like to present our X version of your Quinjet, Mr. Kent. It took Forge and I several weeks to disassemble and reverse engineer most of the technology aboard the plane you left us. Once done, though, we had no trouble refining most of the systems and the overall design of the craft to make it more functional and, at the same time, a little more visually appealing. Who says something can’t have both style and substance?”

Clark could only nod his head in approval at the sight. The plane was similar in size to the Quinjets, perhaps another 15 or 20% larger overall, but it didn’t seem like it with the more sleek lines and sweeping angles on this new aircraft. It looked like a sweet ride, Clark had to admit.

McCoy continued his lecture on the merits of the new jet.

“It’s powered by a hydrogen fusion reactor, so we don’t need to procure jet fuel or other combustible materials to power it. We’ve only tested her in simulations thus far, but Forge and I both believe she’ll be half again as fast as your older version. She handles better, too, with the improved flap system we installed. The best part, though, is that she’s absolutely silent. A true stealth beauty, if I do say so myself. She won’t even need the cloaking system that you have on the original when flying during nighttime missions. We call it the Blackbird.”

Clark stopped himself from laughing.

Of course, it would be the Blackbird; how could it be anything else?

He looked over at his blue friend and nodded with emphatic approval. “It’s a damn-fine-looking plane, Hank. I’m impressed.”

The doctor walked over to pat him on the shoulder before answering. “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Kent. I hope you don’t mind that we made the same improvements to your jet when we put it back together. He motioned his head downward, which Clark followed with his eyes.

Entire sections of the hangar floor were transparent, some kind of clear metal he wasn’t familiar with, and a second large hangar was sitting directly under their feet.

Where his Quinjet was parked comfortably below, though it was hidden beneath a dark navy blue veneer. McCoy grinned as he added one last comment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we slapped a new coat of paint on it. We didn’t want to keep calling it Quinjet, so we renamed her Bluebird and gave her skin to match. It’s my favorite color, you know.”

Clark didn’t bother to stop laughing this time.

You have no idea how appropriate that will be one day, Hank.

____________________________________________

The atmosphere in Charles Xavier’s office was… intriguing.

All of the adult staff – meaning X-Men and Women – gathered there to listen to what they had come to ask. Bucky and Lana had already discussed the details with Charles directly, but he also wanted to invite his first pupils to hear it.

He was a big fan of individual agency and cooperation, it seemed.

They’d been forewarned that help was needed with a task, but not specifically what it might be. Emma Frost grinned at Clark from one of the chairs opposite the large conference table they were all assembled around now.

I wonder if she’s figured out how to read my thoughts yet. God, I hope not.

Clark blushed at the possibility of the woman getting a mind full of some of the things he’d caught himself imagining when he let his mind wander. She had a wardrobe that was very… eye-catching. And he could hardly blame her for being as drop-dead gorgeous as she knew she was. Frankly, all of the X-Men around him would be considered ridiculously attractive by the average person, at least back in his first life.

Huh. Wonder if all of the superheroes in this universe have movie star good looks…

Xavier snapped him out of his idle thoughts by speaking to the small crowd around him. “Thank you all for coming. Misters Barnes, Kent, and Ross have returned to us with a request for aid. I wanted to allow them to address you all and explain what they intend to do in the days ahead before I offer my opinion on the matter. Each of you, please listen and ask any questions you may have of them, and at the end, we can decide together on the best course of action. Mr. Kent, if you would be so kind?”

They'd decided ahead of time to let Clark explain, as Bucky was still struggling with the emotional aftereffects of his treatment and ‘therapy’ here. The topic of Steve was likely to overwhelm the man if he had to speak for too long about the subject.

“Well, thanks for letting us drop by again, first of all. I know Pete loves swinging through to say hello and make a fool of himself in front of as many children as possible. It’s been his go-to move since we were about seven or eight.”

“Ha! It’s funny ‘cuz it’s true! I regret nothing, CK!” Pete called without a moment’s hesitation from the seat next to me. Clark smiled and swatted Pete's legs off the table's edge as he’d gotten too comfortable in Xavier’s office.

“He’s also got terrible manners,” he continued. “But the main reason we are here today is because we'd like to ask for your help correcting a long-overdue injustice.”

That got their attention. Hank McCoy was already aware, so he didn’t show any intense interest in the choice of the word ‘injustice,’ but the rest of them were now very curious. Injustice was a big deal for mutant-kind – or would be in the near future when their existence became more widely known.

“Sixty years ago, Buck’s best friend sacrificed himself to stop a nuclear holocaust,” he nodded across the table to where Kelex was floating, and she activated the holoprojector in her ocular apparatus. A glowing hologram window popped up above the center of the table, projected in four directions so that everyone could see clearly.

An old newspaper headline from 1945 declared Captain America had been lost in action fighting the forces of fascism in Europe. Clark went on.

“Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America, was instrumental in driving back the scientific arm of the Nazi war machine known as Hydra. The very same organization that captured and enslaved Bucky for the past six decades.”

Kelex flashed another window that covered the first now, much like opening a new web browser on a computer. The new window showed a schematic of an advanced, for its time, aircraft in the shape of a large V.

“Kelex and I were able to access much of the restricted information regarding the fate of Steve Rogers. In March of 1945, Steve Rogers and his Howling Commandos, along with elements of the 107th Infantry and the Strategic Scientific Reserve, attacked Hydra’s headquarters to end them as a threat once and for all. They had learned Hydra was planning on launching a final attack with the intent of destroying major cities in the UK and much of the United States from New York to Chicago with these…” Kelex didn’t miss a beat as a third window popped up for all to see.

A small airplane – similar in size and appearance to a bomb – was shown on the screen, with a single seat in the middle of the “craft.”

“Hydra called them Parasits, but essentially they were piloted bombs. Each one of these bombs could destroy an entire city. The Red Skull, Johan Schmidt, who led Hydra since before the war, had used an artifact that they had discovered called the Tesseract to power much of Hydra’s rise.”

A fourth window showed a still photo of a small glowing cube. Kelex elaborated on this particular subject for a moment.

“The Tesseract is an artificial construct of incredible power. It is likely the housing matrix for a much more powerful artifact that Kal-El’s people had knowledge and experience of. Human records are sparse and incomplete, but the mythologies and legends of the area where Schmidt appears to have found the Tesseract indicate that it was hidden there over one thousand human years ago by the King of the Aesir, Wotan. In popular culture, he is also commonly known as Woden or Odin.”

That got the room buzzing. Questions started flying back and forth faster than Clark or Kelex could field for a few seconds as a general sense of disbelief and shock passed through the room. Even Bucky had no clue where the Tesseract had come from, and he’d actually seen the damn thing.

Clark motioned for them all to calm down for a second before continuing. “Regardless of the fantastical origins of the Tesseract, Kelex and I will be happy to go into that in more detail later, it was an object of almost unlimited power. Hydra used it to create weapons of unimaginable destruction,

witnessed by the good Sergeant there all too often. They had eight of these bombs on board the Valkyrie when Rogers boarded it and subsequently crashed it into the Arctic a few hours later.”

Everyone was engaged in the story now.

“Rogers saved millions of lives directly by preventing the launch of those weapons, and who knows how many indirectly. Who knows what would have happened if that destruction had been unleashed on the Allies? The war may have been lost, or at the very least, continued indefinitely.”

Bucky finally took over our makeshift presentation with a heartfelt plea to the people he considered friends.

“Stevie’s never been found since that day. Howard Stark spent decades looking, so has the US Army and probably every other government out there too, but no one has found him.” Bucky took a deep breath as he fought back the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I need your help to bring him home. He was my best friend. He was a good man, too damn good to be lost and forgotten out there like that. I wanna bury my friend. Will you help me?”

He looked around the table at the dozen or so faces listening to his impassioned plea, meeting each of their eyes without flinching away. The air was electric now as the staff of Xavier’s School began to look at each other with a single question on their faces. One by one, they turned to Charles, sitting in his wheelchair at the head of the table, flanked by Scott Summers on one side and Jean Grey on the other.

Charles met each of his pupils' eyes for a moment, and without fail, they all nodded as his gaze passed them.

He then turned to Bucky and, with a gentle smile, answered. “Mr. Barnes, it would be our great honor to assist you in whatever small way we can.”

Clark grinned at Barnes, who looked overcome momentarily as the man’s head drooped with relief, and his eyes looked down at the floor for a moment to compose himself. Clark gladly took the focus from the crowd and answered.

“Well, then, let me say thank you first. I don’t think I can adequately convey Buck’s feelings on the matter,” my eyes found Xavier’s for a glance, “but then you probably have a pretty damn good idea anyway of how he feels. So here’s what we had in mind…”

____________________________________________

No time at all had been wasted. Xavier had given his blessing, and McCoy and Forge immediately headed toward the hangar to begin readying the Black and Bluebirds for their maiden flights.

After a brief discussion, it was decided that four more X-Men would accompany them on their quest in addition to the two technical wizards.

Storm had offered her presence to help deal with the weather they were sure to encounter in the North Sea and Arctic, depending on where they ended up during the search.

Jean Grey had also volunteered. Her telekinetic abilities seemed the most useful for this mission, other than Storm’s, to help recover Steve’s body should they find it.

Logan was coming since he was now aware of the connection to Steve and Bucky. James Howlett had been uncovered during Bucky’s deprogramming/therapy sessions, and Logan had been learning a bit more about who he’d once been each day. They found quite a bit about the man in old records stored on the web.

Lastly, Emma Frost would tag along as well. She claimed it was because she was the only one left with no current students to teach and was also curious to see what they would find. Clark thought it was so she could flirt and make him blush. The look Lana sent his way showed she thought so, too.

The White Queen either really liked teasing Clark… or wanted to jump his bones. Or both.

It wasn’t what most people would consider a problem, but still… she was intimidating. Clark hadn’t been pursued like that before, in either reality, so it was a relatively new experience. He felt like a mouse being stalked by an exceptionally playful cat.

He was equally terrified and enthralled.

Clark stood near the main entrance now to the main mansion. Most of the X-Men were now heading back to their daily schedules, as was the Professor, as Clark and his friends prepared for their excursion.

Pete stretched his arms as he meandered toward Clark. “I’m gonna leave the exciting stuff to you guys this time and head back to Brooklyn. Someone’s gotta return the rental car tomorrow, anyway.”

Bucky, standing nearby, quirked an eyebrow at that. “Really? Aren’t you the one always complaining that nothing fun ever happens when you’re around?”

“Hey, normally I’d be all up in the adventure crew, but you all are headed for the Arctic! I hate the cold! CK, tell the man.” Pete shook his head with gusto and mocked a shiver.

“He does. He’s such a baby, even in the mildest winters. He’ll try and keep the thermostat at ‘simmer’ if I don’t lock him out.”

Pete laughed as Bucky shook his head in disapproval. Pete reached out to pull Buck into a quick hug and repeated it to Clark and Lana. “Hope you find your boy and bring him home, one soldier to another. Ladies.” He winked at Ororo, Jean, and Emma, who were waiting silently.

Clark couldn’t resist a parting shot at his friend. “Try and keep it under 90 on the road, will ya? That car is in my name.”

“No can do, CK. You know I’ve got a lead foot.” Pete grinned at his joke as he walked toward the car.

“I mean it, Pete. Don’t get a ticket,” Clark paused a moment before adding, “And don’t eat my MM’s!”

“No promises, CK. You know MM’s are legally considered communal property by every court in the country.” Pete laughed as he climbed into the car and started the vehicle.

“I’m serious, Pete! Don’t eat my… aw, man. He’s totally gonna eat all my candy.”

Clark stood with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face as a giggle caught his attention.

“I thought you guys liked Reese’s Pieces,” Jean Grey said with no small amount of mischief in her smile.

“Huh? Well, yeah, those are great too, but I like-” Clark stopped mid-thought as he caught the joke just as the three ladies beside him broke into laughter.

Lana also started laughing on his other side next to Bucky, though she did try to hide the smile and laugh behind her hand. Bucky just looked confused.

“An E.T. joke!? Seriously? What have I done to deserve such disrespect?” Clark asked in his most offended tone.

The tall redhead just smiled as she and the others walked toward the hangar entrance shed, throwing a wink at him for good measure. Emma started howling as Clark just shook his head.

“Lana, your friends are just plain mean. Picking on the poor alien for no reason.”

She laughed as she followed the other girls, pulling the confused Bucky along.

“Clark’s a what now?”

____________________________________________

Everyone was getting comfortable in their respective aircraft at the moment. Forge would pilot the Blackbird with Hank while Logan, Jean, and Storm rode shotgun.

Clark and Bucky would pilot the Bluebird – Clark did get a kick out of that name – while Lana and Emma joined them for the ride. With Kelex, of course.

Most of the new space in these modified Quinjets had been added in the cockpit, and another module just behind it. They now had a small kitchenette, a bathroom with a shower, and a rack of three bunks that would allow the craft to be used on long-term missions.

Each cockpit had also added two more seats, for a total of six at the front of each jet.

Clark was just now checking out the medical supplies on hand in the Bluebird when Hank walked up through the open hatch at the back.

“We are loaded and ready to depart as soon as you and Mr. Barnes give the word, Mr. Kent. Before we do, though, I would like to ask you something, if I may?”

Clark put back the last of the first aid supplies in the small locker at the back of the loading area and turned to Doctor McCoy. “Sure thing, Doc, go ahead.”

“Do you expect us to find Captain Rogers alive when we arrive?”

Clark stood there with a dumb look for several seconds before stuttering, “Hwha?”

“Do give me a little credit, Mr. Kent. It wasn’t hard for me to extrapolate from our data on Mr. Barnes already. He was consistently put into a version of suspended animation by Hydra as they waited for opportunities to use his specific skill set over the years. As a fellow recipient of an advanced serum like Barnes, Captain Rogers would also be quite resistant to the fatal damage that freezing causes to human tissues. I ascertained that it might be possible for Captain Rogers to be revived once we locate him, assuming that he survived the crash's impact.”

Clark could only shake his head in wonder. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Henry McCoy was likely one of the most intelligent men on the planet. It wasn’t hard for someone like him to put all the facts together and accurately assess the situation.

“I suspect that is the case, yes. I haven’t brought it up or said anything-” Clark couldn’t finish the sentence before McCoy’s eager smile split as the man interrupted.

“Because you didn’t want to raise any false hopes for your friend if Rogers did not survive after all, yes, that was a prudent plan of action. I simply wanted to verify that we were thinking along the same lines. Just so you are aware, I’ve packed my usual medical equipment as well as more advanced emergency equipment just in case it may be needed. Should we actually find him, there’s no telling what sort of shape Captain Rogers may be in.”

And at that, McCoy gave a little salute and then walked back out of the open hatch at the back of the craft.

Clark could only smile. It was nice knowing that there were other people out there who could think ahead as well as he did without possessing his unique advantage. He felt a little of the pressure that had fallen squarely on his shoulders since his arrival lessen with that realization.

He wasn’t alone in this.

Clark slapped the button on the wall next to him, and the hatch door began to close as an alarm blared throughout the plane. He turned on his heels and stalked confidently toward the cockpit.

“Alright, boys and girls, I think that should just about do it. Let’s hit the skies and find us a hero!”