Magneto had to admit that Scott Summers had flaws, many, MANY flaws, but when it came to devotion to cataloguing reports he could not be faulted.
The Necrosha "event" was over, but Scott had insisted on debriefing and collation of reports from all parties as soon as possible, just in case some overlooked aspect came to light that required prompt action. He could hardly be blamed for such a sensible decision, but this situation had been more emotionally draining than most, with many of the teams having to face lost loved ones in combat.
Magneto had dutifully completed his own report about his involvement, the dealing with of the revived Proteus, a sorry business, and was now reading the rest. He was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but shared Scott’s commitment to making sure everything really was over.
He paused a little before picking up the file that Sam and Dani had submitted, it was foolish he knew, but he still felt a certain proprietary pride in the New Mutants performance. He suspected they would not necessarily appreciate that, and how many of their successes were because of his training, and how many were in spite of his training, he tried not to think about too much.
Sam had always had an excellent writing style. If you were foolish enough to judge him by the stereotypes of his accent you might, for a moment, forget just how well read Sam was, and it showed in the attention he paid to the words he wrote. Magneto had graded enough of their papers to spot the paragaphs where Dani had added in her own, rather more colourful, turns of phrase.
As he leafed through the record he felt a scowl spreading across his face as his anger mounted. Not at the New Mutants, but for what Selene had done, resurrecting the Hellions had been in poor tastes, but DOUGLAS as well?
Magneto had long since given up any faith in a benevolent supreme being and had seen too much of the human capacity for evil to feel the need for a devil, but in that moment he commended whatever passed for Selene’s soul to the foulest demon that could lay claim to it.
It was hard reading, and he almost put the report down until he had calmed down, but kept going, he owed the New Mutants that much. He was actually dreading reading the end of this battle, as he suspected he knew what would happen.
It was about two pages later that he stopped dead, and carefully went back and re-read the whole page again.
His cloak flew from where he’d hung it on the door and barely had time to settle on his shoulders before he launched himself out the window. He didn’t NEED the cloak to fly, but the more metallic material he had near him the faster he could move and he wanted to move FAST.
Two seconds later, anyone in the flight path between Magneto’s quarters and the Med Lab felt a twinge in their fillings as his magnetic field flared.
Less than fifteen seconds later he landed outside the medical building. He pulled his EM field inwards again so as not to disturb any of the delicate equipment inside, but he still floated down the corridor at high speed and anyone in his path was pushed forcefully, but as gently as possible, out of his way (Annoying medical staff was always a bad idea).
He stopped at the isolation ward, landed gently and paused. Suddenly uncertain, he looked through the window in the door and saw what he had never expected to see. Sitting up in bed, looking the picture of health, was Doug Ramsey. He seemed a little older than when he had last seen him, and his hair was longer, but where magic was concerned anything was, apparently, possible. A bank of machines (probably Forges work, judging by how ramshackle yet functional they looked) were around the bed, and he had what were probably monitoring devices attached to him.
Warlock was by his side, which came as no surprise, and Danielle and Sam standing to one side as if still trying to assess things. Roberto was noticeably absent, probably with Amara, whose attack, by Douglas (whilst under Selene’s control), had also been outlined in Sam’s report.
No one seemed to be talking, well, Warlock might be, but he often forgot to make his mouth move in time with the words he was speaking, if he remembered a mouth at all. He could tell Douglas was taking everything in though, his gaze was, slightly different somehow, barely blinking, his eyes roving everywhere; at his friends, at the machines, and most often, at Warlock, as if looking for meaning… and probably finding it, Magneto mused. Doug’s eyes finally alighted on Magneto, and he smiled as if completely unsurprised, and motioned for him to come in.
Magneto was not used to being given permission like that, he GAVE permission, but felt he could make an exception under these circumstances. He pushed his way through the door.
“I honestly never thought that I would see this day! Douglas, it is SO good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Headmaster”
“Now there’s a title I haven’t held in a very long time.”
“The title still has meaning for me, and for you too… or so I perceive.”
His speech was also different, a little more stilted, as if taking a little more time to decide which words to use. But it was still unmistakably him, and he was right too.
He gave the quirky smile that Magneto remembered, usually when about to make a truly bad joke.
“Sorry I was late, sir.”
Magneto winced slightly, he should have seen that one coming.
“You’re not late any more Douglas, but don’t let it happen again.”
“No sir.”
Magneto nodded perfunctorily, did the same to the other New Mutants (who returned the gesture), and turned away to leave, before he might lose control of his composure.
“I’ll just go and check with the medical staff about how long you’ll be in here. Then I’ll be back and we can… talk”
“Yes sir”
As he left, Magneto paused for a moment and leaned against the corridor wall. He knew that he should see the bigger picture, see the loss of life, and pain, and wasted potential that Selene had inflicted on the world, but now, just for a moment, no matter how selfish it might be, he was grateful to the Universe at large that he had had one of his lost charges return.