2013-01-01 After Bobby

Bobby Drake has died.

That was the message that was sent back to the X-mansion via the Blackbird. There were no details given, but within 15 minutes the scream of the X-jet can be heard in the distance as Cyclops brings the plane in.

Alone.

A soft *piff* of exhaust flares out as the ramp lowers and Scott comes down the ramp slowly. The mask has been pulled back off the top of his head, revealing a mussy head of dark hair. His face is dirty and he holds his side.

With the news, terse and nonspecific, the moment Kurt hears the characteristic whine of the engines, he's teleported into the bay, on the sides, watching as the aircraft makes its landing. Once it's down, engines off, and the gangway is set, he begins his approach towards the lone figure on foot, tail drooped, his expression filled with concern, and dread. "Scott.. what hap-" but before he can finish the question, there comes a statement, "You are injured."

Despite the way he left the other night, when Warren hears the news, he basically drops everything and flies out to Westchester. He arrives shortly after the Blackbird does and heads first to their base beneath the school to try and find others. He darts through the various rooms before hearing the plane landing in the hangar and rushes in. He sees Kurt and also starts with, "What..." but overhearing about the injury, he then moves to try and help the elf tend to the wounded Scott.

The cry of powerful jet engines is unmistakeable. Kwabena Odame, outside, looks up toward the sky as the Blackbird makes her approach, the cigarette in his hand drooping to the side. Two owlish blinks take his eyes as he watches the plane descend and disappear, and there is a moment's hesitation before he pinches the cigarette out and stuffs it back inside his pack to be disposed of later.

A few moments pass before he can be found inside the subterranean tunnels with an expression of concern and confusion in his mismatched eyes. The need to help has become infectious to him, and when he spots Warren making his way through the tunnels, he moves to follow. He's the last into the room, boots skidding to a bit of a halt just beyond the circular doorway. The Ghanaian remains silent, standing there near the doorway in case the others need any help, though the look of anxiety is clearly visible in his widened eyes and the slight downturn of his lips.

"He's dead," Scott says plainly. "I couldn't save him. Some mutant. She had claws. Like Logans."

Scott holds his hands up blocking Kurt and Warren away. "It's okay. I'm fine." He moves to the closest seat; one of the work benches along the wall. He exhales and reaches up to remove his visor, putting his face in his hands while breathing deeply. "I just couldn't get back up there in time."

Kurt watches as Scott deflects both him and Warren, and instead turns to follow his friend's progress to the seat. Yellow eyes make their way back to the plane, the question forming, "Is he..?" still on the Blackbird? He gives a look towards Warren, a sadness truly takes over in those eyes before he looks to the newly arrived.. and nods. His voice is soft, "We cannot do everything, Scott.." A deep breath is taken and another step is taken towards the aircraft, "You cannot."

"But...he's ice..." Warren starts, but also moves with Scott to the seat. He looks over at Kurt for a moment, their eyes meeting before he also glances over at Kwabena. A nod is offered before he looks back to Scott, "Let us make sure you're ok, all right? We don't need to find out that two are gone at the end of the day."

The grief witnessed in Scott is not at all dissimilar to the feelings Kwabena had experienced when he was made to believe that Betsy, Domino, and Carol had all been killed in Latveria. A deep rise and fall of his chest is all that he shows of this momentary understanding, before keen eyes are looking about the hangar, an unfamiliar place, for something familiar.

There. Canteens, resting upon a wall nearby a collection of other field supplies.

Moving away with dutiful steps, Kwabena snatches one of the canteens from the wall and rejoins the others a moment later, offering the canteen filled with water to Scott. Only then does he truly acknowledge the others, men he'd only met in the briefest of senses during the gathering a short while ago. It comes in the form of a silent acknowledgement with his eyes, before he turns to acknowledge Scott. "Let's get you to de medicah bay," the Ghanaian urges quietly. "You can tell us more dere."

Scott replaces his visor with his glasses which he keeps in his belt and exhales long and labored. "He's not in there Kurt. There's no body. He shattered everywhere. And I'm pretty sure from how he fell he was already dead by the time he hit the pavement." Even Scott is disgusted at how crass it sounds and he swallows with some difficulty. He nods to Warren and Kwa, "The ribs were already broken. I don't think it did too much further damage."

Kurt's tail droops to where it is almost dragging the ground as he turns about, his foot already on the gangway to head up and in. He looks back at his stricken friend and nods his understanding, though there's the added now.. "I will find the proper prayers for that, then." He doesn't bother crossing the distance between him and the gathered by foot, and in a hearts beat, he's gone from the aircraft, and appears beside them all. "Then you go to the medical bay.. und we'll see to those ribs." He's not suggesting they move upstairs, however.. to be bombarded by people? Just. Not. Yet. "I will find you something warm to drink, then we will sit." And have a debriefing.

"Broken ribs aren't 'nothing', Scott..." Warren also tries to help convince him to go to Medical where something can be done about them rather than remaining in the hangar. He gives another nod to Kwa, "Thank you. Yes, I think that's a good idea." He's not really too sure what else to say -- he's never really lost a friend like that before.

"Shattered into pieces?" echoes Kwabena. His brow furrows, for it sounds remarkably similar to something he'd been through before. One hand rises to rub thoughtfully at his chin, distracted only momentarily by the way Kurt re-appears beside them. His eyes jerk to the side just so, watching, noting the ability without much in the way of the surprise that actually takes hold in his heart. At long last, he decides to voice one thought, looking mostly toward Kurt and Warren. "I've been dead before." There's a beat, in which the remark might come across as entirely morose, before he offers a bit of clarification. "Similar way. One of your peopah helped to put me back togedah."

Alright, so that offers a -bit- more clarity, right?

"Come on, Scott," urges Kwabena again, and jerks his head toward the open circular doorway leading out of the hangar.

Scott gets to his feet and nods to each of them in turn. He pulls himself along and makes his way for the hangar door and shuffles off to the left where the Medbay is located. Kwabena's comment does not initially get a response from him. Hoping there was a way that Bobby was still alive was his first thought as well. But with the way his limp body fell off the roof and the way it shattered....he thought those hopes were just wishful thinking. And grasping at things that aren't there.

Warren is given a grateful look, as well as Kwa, though Kurt lingers on the other man for a little longer, his brows rising even after the 'explanation' that doesn't explain anything at all. "Good.." and he follows the group slowly, his path always seeming to lead back to the medbay. "When did you get the broken ribs?" How long have they gone untreated?

Warren looks over at Kwa when he offers a little bit of his own history, "You were shattered? Literally or figuratively?" He lets Kurt deal with the question about the ribs...he's not going to heal them unless they can't be healed on their own.

"In a mannah of speaking, yes," answers Kwabena. He moves to follow the others, hanging back with Warren and Kurt for the time being. Scott knew of his powers, but how much could the others have known? "I encountered a powahful force field." He lifts a hand up, looks upon it closely for a moment with narrowed eyes. There is a quiet 'poofing' sound as his hand literally turns into black smoke, then reforms momentarily. "It scattered my molecules beyond repair. Beyond dat gas." He looks back toward Scott as they walk to the medical bay. "Perhaps... I mean, dere is always hope. We are mutants, normal laws do not apply to us."

Scott shakes his head, "I hurt them when we went to Jean. When I got knocked off the snowmobil..." His words are cut off as Kwabena speaks. Scott stops and looks him right in the eyes as best he can with the glasses concealing his own. "Listen to me," he begins sternly. "There is no hope. I saw him die. And it's my fault. I don't want to here that there is a way. And I don't need to believe he could still be out there. I watched him die. Telling ourselves any different is only going to help us delude each other."

Kurt watches the display, his head rocking back a moment at the show of his power before glancing towards Scott again. Taking a couple of steps, he reaches out to touch his friend's arm. "Do not begin to blame yourself, Scott. Knowing the two of you, it was not in vain. There will be none to hold you to task. We all are aware of what may happen at any given moment in our lives. We have pledged ourselves to it." As the German speaks, his own voice catches. It's never easy. "We will see what the Good Lord has in store for our friend, in His time."

"Don't blame yourself," Warren echoes, "Kurt has it right. We all know what could happen...what can still happen. Bobby died a hero." He lifts an eyebrow at Kwabena's little display of power...very interesting and good to know. He then tries to change the subject a little, "Did you at least strap your ribs after we got back?"

Stopping cold, Kwabena meets Scott's eyes the best he can. There is a brief flash of stubbornness, for he hadn't gone through hell in Latveria to lose his faith in hope. However, his respect for this place and its purpose seems to outweigh any desire to argue. He doesn't back down, figuratively, but he doesn't voice any disagreement either.

Instead, his attention seems caught by Kurt and his words of encouragement. His head tilts just so, for it reminded him of his home, and the heavy influence of Christianity across Ghana. He tilts his head in a very slow acknowledgement to Kurt, making a note to speak with him and Warren later. He knew grief, and it may not be the best time to discuss an investigation while Scott is dealing with the weight and consequence of leadership.

"Yeah," Scott says, seemingly forgetting the altercation with Kwa almost immediately. "Yeah, I went prepared. Was wearing a special vest, but I hit my side pretty hard." As far as the other stuff, he doesn't pay it much heed. In his eyes, he could have stopped it. Getting to the medbay now, he pulls out of his shirt revealing a small body vest worn for protecting the very injury he had. He winces as he takes it off, revealing some purplish nastiness. "Someone hand me that scanner?"

Kurt enters the medbay as well, and at the request, his tail grabs the requested item and hands it over. "This injury may actually require you to take some time off.. und if you do not, I will have to find a way to insist." And it's said so very kindly.. as only a German accented voice can. He looks back at Warren, yet another sad but appreciative look is given to the man who is pretty much his best friend. And Kwa is certainly acknowledged for his aid. Now, as things get underway however, his voice lowers as his attention comes back to Scott, "Where did all of this happen, mein freund?"

Warren follows but also remains quiet. If the injury was life-threatening, he'd heal it, but broken ribs...Kurt does have a point. He stations himself nearby in case it gets to that point.

Following along, Kwabena remains silent once more, only serving to hang back for the time being, looking on with thoughtfulness and concern.

Scott sighs and waves the wand over his side, "Thanks Kurt." A moment later the readouts on the far wall spring to life, showing Cyclops' innards and vitals. "I'll live," he says. It's not terrible news, and not great news. The blunt force caused a lot of pain but the shielding did it's job. "We were called down to the clinic. Someone broke in and started grabbing hostages. Mutant hostages. It was a military style force. Something big." He sighs and looks around the room, "They killed a few of them, we killed a few of them. They moved to retreat and that's when /she/ got Bobby." Trying not to break down, Scott holds firm and regathers himself. "I tried to get as much information into the Blackbird scanners as I could, but I couldn't wait any longer. SWAT was about to descend on me."

Now, the Blackbird was used. That means that anywhere around the world can be reached in a matter of minutes or hours. Anywhere. In. The. World. But, Kurt looks stunned at the news that it was the clinic. "The clinic." He repeats and looks out in the direction of 'Mutie General'.. and asks again, softly, "The clinic. Military-style.. grabbing hostages?" Patients? Staff? Doesn't matter. The sadness deepens in those yellow eyes, but there is something else.. an anger. Something that is rarely heard, but it hangs below now, in his close-clipped words. "They killed.." He doesn't seem concerned that some of the attackers lost their lives. Save that for confession.. when he cares. "She.. do you know who /she/ is?"

"There's information in the jet's scanners, Kurt," Warren repeats Scott's words in regards to 'she'. "Let's make sure he gets fixed up for now." Or...as fixed up as bruised and broken ribs can be. "Scott...what can we do to help?"

Scott shakes his head. "Just review the information. Get out whatever you can from it. We need to get out there and find those missing hostages as soon as possible. If we don't, Bobby will have died for nothing." Scott shakes his head, "The ribs will just have to heal at their own rate. The vest provides good defense. I'll just have to be careful." He sighs, remembering Bobby falling, "And stay out of the way of any more walls."

Listening intently, Kwabena's expression gradually changes from curiosity to something lingering between anger and hesitation. He was still finding his place, and wasn't sure how involved to get. Still, the need to help remains as infectious as ever, and he takes a few steps closer to them. "What is dis 'clinic' dat you speak of?" he asks. "And would dere be any reason for a... militant force to attack it, aside from wanting to kidnap mutants?" He gestures with his hands indicatively. "Political positioning, access to certain special assets, anything?"

"Sick men, women und children," is the controlled answer. "A hospital." Kurt looks to Warren, and he nods. He'd heard.. and yellow eyes move back to Scott. "Ja, you are right. They must be found und released, und those who are responsible.." He takes a deep breath and murmurs, "I will start that now und give a copy to Henry as well." And after he's got that done, he'll go to St. Patrick's and light candles. Within the next breath, the blue elf is gone, undoubtedly on board the Blackbird, leaving behind the smell of brimstone.

"People attack because we're mutants," Warren explains. "Nothing else matters in some instances." Even though he hasn't had the personal experience of being persecuted like that, aside from anything he did to himself. "We'll get them found and released, Scott...but you need to rest and heal. If a rib breaks more, it could puncture a lung and then I'd have to bleed all over you and that'll just get messy." He looks over to Kwabena then, "Could be a private force too."

A couple of slow nods are provided as the picture becomes more clear. Following a thoughtful moment, Kwabena decides to kiss caution goodbye. These men would need to know about his past one day, so he might as well be willing to blow that door open now. "I can go to New York and work my contacts in de criminal undahground," he offers. "It might be a futile gesture, but you might be surprised how far de papah trail can go when it comes to illegal things. If dis organization isn't sanctioned by any governments, I might be able to turn up some few things."

"Do it," Scott says with a nod toward Kwa. "Take any info you can get out of the Blackbird before you go. If you need help with the readouts, Kurt can help you." He nods to Warren. "Thanks for being here, Warren. Means a lot." After a brief pause, he adds. "Gonna miss him."

Warren also looks to Kwabena when he offers his contacts, "I don't know what I can do, but let me know what I can do to help. We'll all miss him, Scott..." and Warren's going to make sure that the Professor really and truly can't find him, even with Cerebro, before he completely gives up.