Finding You

[theycalledmeacurse]

I know forever don't exist
But after this life, I'll find you in the next
So when I say "forever," it's the goddamn truth
I'll keep finding you...

Aliens. Of all the things that could have gone wrong on her first solo business trip for the school, somehow aliens hadn't really made the list of possibilities. Breaking a shoe on the way to the donor's office, her car breaking down on the way into the city, getting food poisoning from bad sushi — the list went on and on, but aliens had never really occurred to her. Staring up at the giant armored worm thing flying above the street a few blocks down, she realizes that apparently it should have.

It takes time for her to fight the crowds fleeing the epicenter of the attack, each second feeling like an hour, and then she's faced with one of those creatures, its weapon pointing straight at her—

Reflexes honed by years of training sessions in the Danger Room have her dropping just in time, the car behind her taking the brunt of the impact with a metallic screech, and then she's back on her feet, a short metal stick in her hand expanding to a full-length staff. She wastes no time in swinging it at her enemy with practiced force, focused on damaging that armor enough to get hold of its weapon. Once she has it, she should be able to take them out much more efficiently.

It's a good thing everyone is more focused on the alien invasion than the woman with the weird hair trying to play ninja in a business suit.

Comments

[on_ur_left]

A large part of Steve's mind is focused on the battle; angles and trajectory, strategies both small-scale and large, positions and movements of his teammates, civilians, and the enemy.

But a small part of his brain has been sectioned off so that he can quietly continue to freak out, just slightly, about the fact that aliens are invading Earth. And apparently, H.G. Wells was wrong, and they aren't dying from microscopic organisms that humans are immune to.

Just one more way the future has disappointed him.

The police seem to finally be doing their job, herding civilians away from the attacks - although that's kind of hard, when the enemy has flying bikes that can attack from anywhere, as well as laser weapons that that same small part of his brain is comparing to all the old sci-fi movies. That small part of his brain has to grudgingly admit that the real thing is much cooler than the bulky laser blasters from the movies. Is that a good thing, since it's not a disappointment, or a bad thing, because the reality is so much more deadly and accurate than the portrayal?

Something to think about later, when he has more time to process those kinds of thoughts; right now he's moving so fast, throwing his shield, jumping and jabbing, kicking and spinning towards and away from the enemy almost before he consciously registers what he needs to do.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notes an alien facing off with a body that's neither alien nor wearing one of his team's outfits; his shield is hurled with pinpoint accuracy to crack at the base of the alien's skull, which he's discovered is a weak point if you hit just the right spot. The alien goes down, and Steve gets his first look at the civilian, dressed professionally and looking like maybe she can handle herself.

Time seems to stop for a second. For just a second, everything blurs, all the shrieks and alarms and cries from battle turn strangely muffled, as Steve stares at the woman.

"...Marie?"

[on_ur_left]

Three weeks later, Steve sits in his apartment, staring out the window with his cell phone in his hand, a business card on the table beside his laptop.

He took Marie-- Rogue's advice, and did some homework on mutants, and her team in particular; it didn't take much research to realize the 'X' on the card stood for X-Men, and Steve's not considered a tactical genius for nothing.

It's a lot to take in, mutants, not even counting how people feel about them. He's been thinking about it a lot; mutants, and his first meeting with Rogue. (He's gotten used to calling her that in his head; even if it's just a call sign, it's a tangible way for him to distance her from his Marie, to think of her as her own person.) He's not surprised at the dislike and distrust he's read online, not even very surprised at the ferocity of it. Disappointed, yeah, but not surprised; people always fear and mistrust things and people they don't understand. He thinks even if he didn't have a connection to mutants through Rogue, he'd still feel for them, still be on their side.

Between learning about mutants, and helping restoration efforts for the city, he hasn't had a chance to call her. He really has been busy, but part of him still feels like a coward; like he's been putting it off and avoiding her. He hopes she doesn't think that. Her parting words make him think she was ready for him to never contact her again - but that doesn't mean some part of her hasn't been disappointed every day she doesn't hear from him. He knows a little something about that kind of disappointment.

So, Steve selects 'Rogue' under contacts (he doesn't even have to scroll through a menu, he's got so few contacts in his phone, yet), presses 'Call,' holds the phone to his ear... and waits.

[theycalledmeacurse]

The meeting... hadn't gone well. None of them had, lately. Charles had hoped that going in person for this one would help their odds of being heard, but instead all it seemed to do was rile up the opposition even more. And worse yet, Charles had heard—

Those thoughts are shoved to the back of her mind, buried under a dozen other things, but she can still feel the fear beneath those layers. Lurking in the dark, waiting to rise and strike. It's without any real thought that she pulls her phone out of a pocket and thumbs through the contacts, finding a particular name and typing out a message. ]

I'm in town — got any dinner plans?