xp_logs | Doug gets mutant-bashed...

Doug and Artie walked out of the Barnes and Noble, Artie eagerly paging through the book on sign language that Doug had just bought him. "So, you really like the idea?" asked Doug nervously. Artie nodded, and gave him a big thumbs up. Doug smiled, relieved. He hadn't been sure how Artie would react to the idea that he could teach him sign language, so that he could better communicate with everyone else. Holding the book under his chin, Artie tentaively made a few signs. ~Thank you, Doug.~ Doug grinned widely and gave Artie a one-armed hug as they continued walking through the mall. "No problem, little buddy. I'm glad I could help."

As they walked by an arcade, Artie continued to happily attempt to make more signs. At the same time, a group of teenaged boys walked out, spotting Artie and Doug. The ringleader, obviously looking to attempt his cronies, walked right in front of Artie and Doug, invading their personal space. "Lookit the stupid deaf kid, guys." Waving his hand slowly in front of Artie's face, he slowly said "Helloooo deaf kiiiid." Artie's eyes narrowed and he stuck his tongue out at the teenager, starting to lift his hand to give the boy a universal sign needing no translation on Doug's part.

Grabbing Artie's hand quickly, Doug pushed Artie behind him. Trying to back away slowly, Doug held up his other hand in a placating gesture. "Look, we don't want any trouble," he said. However, by this time the group of teenagers had moved to surround Doug and Artie. The ringleader sneered. "Really? That's too bad, mutie-lover." Doug grimaced at the intentions written all over the young man's face. Quickly shoving Artie through a gap in the circle, he told him "Run. Get Mr. Summers." As one of the teenagers moved to intercept Artie, Doug grabbed a hold of his arm and held him back until Artie disappeared in the crowd. For his trouble, Doug received an elbow in the gut as the teenagers closed in and dragged him into a back hallway.

"Why are you protecting him, mutie-lover?" one boy asked as he shoved Doug up against a wall. "Why...*wheeze* do you hate mutants so much?" answered Doug. "Because they're dangerous, and they're unnatural," sneered the ringleader. "Really," Doug said sardonically. "A little kid who can't speak and makes pictures with his mind is certainly the most dangerous thing _I_ can think of. I see why you're so scared of him." The ringleader's face twisted at Doug's mocking tone. "Shut up!" he yelled, driving a fist into Doug's gut.

Suddenly, a quiet voice spoke from further down the hallway. Angelo had spotted Doug being dragged away from the main mall, and followed. "You *really* don't want to do that. Let him go. Now."

The ringleader turned, looking at Angelo assessingly. "What business is it of yours, jerkoff?"

"He's a friend of mine", Angelo answered, still deadly calm. "And I won't say it again: let him go."

The ringleader laughed, seeing the odds still well in his favor, ten to two. "What've we got here, boys? Another mutie-lover looking for a beating?" Turning to two of the boys not holding Doug, he said "Get him."

Angelo grinned dangerously as the boys rushed at him. One of them took a punch to the stomach, and while he was still gasping for breath, his friend found himself grabbed in an armlock and thrown back at the ringleader. "Who's next?"

The armlock victim and four others stepped toward Angelo, slightly more wary now that they had seen his speed. Meanwhile, the ringleader and one other continued hitting Doug, cursing him out as they struck.

Angelo held his ground, silently challenging the five boys approaching him, while keeping an eye on Doug's immediate tormentors. Deciding to try a bluff, he slipped a hand into his pocket as though reaching for a weapon.

The boys continued to hold their ground between Angelo and Doug, just out of range of a knife slash, content for now to let Angelo make the first move.

"That's right", Angelo said softly, edging towards Doug. "You just stay over *there*, I'll take my friend and leave, and everybody'll walk away from here."

The five boys continued to slide between Angelo and the four beating up on Doug, while staying out of his reach. Then, suddenly, the last boy, the one Angelo had hit in the stomach, charged and tackled Angelo from behind. In a flash, the other five were piled on Angelo, pulling and punching at whatever they could.

Unfortunately for them, they hadn't survived three years in an LA street gang. Angelo, fighting them in earnest now, used every less than orthodox trick he'd ever learned to battle his way out of the pile. When he was on his feet again, two of the gang were gasping for breath on the ground, the others watching him warily and keeping their distance.

One of the boys hitting Doug moved away to join the fight with Angelo, leaving only the ringleader, who laid into Doug even harder while Doug tried to curl up as much as he could while being held by two large goons. The five remaining boys fanned out, trying to move at least one person out of Angelo's peripheral vision.

Angelo kept track of as many of his opponents as he could, always aware of the approximate placement of the one he couldn't see. Knowing it would only benefit them if he lashed out, he stood waiting for their move.

Every now and again, one of the boys would fake a move forward, trying to get Angelo to react. Finally, one tried to take a kick at Angelo's kneecap from just out of his vision range.

Angelo, barely even blinking, hooked his ankle around the boy's outstretched foot, and brought him crashing to the ground. "*That* was stupid", he chided. "Who the hell taught you to fight?"

The boy rolled back, scrambling to his feet, red-faced in embarassment. Trying to prove himself, he charged Angelo, arms wide.

Angelo rolled his eyes. It was just too easy to make these idiots mad. He shot out a hand and grabbed the boy's unprotected throat, squeezing just hard enough to make his point without doing any real damage.

Seeing this, the ringleader decided to put some pressure on Angelo. Grabbing Doug's throat in a slightly more constrictive grip, he snarled at Angelo. "Let him go."

There was really only one thing to do, since Angelo had no idea how far the kid would really take this. Raising his hands ostentatiously, he let go of the boy and took a step away from him. "OK. Now you let *him* go."

Laughing, the boy squeezed tighter. "You gonna come over here and make me, jerkoff?"

Angelo stood frozen, wanting to *do* something about the situation, but not sure what he *could* do without making things worse. Not daring to move closer to the boy, he said desperately, "Look, let him go. You want a fight? Fight me. He's done *nothing* to you."

The ringleader laughed. "It's not what he's done. It's what he _is_."

Scott moved quickly behind Artie, keeping a hand on the boy's shoulder, letting him guide Scott to where Doug was in trouble. That's what he had gotten from the boy's "TROUBLE" card, knowing that Doug had taken Artie with him today.

Back in the hallway, Angelo played his final last-ditch card. "Then it's what I am too. Why don't you pick on someone who can fight back?" And with that, he deliberately relaxed his skin, hoping to draw the boy's anger onto himself.

Scott heard Angelo's question, and stopped Artie. He whispered, "You stay here, and keep low." Then he walked around the corner, into the mouth of the hallway. "Is there a problem, Mr. Espinosa?" he said in his best "Teacher's Voice." Scott crossed his arms over his chest and bore himself up to his full height. The glasses kept the boys from seeing just which one he was looking at.

Angelo didn't even try to hide his relief. "Mr Summers..." he started, then trailed off, and just indicated Doug and his tormentors.

The ringleader stared at Scott, slightly unnerved by the arrival of yet another person, as well as being unable to see Scott's eyes behind the sunglasses. "Who the hell are you?" he asked with false bravado.

"I'm these boys' teacher," he walked forward steadily, hands at his side now. No fear at all, in fact, maybe a bit of anger showed in the tightness around his mouth. "And I'd /suggest/ that you leave. Now." He went right up to the leader and looked down at him.

The ringleader backed away hastily, scared that even more people might show up. He sensed the momentum moving away from him, and decided to cut his losses. As he ran, so did the rest of his group, the ones Angelo had knocked down holding their stomachs and moving more slowly.

Scott moved quickly to check on Doug, waving at Angelo and tossing the van keys in his direction. "Check on Artie. Bring him here, then get the van and bring it to the front entrance."

"Wait," he stopped and looked at the other boy. "You okay?"

Angelo, already moving to follow Scott's instructions, paused. "Yeah", he said, gingerly touching the bruise that had already formed around his right eye. "I'll be fine." Turning quickly, he ran off to fetch the van.

Doug blinked up at Scott, licking his lips. Summoning up most of his energy, he asked a single question. "Artie?"

"He's fine, Doug. It's Mr. Summers," he said, carefully examining the boy's injuries. "Can you move?"

"Good," was Doug's reply to Scott's answer. Then, his eyes closed as he sank into unconsciousness.

Scott swore quietly, then looked a bit sheepishly at Artie, who stood next to him. "Don't tell anyone I said that. Now, stay close." With great care, Scott picked up Doug and began moving toward the entrance to the mall, not letting Artie stray from his side. They garnered a number of looks, most certainly. But Scott's grim face turned any and all questions aside, even from the mall security, who belatedly headed in their direction.

Angelo was waiting in the van outside the front entrance, as Scott had told him. Seeing the situation, he jumped out to help get Doug inside.

"Let's lay him out in the middle seat. Artie, you get in the back." Scott let Angelo open the door to the van, then laid Doug down inside it.

"You get shotgun, and keep an eye on him," Scott told Angelo as he went around to the driver's side and got in.

Angelo ran round to the passenger side and got in quickly.

Scott put the car in gear after a brief wait for everyone to be belted in, then drove as fast as he could, as safely as he could, for home. Questions on how this all started could wait.

As they approached the exit to the mansion, Scott turned to Angelo. "Call the mansion, tell Dr. McCoy to meet us at the front with a stretcher." He passed over his cellphone. "Hit Speed, #2. It's pre-programmed in."

Angelo took the phone and hit the indicated button. As soon as it was picked up, he said: "Hey. Dr McCoy? Um... we kind of have an emergency. Doug's been hurt and we're bringing him home. We need a stretcher out front..."

"Of course, Angelo. How far out are you?" His voice was mild, interested in the way of someone who has to do this often, and is always curious as to what happened each time.

"We're about 15 minutes away", Angelo answered. "Mr Summers is bringing us back."

"I'll be there. I'm sure he'll be just fine, Angelo. Leave him in my capable, if furry, hands." Hank hung up the phone and began to make preparations. He didn't know the extent of Doug's injuries, of course. But from Angelo's tone, it wasn't immediately life threatening. Besides, Scott would have gone to a hospital, if so. Hank hummed to himself as he prepared the medlab for yet another student patient, and then brought the stretcher up through the school.

Paige looked up from where she had been working on another husk log for Dr. McCoy. He wasn't moving at his usual calm stride and the stretcher in tow announced a crisis of some sort. Spinning around and jumping out of her chair she took off after him.

"You know, I'd tell you that everything was fine, but you wouldn't believe me," Hank said to Paige as she caught up with him.

"No doubt," Paige replied, already perfectly at ease with the doctor from only the few weeks they'd spent together. "I'm a worrier by nature. Who is it?"

"Doug, or so Angelo told me. He went to the mall today with Mr. Summers and Artie, yes?" Hank asked, not quite sure of the whole student contingent that went.

Paige paled considerably but managed to nod. "Yes, that's right. They'll be here soon won't they?"

"Yes," and as if on cue, as the stretcher arrived at the front door, Scott and crew pulled up in the van.

"He's been unconscious since the mall, Hank," Scott said as he got out of the van and moved around to the side. Hank was already opening the door. The two of them moved Doug to the stretcher, and then Hank began taking the unconscious boy inside.

Scott stayed at the van, helping Artie out of it. "Angelo, stay here, please."

Angelo didn't object, leaning against the van to wait for whatever was to happen next.

Scott looked serious, but not angry. Concerned. "Since Doug's not able to talk for a bit yet, tell me what you saw, Angelo."

Angelo sighed, then began to speak. "I just saw him getting hauled off by the morons you found us with. So I went after them to try and help him."

Scott sighed, and then turned to Artie. "Okay, Artie. Doug told you to come find me. What happened?"

Artie sighed and, in a series of pictures, showed Scott the story. Artie and Doug coming out of the bookstore, the boy making fun of Artie, Artie sticking his tongue out, and Doug sending Artie off to get Scott.

Artie stared at his feet, dejected. Taking out his new book, he opened to a few signs and showed them to Scott. ~My fault.~

"Not really, Artie. . You didn't make those boys do anything. They are the ones who beat up Doug." Scott smiled at him as he spoke, then his face turned serious. "However, you know that people are scared of mutants. And your tongue, like Dr. McCoy's fur and Sarah's bones, make the fact that you're a mutant obvious to everyone. Dr. McCoy can use an image inducer when he goes out, so he doesn't look like one. And you can keep that tongue in your mouth." He sighed. "When people are scared, sometimes they lash out. That's what those boys did. So we have to give them reasons not to be scared of us, but that's going to take a long time. So, please, Artie. Keep that tongue inside your mouth, okay?"

Artie nodded hesitantly. ~Sorry,~ he signed. ~Really sorry.~

Paige, who had been standing there in silence, kneeled down, opening her arms to the boy. He toppled into them and she gave him a tight squeeze, stroking his hair for a moment. Over Artie's shoulder she smiled at Scott, encouraging and almost as if educating him in the next step. Paige let go and tapped the boy's nose before getting to her feet. "We know, chickpea."

"Make sure you tell Doug that when he wakes up, okay?" Scott dismissed him, and turned to Angelo. "Go see Dr. McCoy now, okay? Make sure you're all right. Paige, make sure he goes."

Angelo nodded reluctantly. "Okay..."

"Yes, sir- Scott." Paige shook her head at herself but looked amused. "I will."

Scott got back into the van and drove it to the garage.

Paige took Scott's departure as opportunity to get a good look at Angelo. She was not very pleased at what she saw. "What did you do? Walk into a door? Or a series of doors?"

Angelo ducked his head, but was forced to admit, "Uh... more like a few fists and feet. I couldn't just stand by and watch them do that to Doug..."

"Oh, Angel..." Paige sighed and gently took his chin in her hand, judging the damage. "That was stupidly brave of you. I assume there were quite a few of them."

"Yeah", Angelo said, scowling. "Cowards."

"Yes, of course. Come on, let's get you down to the lab." Paige instinctively took his hand, leading him inside.

Angelo pulled his hand away, trying to pass it off, when she looked surprised, as an "I'm fine, really" gesture.

"Fine. But you're still going down to the medlab. I don't often beat up already beaten up people, but for you I might make an exception. Let's go." Her tone wasn't angry but it was warning and she certainly wouldn't put up with nonsense right now.

Angelo sighed, but made no further protest, following her meekly into the building and down to the medlab.