Mutants and Molotovs: Holding The Line

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

A riot is, in many ways, an illustration of chaos theory. A chance event brings about a potential catastrophe, and the X-Men converge on the monorail track to try and prevent it.

What happens then will change one life forever.


It happened, not unexpectedly, by chance.

Two young mutants, exhausted and frightened and wanting nothing more than to find their way out of downtown Seattle and out of the rioting, walked past a building damaged several hours earlier at precisely the wrong moment. The exterior wall collapsed outwards, trapping one of the teenagers and leaving his friend to try and use her telekinetic ability to free him.

Five minutes later, six equally young and equally scared members of a Spanish 'genetic purity alliance' known as the Hijos Verdaderos passed by the same intersection, just in time to see the telekinetic openly using her abilities.

Profanities were exchanged. Then the young woman made the mistake of flinging a piece of wall at the Spaniards, trying to encourage them to leave her to help her friend if they weren't going to help.

The reaction was predictable. The trapped teenager, as the Spaniards moved in, shouted at his friend to get away, get help. She ran, and they followed, chasing her down the street and around the corner, where they caught her, beating her severely.

In the midst of the attack, she lashed blindly out with her telekinesis, stress lending her strength she wouldn't have had under normal circumstances. It managed to discourage her attackers, and she limped away, seeking help.

Totally unaware that her telekinetic blast had damaged a structural support of the monorail track just behind her.

Hours later, at one end of the monorail line, the operator who had just, under the supervision of the National Guard, loaded his train with upset and stressed evacuees who would be transported to the other end of the line, beyond the police barricades, was equally unaware.

---



Bobby was standing at one of the first aid stations, chugging black coffee from a paper cup, when an ominous groaning sounded behind him, on the other side of the tent. Oh God, what now? he thought tiredly, tossing the empty cup at a garbage can as he jogged out of the tent--in time to see a large chunk of the monorail track collapsing out from under the train.

"Oh....shit," he breathed, gathering his remaining energy with a speed that was almost painful and holding his hands out in front of him to channel it, in an effort to bridge the gap, stop the train, anything.

#HELP!# he sent as loud as he could manage, hoping that one of the telepaths would hear it. #The monorail...# He couldn't send more than that, as it was taking all of his concentration to try to stop the impending disaster.

Several blocks away, on the roof of an office building, Nathan heard Bobby's shout for help. Just because he hadn't been able to manage a telepathic switchboard in the midst of all of this didn't mean that he wasn't doing his best to keep track of his teammates whenever possible. He reached out to touch Bobby's mind - and his eyes went flat as he saw what the younger X-Man was seeing.

Taking off at a run, Nathan dove off the office building. However much he didn't like using his TK to fly, sometimes it was the fastest way to get where you needed to go.

Bobby tried to think, having only moments to come up with the best way to stop it. He quickly shored up the support to prevent more track from crumbling, then focused his concentration on the train itself, trying to weld it to the track with ice. It seemed to be working, but not fast enough--not nearly fast enough. The sound of cracking ice filled the air as Bobby tried to pour more energy, faster. #Please, hurry...it's gonna go over.#

#Hold on,# came Nathan's reply, and then he was there, landing at Bobby's side, his own exhaustion buckling his knees as he hit the pavement. But his psimitar flared, bright as a star, and power lashed outwards. Metal shrieked, throwing sparks as the toppling train scraped against invisible walls.

But the momentum was too much. The times Nathan had caught the Blackbird, he'd been at his peak, or near enough. Not twenty-four hours into riot control work.

Bobby paled, watching the train roll forward despite Nathan's effort, and redoubled his own. They had to be able to stop it. He began to shake from the exertion--if this had only happened even 6 hours earlier, it wouldn't be such a question of whether they could pull it off.

---



Scott followed Jean through the streets, not sure how either of them were managing to run when they were this exhausted. But Bobby's call had been too panicked, if Jean's reaction was anything to judge by, and the stream of images Nathan had projected to every X-Man within telepathic earshot had been too alarming.

They rounded the corner, and saw it. The monorail was toppling sideways even as it slipped through a growing gap in the track. Ice was growing around it like a blossoming flower, and the light coming off Nathan's psimitar was almost painful to look at. But the train was still falling.

Jean's eyes widened and it took her an instant to see what needed doing. Nate's focus was too intense to join him, but she could...

Jean's telepathy might not always be the stronger force. In time she might train her telekinesis until it was just as instinctive and just as powerful. But now? Now, as she reached out for her telekinesis her attention shifted, caught by a new mind intruding on the scene. No, not one. Not even just two. There were many, and they were angry.

#Scott!# she drew his attention to the rioters heading straight for Nate and Bobby, even as she fought to get a shield up around them.

"Cyclops to all X-Men," Scott snapped over the com. "Converge on the monorail track at 5th and Denny, ASAP!" He switched frequencies to the channel the Guard was using, calling for backup at the same time that he blasted the pavement at the feet of the oncoming group of rioters. How the hell do they have the energy for this at this point in the game? Fuck...

Unfortunately, this gave one of the rioters an Idea. Picking up rubble from the blasted sidewalk he launched it towards Nate and, also unfortunately, he had good aim. Fortunately, Jean was up to stopping a little rubble. Unfortunately, several of his friends thought this was a great idea, too.

"Backup NOW!" Scott shouted desperately. #Jean, shield them, help if you can...# And he ran towards the crowd, knowing that he needed to be in closer, put himself between them and the two X-Men holding up the train.

---

Kurt was there, as suddenly as his power allowed, though he was bruised and battered from the earlier trouble. He joined Scott in his efforts to hold back the crowd, offering the other man a strained smile.

"Nightcrawler," Scott gritted out, letting loose with another warning blast. An assortment of various projectiles came at them in return -bottles, a couple of pieces of pavement, whatever was to hand. "I can hold out here, more back-up's coming. See if you can get the people off the train. I don't know how long Cable and Iceman can hold it."

A glance at the train, and Kurt nodded once more. He was exhausted and stiff with the bruising, but he had enough in him for several more jumps. Enough, he hoped. He vanished.

Aboard the train was chaos. Already shaken by the events of the last two days, the evacuees were panicking. Some were shouting, trying to push their way to the questionable safety of the rear of the train, trampling whoever got in their other. Others were huddled, crying or frozen. Children were screaming.

"Please try to stay calm", Kurt called out as he arrived in the car. "Stay where you all are, I am a teleporter and I will take you to safety. Is anyone injured?"

---



Jetlag was something that Shiro could deal with. Being awake for twenty four hours straight trying to quell a riot was arduous, but not impossible. But combine those with a lack of sun, and Shiro could barely keep himself in the air, much less remain coherent.

But there was a job to do, and no one else was complaining about being tired, so Shiro would not - could not - do anything but his duty. After his earlier encounter with those two flying idiots, he'd spent most of his time playing human shuttle, carrying innocent bystanders away from the scene of the riot to safe places. He'd kept a steady pace, flying fast enough to get people from one place to another safely, but without seriously straining himself. But when he got the call from Cyclops, he put the pedal to the metal and sped across the city to the site of the monorail.

Shiro half-expected to see Godzilla wandering around Seattle, the damage was so bad. "Kamikaze here," he said into his com device. "I will assist Nightcrawler with the evacuation." Flying over to one of the front cars, he knocked on the window, and signaled the passengers to back up. Once they were a safe distance away, he released a controlled plasma blast, small enough to melt the glass so he could fly in.

"I can only carry out two or three at a time," he informed the frightened passengers. "Women and children first." Raising his hand, he fired another burst, blasting a hole through the roof big enough for him and his passengers. A young man pushed a little girl forward, an obvious mutant who seemed to be part butterfly. Picking her up, Shiro smiled. "My little sister would do anything to look like you."

---

Warren had been on a final sweep for injured when he got the call for backup and with a muttered curse banked towards Scott's position. His wings were screaming in protest, but he knew he had a job to do.

"Scott, I'm on my way, hold on...." he muttered as he began his approach.

"The train," was the immediate reply from Scott. A burst of crimson light hit the pavement in front of the rioters, driving them a few steps back, if only for a moment. "Evac the train first!"

Warren let out a deep sigh.

"Always have to be the hero, don't you Scott?" he muttered as he once more altered his flight path to take him to the train to assist with the evacuation.

---



Mindy Rasmussen was having a terrible day. She'd gotten up that morning determined to get a great set of notes for her term paper and maybe call that cute guy in her lit class. Then the whole city had exploded, it seemed like, and harried-looking cops had herded her into the monorail with a whole lot of other panicked people and sent them off toward the Space Needle. And then the whole train had shook, and made noises trains really shouldn't make, and the people with better views had started screaming about the track collapsing, and then ice had popped up everywhere . . . and now all she could do was stare out her window at the riot below and try not to break down completely. Cheerleader valedictorian poli sci majors didn't die like this. Did they?

A lion's head, upside-down, suddenly filled the window, and Mindy pulled back with a shriek. Hallucinations, on top of everything else? But wait, no, the lion was tapping on the glass . . .? Oh. Oh. Okay. Her perspective snapped back into place: just a mutant with a fuzzy face . . . maybe even handsome, except for the fur and the being upside down.

He was tapping on the glass. Impatiently. And trying to say something. Mindy started, and cranked the window down apologetically.

"My name is Kylun," the mutant said--still holding himself upside-down effortlessly, Mindy noticed, and that couldn't be easy, or comfortable. "What's yours?"

"Mine? My name? Oh! Mindy. Mindy Rasmussen." Oh God, she was babbling.

"Mindy," the mutant--Kylun--said. "I am here to get you out of the train, Mindy, but the doors to this car are damaged and I will need to cut through the roof. Can you please get everyone to move to the sides of the car, in case part of the ceiling collapses when I do?"

Mindy's heart leaped into her throat. He was here to get them out? Then the rest of it registered, and she looked dubiously around the train car--panicked people, screaming children, everybody including her stinking of fear. "I don't--I don't know." She looked back at Kylun, and something in his face--upside down and furry though it was--gave her a little bit of confidence back. He wasn't scared. "I could try?"

"Good. The sooner the better." Kylun smiled, and disappeared back up to the roof of the car.

Well, one thing cheerleading gave you was a strong pair of lungs. Even if she had been beaten out for head cheerleader by that conniving bitch Susie, and--oh God, what was she thinking? Kylun was counting on her. She took a deep breath, marshalled her best wake-up-the-grandparents-in-the-top-of-the-bleachers cheer voice, and yelled "Everybody QUIET!"

Incredibly, everybody went quiet. And started staring at her. Mindy gulped. "Okay. There's somebody here to get us out and he wants everybody away from the center aisle!" Gasps and frantic questions and--she didn't have time for this. "SHUT UP! Everybody to the sides of the car, NOW!"

And everybody went. Mindy thought she could really get used to this. A moment later, with a horrible shrieking noise that set some of the kids back to wailing, two--um. Sword blades? Yeah, that's what they looked like, sword blades. Like her little brother Brian's plastic samurai swords, only, obviously not plastic, since they traced half-circles through the train's ceiling without a whole lot of fuss before they withdrew. And then the piece of ceiling was lifted out of the way, letting the rain in, and Mindy got her first good look at Kylun as he dropped through the hole.

Hmm. Tall, and . . . Mindy almost blushed, he had a really nice butt in that black leather, and what was she doing thinking about that at a time like this anyway. But . . . still.

"Will everyone please not panic," he said, perfectly calmly, like standing in the middle of a collapsing train full of frightened people soaking wet in a black leather bodysuit was something he did every day. "My name is Kylun, and in a moment I am going to cut another hole in the train, and take you down a rope to the ground. I can only do this one at a time, but if you are patient and cooperate, every one of you will be safely down before the train collapses." He caught Mindy's eye, and she straightened unconsciously. "Mindy, while I prepare the rope, will you please help them get organized? The children first, and also anyone who is injured, or sick, or pregnant?"

He had really nice eyes, too. "Y-yeah, I can do that." He nodded, and turned away, uncoiling a rope from over his shoulder and testing the seats to find a solid one. Mindy looked at the rest of the people in the car. They were still scared, but they were looking back at her, and some of the parents were pushing their children forward.

Maybe this wasn't how cheerleader valedictorian poli-sci majors died after all.

---



Living with chronic incurable insomnia meant that Marie-Ange carried easily into her second wind, slipping from weary exhaustion to adrenaline-fueled energy without realizing it, used to having to tap into her reserves. She just felt -dirty-, grimy, gritty skin and sticky hair that kept getting into her mouth and eyes. She could sleep later - all she wanted was a hot shower.

None of it mattered when she heard Cyclops over her comm.

Behind her, she heard Doug practically bark out a demand for an escort. ~He sounds like Cyclops when he does that...~ Marie-Ange barely had time for the passing thought, before they were on the move - moving as fast as they could with a pair of riot police. It was just three blocks.. she remembered passing that intersection, hours ago, and as they turned a corner, she could just make out the crumbling support of the monorail, and beyond it, the train, covered in ice, surrounded by a corona.

She thought there were too many people to make a run for it, but they could jog, the two policemen flaking the two teenagers - and Doug leading Marie-Ange, dodging and weaving his way through the packs of people.

"Vision to Cyclops.. Lexicon and I are.. merde.. " They stumbled to a halt, still a block away, to see the train slide forward, despite the ice, and the painfully bright light that must have been Nathan's telekinesis.

Doug recovered first, grabbing Marie-Ange by the arm and dragging her through a spot that two people should not have fit into. Reading his immediate surroundings in the crowd, Doug wove himself and Marie-Ange through the crowd, quickly outdistancing their police escort. "We're en route, Cyclops," he said succinctly into his comm, using his elbow to convince a protester that it really wasn't a good idea to invade his personal space. "Less than a block out."

#Angie!# The strain and exhaustion in Nathan's mental voice probably accounted for the lack of use of a codename. #Angie... help... something, come up with something, we can't hold it...# He was on his knees on the wet pavement, his grip on the firmly planted psimitar the only thing preventing him from falling any further. There were people still moving on the train. Panicking, and between them and the crowd of rioters, his shields were shredding under the pressure.

#I do not have anything...# Marie-Ange started... and then stopped protesting, mid-word. She didn't have any cards, she'd lost her notebook hours ago, and she couldn't see any billboards or ads.. but nothing said she had to use a drawing. It had to be something she could see. She couldn't use her powers with her eyes shut, but her eyes were -open-. And she could see buildings, cars, people.. #The other supports... # .

Open eyes, open -mind-. Nothing was stopping her from building the supports back under the train. She could see them, plain as day, one was right in front of her.

#I need to get closer. I cannot see the ground from here!# She broke into a run, long legs carrying her past groups of gaping onlookers. Ten feet, twenty, twenty-five, half a block, to where she could see both a solid support and the broken one.

Marie-Ange stopped running when she could see the train, locking her eyes on the image forming itself out of thin air. Simple straight lines, the support columns were not complex at all to make. Concrete, or stone, she wasn't sure - and it barely mattered - rising into a T, holding up the track above.

The support structure was rebuilding itself. Nathan stared blankly at it, so exhausted that for a moment he didn't realize what was happening. But more of the train's weight was being supported, and he could get a deep breath, focus more of his energy on keeping the train level on the track, rather than just on the track.

#Keep it up... Angie, that's working...#

#Now what?# Marie-Ange asked. The topmost part of the image was cruder, harder to keep solid. It was harder to see the top of the supports, and the mental picture in her head kept shifting around, refusing to stay in the shape she knew the support -was-, but couldn't see clearly. #How much longer?#

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shiro, cradling someone in his arms as he flew towards the ground, and the distinctive puffs of ash and smoke that Kurt made as he teleported. #I have never done this before like this!#

#As long as it takes.#

---



Somewhere Wanda had found the energy to bolt towards where the rioters were gathering under the collapsing monorail. Exhaustion dogged her heels but she pushed on, pulling more on that stamina she had worked for years on building. At the sight of the damage, she staggered, staring up.

No time to waste, shaking herself out of it, she made herself go...there. The rioters were attempting to converge on Nathan and Bobby from the other side of where Scott was. Pushing and shoving her way through, she caught the hand of a young woman as she made to throw a bottle.

"That was not very nice," Wanda said, firmly, plucking the bottle and tossing it away. With a gentle move, she propelled the woman further back in the crowd before letting go. In the front was the only way to be. "Get back, before you cause any more damage than what is currently going on."

The leathers and the police jacket she had been wearing all day stirred the crowd, some for good, some not.

"It the mutants faults!"

"It's the humans!"

"I just want to go home..."

On occassion, Wanda was able to utilize her size and volume for some good. "I said get back!" she barked, staring down some young men that seemed to want to press forward.

Oh, this was not going the way she needed it to.

---

Roaring up to the scene, Sam blinked for a moment at the surge of activity around the monorail, which, despite the best efforts of the various team members, still occasionally creaked and shifted ominously. Flying up to the hole Shiro had melted in the top of the train, he elected to land on the roof rather than attempt to navigate his way inside the train with his blast field.

Hopping down through the hole after Shiro shot up through it, he motioned to the next people in the group slowly making their way towards that car to grab on. Taking a pair of older women, one under each arm, he gave them his best Southern gentleman smile.

"Next stop on the Kentucky Cannonball Express - solid ground," he joked before roaring up through the roof with his passengers.

---

Jubilee was only a block away when the call came in from Scott. She'd finally made it back to the first aid station with her band of weary riot police and had said goodbye to Mike, Omar and Rick . The latter two she'd seen onto the monorail for their trip out of the danger zone. She supposed it was strange to make friends in the middle of a riot, but then she'd never been particularly normal.

She took her leave of the group of police she'd been headed back out with and sprinted back toward the Monorail.

"Short Fuse here. I'm about a block out, shouldn't be long." she said, hand resting just long enough on her throat mike to be understood.

She thanked the Gods that she had chocolate left as she pulled another bar out of a pocket and started eating it as she ran.

Rounding the corner, she was met with chaos, a mass group of angry rioters closing in on Nathan, Bobby and Marie-Ange. She reminded herself to keep calm, that she wouldn't help anyone by wading in unprepared.

People hadn't noticed her yet, and she used that and her petite size to her advantage, ducking and weaving past them to get out in front and closer to her three team-mates working to keep the monorail from falling.

Pushing free finally, she directed a long burst of plasma at the ground under the feet of the rioters closest to her, knocking them flying. She quickly followed up with short bursts close to their faces, hoping to blind them. If she could keep them off balance, keep them guessing, they'd be too busy ducking to hurt her.

---



Doug had been splitting time between watching Marie-Ange like a hawk as she exerted herself, and using his power to translate for the various non-English speakers that the team had been ferrying off the monorail. Suddenly, just as he was directing a Pakistani mother where to safely take her children, he saw Marie-Ange stagger to one knee, clutching one eye as if in pain. Doug was at her side in a heartbeat, holding her. "Angie?" he asked worriedly.

"Polyphemus...no man..." she murmured disjointedly.

Doug blinked. "No man..." he repeated. Suddenly, everything shifted together with an almost audible click in his mind. "No man put my eye out...Polyphemus was a..." His head snapped up. Getting back to his feet, he turned, hand reaching for his comm. "CYCLOPS!"

---



Not enough. Where was the Guard? There weren't enough of them, and too many of the rioters, and that train was going to fall, he could sense Jean knew that, and she was the one facing it.

He had his back to it, and to her. To all of his teammates trying to evacuate the train. He was aware of the other X-Men around him, trying to help him hold the crowd back. The handful of riot police who had sailed into the fray, seeing what was happening and doing what they could.

Jean's focus seemed to be going in a dozen different directions at once. As more and more X-Men had come to help evacuate the train she'd had to divert her shields to cover all of them - they couldn't be interrupted by the rioters, no matter what. She gave Nathan as much help as she could, but she had to keep her mind open to know when the rioters were making a push to break through to him and Marie-Ange and Bobby...

Somewhere along the line, this had stopped being riot control work, Scott thought dimly, and turned into holding the line. Again. But this was different, he told himself. Not like Youra. The faces of the crowd were twisted with anger and fear, not blank. And they were civilians, men and women, some of them not much more than kids. Not trained soldiers.

The rioters were getting frustrated. They couldn't get to their most obvious targets - the man with the glowing stick, the boy who seemed to shoot ice from his hands and the others - no matter how they tried, and they couldn't understand why. Every time they tried to approach their feet would lead them astray, tangling with each other and tripping over nothing and half a dozen small fist fights had broken out over the failed attempts, and even projectiles never reached them. But their anger didn't leave, it simply lashed out, seeking new targets.

He couldn't see. He couldn't see the pattern of the crowd, how his team was deployed - he was down here in the middle of it all, drowning in it, and his aerial scouts were busy evacuating people from the train. No way to take a step back, no flexibility, just chaos...

Jean could sense the mob mind turning about, looking for an easier target, and her first thought was one of relief. Finally, a break. If they weren't striking out at Nathan and the others she could and did turn more of her concentration to helping support the train. And as her concentration shifted, she missed the moment when the crowd found it's new target.

Away from the track. If nothing else, Scott thought, they had to get the crowd away from the support structures of the track. Any more damage... He started to subvocalize orders, knowing that what he was proposing was risky, but every minute counted. Every few seconds, Kurt or one of the fliers could be taking someone off the train, and...

He didn't see the man farther back in the crowd lighting a cloth rag attached to the bottle he held. He didn't see the rag catch fire, or the man's arm come back to throw. He was turning in the other direction entirely, trying to find his closest teammate.

But he saw it in his limited peripheral vision, something bright coming at him, too fast, and whirled back in that direction, hand going up to his visor to let off a blast.

Too close. The blast hit the Molotov squarely, but at a distance of less than a foot from his head. And it exploded, the roar and the flash of light blotting out everything else in that moment.

The explosion snapped his head backwards, sent him crumbling to the ground, briefly unconscious, before he could so much as give a warning that he'd been hit over the coms.

Thankfully, Jean needed no warning. There wasn't more than the slightest flash of... not fear, concern, maybe. No warning, really, before she saw and felt the explosion on the link. Jean shrieked, whirling about to see Scott go down.

In an instant her feet left the ground as she shot over the heads over the intervening rioters, her anger and fear leaking into her powers and a nimbus of flames flickering into life around her. The explosion had knocked the nearby rioters away, so Jean had no problems landing by his side. #Scott! Scott!#

Rain. There was rain running down his face, was Scott's first dazed thought as he struggled back to consciousness. He raised a hand to try and wipe it away, but there was something that was not there, something that should have been. His visor...

#Jean... Jean, I have to see... Jean?#

His face was a mass of cuts and burns and there was so much blood and... #Of course,# she said, shoving the terror back. It took only an instant to deepen the link, giving him access to her eyes, her vision. A worried thought had her turning her head at the last second, so the first thing he saw would not be the blood.

There. The option he'd seen, summarized in a few rapid orders to the X-Men here on the ground, and they were pushing into the crowd, drawing attention away from the monorail track. Buying time. Scott pushed himself back to his feet, swaying, not noticing when Jean's perspective shifted to match. Because he could see, at the fringes of the crowd, Guard units arriving, taking the pressure off the X-Men and the police. Breaking up the crowd.

"Fall back," he muttered over the com. He couldn't hear their replies... had he lost his earpiece, as well as his visor? "Fall back, regroup..."

The crowd surrounding Scott had exulted when The Mutie had gone down, and shrunk back in terror at Jean's arrival, but when Scott stood up again there was one mind which stood out. Disappointment and the memory of a lighter and a rag. Jean's eyes narrowed, although she didn't turn her head to look, letting Scott see what he needed to see.

#Your. FAULT!# The voice in his head sounded inhuman with rage, but the man didn't have time to think about it as a sudden flash of burning pain filled his mind, the pain Jean had felt from Scott, doubled and tripled until he couldn't take it and collapsed in the middle of the crowd.

Scott swayed on his feet, holding doggedly to the images in his mind. "Fall back... protect the track," he said disjointedly. The dull roaring in his ears was strange. Didn't sound like the crowd at all, like their voices had been slowed to a crawl, like he was hearing them underwater.

The man dealt with, Jean's arms went around Scott's waist, supporting him and bringing her eyes as close inline with what he would expect to see as she could. #Your ears are ringing from the explosion,# she told him, fighting to keep her mental voice calm. #Here.# The link deepened again, what she was hearing overlaying what he couldn't.

#They're all right?# He could sense the team... not just her eyes, he was seeing with her mind, too. #They're all right...# Bobby and Nathan and Angie, free to hold up the train now that the crowd had been pushed back. The others, falling back to form a protective circle or to help, and there were emergency crews coming, the shriek of sirens growing closer.

Under control. It was almost under control, in the space of a few moments.

#They are,# she confirmed, #and the train's almost empty.#

#Have to... I have to...# He couldn't remember what he needed to do now, what came next. Why couldn't he think? The rain wouldn't stop, and he was shivering violently, sagging back against Jean.

Jean blinked rapidly, forcing the tears out so they wouldn't blur her vision. #Hospital,# she told him. #We have to get you to a hospital.#

He had to keep his eyes shut. That was the one thing that registered properly. Something had happened to his visor and he had to keep his eyes shut, and one was doing that, but the one side of his face wasn't working properly. And the rain was still running down his face.

Holding him closer, Jean lifted into the air, insisting that gravity would just ignore the two of them as she made a beeline for the nearest of the emergency crews.

---



Off. The last of the passengers were off the train, and Nathan waited, on his knees and shaking, until the last of the rescuers were clear as well. The sheer speed of the evacuation had been dazzling, but it couldn't have been fast enough for him, or the two younger X-Men. But they'd held. It had been enough.

#Let it go,# he sent to Bobby and Angie finally, so exhausted he could barely manage to project the thought. #Everyone's clear.#

No more ice appeared to support the train, and Angie's makeshift track faded away instantly. Nathan gritted his teeth and pushed, until the train was toppling off the far side of the track, in the opposite direction from the one the crowd was moving.

Encased in a quick TK bubble to keep any debris from flying, it hit the ground with a titanic crash. There were a few screams from the crowd, but only at first, until they realized that the debris was not going to reach them. The frantic babble of the rescued and the noise of the rioters and the National Guard faded away into an uneasy silence, as if everyone standing on the street had just realized what had almost happened.

The silence didn't last, of course.

But their part in this was done. The light coming from Nathan's psimitar flickered and died, and he took a deep, shaky breath, turning to check first on Bobby. But the younger X-Man, clearly distressed, had eyes only for something going on at the fringes of the crowd, near a newly arrived ambulance.

And as Nathan turned to look in that direction, he saw Jean and Scott.

---



Cain ducked around a National Guard truck, high-stepping over barricades and parked cars. The emergency call had come in, but he and Dazzler had held their ground. While their area of the riot had been pacified, she had insisted on not leaving their post until reinforcements arrived.

Five long minutes, and no reinforcements had come.

Finally, the National Guard had wheeled themselves in, and Dazzler had stopped her lightshow. Exhausted, she still managed to run alongside him before Cain simply scooped her up to make better time.

Five minutes of hearing anxious, tense comm chatter - then silence. Calls for medical attention, ambulances, Phoenix's voice cutting through, talking about pressure and bleeding and where were the m edics?

Cyclops' voice had been notably absent.

"He sounded steady the last time he-" Alison stopped in mid sentence, finally spotting what she'd been looking for as they neared their destination, Cain's forward momentum carrying them in a smooth straight line through various knots of people being escorted away from the base of the monorail's track.

The first thing Alison saw through the smoke and flashing lights were the small knots of rioters being handily separated and then escorted away by the National Guard or the police, a flash of a black leather clad figure sometimes also being a part of the action, helping to keep things under control. The second thing, as Cain started to slow down, was the ambulance - staring through the flashing lights, Alison could easily make out a ragged looking redhead bending over the form strapped in the gurney being gently eased inside. Scott's lips moved though, Alison fancied, and Jean's expression while worried and controlled showed none of the despair that a fatal wound would have elicited.

"He's going to be all right," Alison stated, looking around to assess the situation. "Jean's with him. She'll keep us updated. We need to make sure things stay under control here."

Cain turned his head, setting Dazzler down onto her feet. Nearly wiped out only seconds before, she was ready to go and take charge the instant crisis hit. Then again, the place was still louder than an amusement park in peak season, she was probably more charged than she'd been in months.

Looking around, Cain spotted all the trainees first that had been called on-site. Crowd control, medical assistance, even just carting around water to folks. The noises of the riot were fading even now as the National Guard and the Seattle police managed to divert the worst of it into open areas, what packets of violence that remained breaking up as they moved on.

Wiping his forehead, Cain pushed his goggles up to clear his eyes. From his vantage point, he did notice one small detail that may have gone unnoticed. Walking over to one of the massive concrete pylons that held up the monorail, he grasped a small sliver of red with his fingers, prying it away from the concrete.

Although he was no scientist, not by a long shot, he could recognize the ruby quartz of Cyclops' visor.

"Holy shit..." he breathed.

Attention drawn by Cain's low murmur, Alison stared in the same direction as he was, breath stopping for a moment despite the recharge of energy from the chaos surrounding them, sound pouring over and through her like a fresh wind.

"…he'll be all right," she repeated softly, taking a slow breath, the acrid smell of burnt rubber and frozen metal nearly causing her to cough. Holding her breath, she nodded once more before letting it out - and then lit up, enough to draw attention from those surrounding them, and gradually others as well. The crowd of people parted slightly, enough of an indication for her to spot the policeman who had moved away from the ambulance since Scott had been loaded in and the doors slammed shut, trying to regain control in the surrounding tumult. "Let's go. We've work to do." Cutting through the crowd, Alison strode towards the officer, one bright flash of light flaring up to gain him the attention he was obviously trying to garner.

One hand lifting, Alison glanced at Cain and then pointed at the largest area where debris was gathered, people working around it, clearly trying to get it moved fast. "Help 'em out? I'll see what's to be done here and handle that," she continued, somehow calm in the midst of it all, before turning her full attention towards the officer.