<<< We All Scream From EyeScream, (Jonny, Scott and Hank)

[Volt]

August 4th 1998
Just past Midnight

---

"Come on, Hank, look at the guy. If his head hangs any lower, he's going to trip over it when he walks. I know you want to celebrate but think about the greater good. I promise, he won't drag us down."

Famous last words, right?

Tonight was already shaping up to be a very weird night. Henry Phillip McCoy had just aced an interview with the Brand Corporation, so he had come back to the school wanting to share the good news and to take his bestest buddy out for drinks, with the promise of a steady paycheck and of course, the sap that Jon Harper was, he had convinced him to bring along the gloomy gus that was their deputy leader Scott Summers along. Poor Scott had had his heart broken when Jeannie, pretty flighty Jeannie, had at last made her choice and he had lost out to the shiny bauble that was Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third. Who wouldn't want an Angel as opposed to scrawny, boring Scott?

Well, Jon was under the opinion that there was no point in crying over spilled milk when one could instead cry in one's beer, and so the electrokinetic twenty-two year old had convinced his nearest and dearest that the charitable thing to do would be to take Scotty out into the city and get him plastered. After all, Cyke was of legal drinking age, right?

Of course, in retrospect, it probably would have been a smart thing to predict that he was a bit of a lightweight. Scott was 6'3" and weighed about a buck fifty, earning the nickname Slim they'd hung on him. Plus, he could probably count the times the boyscout had had a beer on one hand.

The trouble had started when they'd started a friendly game of pool with some hot shot who'd been trying to impress some girls. Scott, his tongue loosened by his 3rd or 4th beer, had loudly begun to mock the braggart's game, goaded by Jon's admittedly less than sober encouragement.

Scott was, after all, a ridiculously good pool player, which was a product of his innate understanding of spatial trigometrics and geometrics, and about ten minutes into the game, even the slightly unsteady young mutant had sank ball after ball, his natural caution thrown to the wind. The braggarts, embarrassed in front of his true love of the evening, had accused Scott of being a hustler, which Scott had retorted he couldn't help that he was a crappy pool player (and yes he had said crappy because even about to start a bar fight, Scott was very much a boyscout), and the braggart had thrown a punch, nearly knocking Scott's glasses off, which would have been a hell of a lot more trouble than they already were in.

Jonny now held his own pool cue out like a sword, thrust at the braggart's chest, as Scott, bracing himself up against a barstool, pushed his glasses back up over his eyes, even drunk having the self control to keep his eyes closed when they were revealed. "You wanna back it up, pal?" Jon said, "I'll Inigo Montoya your ass right back to Queens."

"You wanna do this?" the braggart said, "You aren't my problem, Hillbilly. Your buddy there's making me look bad, and I don't like to look bad."

"Then you should probably unpop that collar, Chuckles," Jonny retorted, "1987 called, they want their fashion back." He jabbed the pool cue harder into the other man's chest. "Look he's drunk and he still kicked your ass. You ain't playing for money, so let it go." He leaned forward, "Listen, the girl he's been hung up on for like years started seeing his best friend, Man, give the guy something."

The braggart rolled his eyes, "What the fuck do I care about some bitch for."

Yeah, wrong thing to say.

A pool ball, the red number 3 Jonny would remember in years to come, suddenly ricochet through the air, bouncing off the wall and then the hanging light, before clocking the braggart in the head. It was a improbably complex trajectory, and the thrower, Scott, of course, spat, "She's not a bitch!"

And then chaos erupted.

As the braggart's half a dozen friends descended on the trio of inebriated young mutants, Jonny, swinging his pool cue like a baseball bat, glanced over at Scott, "Nice going, fearless leader, forgive me if I take charge for a moment and suggest we get the hell out of here?"

[Beast]

Hank was as high as a kite before the night started, a flawless interview with a well respected cooperation, the very first foothold for his future career in science, something he figured had been lost three years ago when he lost his scholarship at Northwestern. Things were finally moving ahead for Mrs. McCoy's bouncing baby boy. Everything was just going to keep going up for him. So he wanted to celebrate naturally. Him and Jonny hitting the city, stopping at a bar or two, meeting some hotties, scoring a few numbers. Exactly what guys did in their early twenties when they were celebrating.

Or at least that was what he had planned before Jonny convinced him to bring the now 21 year old Scott 'Slim' Summers along. Hank understood entirely on why they should bring Scott along, spread some of the joy and merriment of McCoy's day to the heartbroken young man.

The night so far, was pretty nice. The X-Boys engaged in a game of pool, though Hank's mind was not entirely on the game. More so on the young librarian he met earlier on in the night at the bar, who was a shy girl before she got a few drinks in her. Occasionally he'd turn an eye to the game that Scott and Jonny were certainly more invested in than himself, impressed by Scotty's ability with a pool cue. Even with all of Hank's ability and knowledge, he was not even that good in the game.

"So I was thinking, Vera, with my new job I'll be around the city a bit more, how about next Friday after of my interview I stop on by your place and we head out to the movies?" Hank asked with an almost goofy grin as he flirted with the young Vera Cantor.

"Well Hanky that sounds wonderful but..." She said mildly intoxicated herself and seemed to stop as she watched the scene unfold with Scott, Jonny, and the frat boys. "Um Hank, those are your friends right?"

The Beast turned around to see just as Scott threw the ball at one of the men. The broad built braniac nearly brought his hand to his face. 'He did not just call Jean a 'bitch' in front of Scott...' He thought and set down his fifth or sixth bottle, given his size and mutation he was easily able to hold his alcohol a bit better than Slim Summers.

"Oh my stars and garters." Hank said as a slip of the tongue.

"What?" Vera asked not entirely catching the phrase, or understanding it.

"Don't worry it will catch on, excuse me for a moment...also you might want to get out of here." Hank added before setting his plans on further flirtation to cap off the evening perfectly to join Jonny and Scott.

"I thought you said you would keep an eye on him..." Hank whispered to Jonny from behind as the large young man eyed the group of young men a little filled on alcohol and testosterone. One coming closer to Hank than comfortable.

"Come on now, you wouldn't hit a guy with glasses?" Hank said in an almost mocking tone. Ducking out fo the way of a right hook. "Then again, I doubt you could hit a guy with glasses." With a light push of the super strong mutant he got the man away from the trio.

"I must second Jonny's proposal, Scott, every good leader knows the art of retreating." He said encouraging that they leave.

[Cyclops]

So, here was the situation. Warren and Jean were dating. That was sheer agony, and what made it the worst of all was that Scott loved them both, his best friend and his dream girl. Was it horrible to want to hate them right now? Was it wrong to want to hurt them or to have them hurt? Definitely it was. He couldn't, really, he couldn't because whose fault was this? It was his and he knew it. His and his damned powers that made it so he could never be close to anyone like that, ever. How did you love someone when you couldn't even look them in the eye?

Scott, was at this moment, drunk, or at least the drunkest he had ever been, which was really not all that drunk. He had been of legal drinking age for just about two months, drank almost never, hated being drunk right now, if he really thought about it, and was standing outside of his head wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. Jesus, a pool ball to the side of the head could do some real damage to a person. Showing off his spatial understanding could tip off someone that he wasn't just a normal guy. Putting Jonny and Hank in danger of having to reveal themselves as mutants was wrong and irresponsible.

But, he wasn't really able to stop himself right now, and maybe, he sort of didn't want to. As Jon and Hank moved to separate him from the frat boy jocks, Scott, almost wanted to fight. He was tired of guys like that (like Warren) always getting what they always wanted, doing whatever they wanted. It wasn't fair. Did these dumbasses know what he could do to them, what he kept himself from doing?

The others suggested they retreat, and Scott, in his logical mind, agreed... if he was being logical. "Why do we always have to be the better men?" he growled, as Jon and Hank pulled at him. "Why can't we... why can't we... just be what we are? Why can't we get what we want ever?"

He shook them off, and muttered, "What does it matter, right? What does it ever matter?"

He turned away, "Fine, let's go..."

"Hey, who said we were done here?" snapped the braggart, sporting a growing welt on the side of his face.

Jon looked back at the guy, "Pal, you really don't want to push it, you really don't."

"And why the fuck not?" the guy said, "You really think the three of you can take me and my boys? A hick, a stick and I don't even know what the fuck poindexter there is."

Jon smiled, sloppily, "Yeah, we totally could, actually, but we won't because like my young and inebriated leader here said, we are the better men."

"Leader?" the braggart smirked, "The fuck are you? Boyscouts?"

Scott turned back and said, "Yeah, I'm a boyscout." He narrowed his eyes and he lifted his glasses, a single careful and perfectly aimed beam of scarlet slammed out, and severed the chain holding the hanging light, sending it crashing down on the bully's head.

He turned to the others, "Now, let's go..." He put his hand to his mouth, trying to keep himself from throwing up, shocked at what the hell he had just did.

[Beast]

Intoxication often lead to a reduced set of inhibitions. Normally Hank might think a loosening of inhibition on the rather stern Scott Summers would have been a good thing, especially for someone as 'uptight' as Scott could be at times. However, Beast was actually beginning to lament such thoughts about loosening up the orderly leader of the X-Men.

Oh how he lamented it.

He heard Scott muttering something about how they always seemed to fall behind in the rat race of life. How the good men finished last basically, Hank knew the quarrel quite well on a personal level considering he was the misshapen nerd most of his life, and the moment he finally started getting life in order towards the end of high school and starting of University. Then he was exposed as a mutant, and lost it all. The professor changed that for him, and now he was a college graduate, and on his way to getting his dream job.

Hank put his large hand on Scott's shoulder. "It's because we are the better men Scott, it is who we are." He muttered softly to his younger red shaded friend. Eloquent even when inebriated, no wonder he was the one with a doctorate despite only being 23. His hand removed from Slim's shoulder as he shook him and Jonny off. Hank did not entirely calculate how effected Scott has been by the situation with Warren and Jean, it kind of made him feel bad for the guy.

Hank was just about ready to walk off with the two other X-Men, up until he heard the man call them out. He sighed, rather loudly. 'So close.' He thought, doing his best to ignore the poindexter comment. He did not say anything, knowing Scott would be the better man.

Then the lamp came down on the frat boy's head. Behind the glasses, his eyes widened to the point they nearly popped out of his head. "Oh my stars and garters..." He muttered softly, surprised by Scott's actions all of the sudden.

"Right, it would be most prudent for us to leave...now." Hank stated most urgently as he patted Scott lightly on the back before he nearly started to push the two other mutant men out of the bar to hopefully avoid a larger disturbance in the evening.

[Volt]

Jonny had not expected that, really. He was pretty damn shocked by Scotty's actions and his words. He wondered if the Angel and the Marvel knew what they had done to their leader man... well, maybe the liquor had a lot to do with it too. This was incredible to watch and it made him realize exactly why Scott was the guy he was. That single beam of scarlet, a power that more than once in the Danger Room (a name he absolutely adored by the way) he'd gotten a glancing blow of, could have brought the roof down on these chumps. He could have killed them, but for a guy with no conscious control of his powers, he was so damned controlled.

Hank offered some sage words of advice and Jonny smiled. Things were never going to change, sure, but was that a bad thing? Maybe there seemed to be no hope right now, but hey, girls were pretty crazy things and if Jeannie never realized that Scotty was so damn in love with her that it was killing him, well, her loss, right? Try telling him that right now, nope, well, all you'd get out of that was your own perfectly aimed punch from the punch dimension.

As the stunned crowd realized what had just happened, and from the stricken look on the normally impassive Scott Summers's face he'd just realized it too, Hank began to push them towards the door, and Jon did not protest. "I am totally in agreement with you, my big footed booby."

"Freaks!" someone said, suddenly, "They're fuckin' whatchacallums!"

Jonny thrust Scott towards Hank and said, "Get him out of here before he pukes."

"M'not goin' t' puke," Scott mumbled, "An' it's mutants, you piece of crap!"

As Hank pushed Scott out, Jonny turned back to the crowd staring at them in shock, and awe, and not a little bit of hatred. "What did your fucking freak friend just say?"

Jonny smiled, broadly, "He said you were all pieces of crap." Extending his hand, he reached out and used his powers to pull the electricity out of the walls of the bar. The lights flickered, the music wobbled, even the video games along the wall darkened. Putting his other hand to his mouth, he said, "Or did you mean the part about us being mutants?"

He exploded the lightning back into the wires and circuits and in the air itself, too much too fast too far, and the lights overhead burst, sending the crowd into a screaming panic. "We've had a lovely time! Good night!"

Then he turned and broke into a run, skidding out of the bar, into the street. "It's time we took our leave, my friends. Scotty, you up to running?"

Scott looked at him, and somehow, even behind his glasses, he gave them impression of wide eyed alarm, "Jon, what'd you do?"

Jonny smirked, and then as the sound of siren filled the distant streets, he said, "I forgot I was s'posed to be the better man."

[Beast]

"Oh heavens to Betsy." Hank muttered with a sigh as he continued to assist the young Scott towards the door, despite the continued confrontation between his fellow mutants and the ignorant homo sapiens. "Lord knows if we actually called these ignoramuses by their scientific classifications they would just as soon defend their sexual orientation Scott. No need to attempt to educate men like these." The bestial sized young man in glasses explained as he continued to usher the crimson eyed leader of the X-Men.

Nearing the door, Hank took one last look at his best friend who was staying behind. 'Dear lord Jonny, do not get us thrown in jail whatever you do.' He thought, giving the electrokinetic a stern look before getting Scott entirely out of the bar.

The large handed mutant patted Scott on the back as he started to lead the fearless mutant. "You going to be okay?" He asked concerned about Scott's well being, both with the alcohol and emotionally. It was not everyday to see Slim Summers behave like this, so of course Hank was somewhat worried about his younger mutant team mate.

Then Jonny sped out of the bar in a rather hurried rush. Hank nearly cursed nearly knowing immediately what Jon had done on this rather 'exciting' night. "Jon Harper I swear by my size 13 shoes, you will-" Hank was then cut off by the sound of nearing sirens.

He shook his head. Between the sirens and the possible crowd that was going to be coming out of the bar with torches and pitchforks there was only one option.

"Gentlemen, I believe it is time to cue the Benny Hill music." He stated and would be prepared to run away as fast he could go without leaving his comrades behind.

He was almost hoping that this night would be over after this. How wrong he would be.

[Volt]

The trio of young, fit and fairly inebriated mutants ran, as fast as they could, though it was not necessarily a very stable run. If this had been some sort of supervillain threat, even drunk they might have stood their ground, and used the skills they'd been honing for as long as five years to end this conflict expediently, albeit, likely with a high degree of collateral damage. Jonny had been through this sort of thing before, there wasn't much to do in Mechanicsville but cause a ruckus. This was like being home again, and it had been a god awful long time since he'd been home. At this moment this superhero stuff was out of his head, this mutant stuff was. Jonny was enjoying it, and he wasn't going to deny it, even if he was positive that when they got back the Professor was completely going to mentally bitch slap them all.

"This way!" Jonny said, "Come on, gents, follow me."

He lead them down an alley way, pulling them down behind a trashcan, only a few moments before a police car swept by the alley, shining a light over their heads. As the car shot off, Jonny rested his head back against the wall, and started laughing. "Whoo! That was pure awesome, my genetically enhanced brethren!"

"No, it wasn't," muttered Scott, as he rose up from their hiding place, a bit wobbly, but tall, "It was stupid. I shouldn't have..."

"No, you shouldn't have," Jonny smirked, "But, you did, and you needed to. When's the last time you ever did something irresponsible like that?"

"I never did anything like that,' Scott grumbled, and he closed his eyes as tight as he could, and pushed his glasses up on his forehead, driving the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He let out a growl of frustration and anger, and he snarled, "This isn't what I want to be, dammit."

"What do you want to be?" Jonny looked over at him, "Slim, what do you want to be?"

Scott lowered his glasses over his dangerous, lethal eyes and he glanced at Jon, "I want to be whatever the hell it is she sees in him..."

Jon reached over and clapped his younger friend on the shoulder, "You can't be Warren, Slim... You can only be Scott. Maybe once you figure that Scott's not so bad, so will she."

Rolling his head towards Jon, Scott said, "Jesus, Harper, have you been watching Oprah?"

"There's more than the History Channel, Summers," Jon snickered. "Am I right, Hanky Pank?"

After a quiet moment, Scott said, "They're launching a sister channel solely for military programs next year, you know?"

"You are a dork," Jonny chuckled.

Scott sighed, "Yeah, that's the problem." Suddenly a scream cut through the night, and Scott gasped, "What's that?"

"It's what's going to keep us from talking about our feelings all night like pussies," Jonny said, "Come on!" he broke into a run.

Falling into a run beside Jon, Scott said, "I watch shows about war, you watch shows on women's issues. Who has problems here?"

[Beast]

"The Professor picked you to be the leader for a reason Scott." Hank added to the conversation as they slowed down for a moment as the bar mob seemed to have faded into the distance with the sound of the police sirens. "Jonny and myself saw it back then and we see it now. You're not Warren, and that's a good thing quite honestly Scott. If she can't see that well..." He was going to say it was her loss, but well Hank saw what Scott did to the last guy who insulted Jean, then again it was not much of an insult. He just figured he was best to just leave it at that.

"The History Channel is not too bad Jon. Balance it out with Discovery, and throw in the occasional comedy and News cast and you have a very well balanced diet of couch potatoism." McCoy smirked.

The smirk turned into a look of worry as his ears perked up to the sound of the scream. "Let's get moving. I think it was coming from this way." Hank said and started to follow his ears towards the sound, moving just as fast as if they were running from something, certain the other two were with him. Inebriated or not, they were X-Men, and X-Men were heroes.

Soon he came upon something odd. A puddle of some sort of liquid on the ground next to a small bank. Always had to be with the banks didn't that. He didn't see a woman though, and no apparent ways of breaking into the bank that he saw. The puddle however...it was not a normal color. Creamy pink color. He stuck his larger finger into it to bring it closer to his eyes and the street lamp. He knew he saw this before. "Guys...this is weird...and cold." Hank muttered examining the liquid, even sniffing it. Then he probably did something that would potentially disgust the other two. He tasted it.

The oddest expression and then relief came on his face. "Ice cream...strawberry ice cream." Hank muttered before wiping the rest off onto his pants. "No cone, no people...just ice cream on the ground...in front of a bank." He stated pointing out some obvious things to the other two.

"So Sherlocks, care to help me deduce what happened here?" Beast asked the two as he began to take his glasses off but stopped and put them back on. "Is it just me or does it look like this leads right to the door?" He asked slightly surprised his finger point the path of liquefied ice cream going straight to the door of the bank.

[Cyclops]

"Why the hell would you taste strawberry ice cream off the ground?!" Jonny gasped, "I mean chocolate I could understand..."

"Volt, stop the chatter," Scott said, and though he was still more than a little drunk, his adrenaline had kicked in, and more importantly, his innate Cyclops-ness had as well. This was what he knew. This sort of clear sign of not only trouble, but faintly weird trouble was something that for these young men, who had by that time been actively donning masks and matching uniforms of black and yellow for three years, was very very familiar with. They'd fought a man who could move metal with his mind, they'd seen a city under the earth, they had been superheroes. "Beast, make a sweep around the building, see if you can find any signs of entry, or anymore ice cream."

"You think that this ice cream has something to do with a bank robbery?" Volt frowned. "You still drunk?"

Scott turned his head slowly towards Jon and gave him a baleful glare that could be felt rather than seen, but considering his powers, Jon knew he was lucky enough that those glasses stayed down. "Yes, I am still drunk," Scott said, "That doesn't mean that they aren't connected." Closing his eyes, he ducked his head and removed his glasses, pulling his visor out from an inside coat pocket specifically built for it.

"Jesus, Slim, you brought your visor on a Boy's Night Out?" Jon shook his head. "You really are a dork."

Cyclops nodded, "I know." Another scream came from the bank, and Scott said, "A dork who is going to go save someone's life. Come on, you and me are going for the door until Hank gets back. If we need to get in, we might need you to fry the key swipe on the door lock."

Jon looked at him for a moment... a long quiet moment.

With a frown, Scott finally said, "What?"

"This," Jon said, "This is who you're supposed to be."

Cyclops turned his face to the back and said, "Unfortunately this doesn't impress Jean."

Smiling brightly, Jon said, "Well, it impresses me."

[Beast]

"I happen to like strawberry." Hank countered before Scott told them to stop the chatter and the Beast immediately noticed him going into fearless leader mode despite the inebriation levels. The poise, and natural leader potential, that was why Scott was the guy in charge. No matter what the situation was, he was prepared, and could come up with a plan for it. Despite all his intelligence, it was a feat that Hank often questioned if he could ever truly be capable of. It was certainly something admirable.

Beast nodded to Cyclops as he gave the order for him to do a quick recon sweep of around the building and see if there. Though Jonny seemed to protest the idea. "Jon, this is the dawn of mutation, expect the unexpected and believe that even the perspective of reality can be changed." Hank said with a smile before with a grand old leap he moved up onto the building.

This was the Beast's zone of play, recon and acrobatics. Yes he was the most physically imposing member of the X-Men at the moment, but there were already so many Goliath sized mutants with matching muscles that McCoy was plenty fine of using his large feet and hands combined with his natural athleticism to hop about the roof looking for any clues, even moving around the building and checking out others along the way.

Finally he found a window. An open window. An open window that looked like it had Neapolitan ice cream running up and into it and back out as mint. "Inconceivable." Henry McCoy muttered. Rather than yelling to get Scott and Jonny's attention, but it may have warned the burglar. Just as he was about to bolt to the two of them he heard a cat hiss and then get cut off midway through. Then the sound of a trashcan getting knocked over.

He instead pulled out his cellphone and quickly dialed Jon's number. Moment Jonny hopefully picked up. And he did. "Can't talk. Spot the guy, he's heading down the alley's that open up to 23rd street, you guys cut him off. I'll come up right behind him." Beast said rather fast and in a hush tone. "Hurry up." Then he hung up rather quickly before the large sized shoes ran like the football star he was and started to move down the alley.