Title: Land of the Free, Home of the Brave
Author: queenB
Email: planitclare@yahoo.com
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: The X-Men don't belong to me and are property of Marvel Entertainment Group. No money is being made from this endeavor... yadda, yadda, yadda.

Continuity: X-Men Movie Universe. Set after the events in the movie with flashbacks from before.

Characters: The whole team.

Summary: The prodigal son returns. Warren Worthington, one of Xavier's original students finds himself back at Xavier's School.

Archiving: Archive only with my permission.

Feedback: Yes, please! Comments are adored, cherished and drooled over at planitclare@yahoo.com

*   *   *
"Land of the Free, Home of the Brave"
Part Three
by queenB
 

Warren splashed cold water on his face as he stared hard into his reflection in the mirror. He had been called a handsome man and over the years with a boyish face, a head of wavy, blonde hair that always seemed to fall into his eyes at just the right moments, and eyes as blue as a clear sky. But he was paying his good looks no heed as he
examined his bruised cheek that was fading into a sickly green. No, at the moment all he saw was fortune mocking him. He thought he could do some good in this world by standing up for mutant rights in the private sector. What good was sabotage if you were dead before you could finish the job? Why would anyone listen to him now that they all suspected that he himself was a mutant? He definitely had his work cut out for him.

As he basked in his self-pity, he hardly noticed the knock at the door. A towel slung around his waist, he muttered
absently. "Come on in, Jean. It's open."

He looked again in the mirror to see Scott staring at him, a smirk on his face. "It's not Jean."

Smiling, Warren gathered his clothes and toiletries. "I'm sorry. I was expecting it to be her. She mentioned something about some more tests today."

Warren closed the bathroom door to a crack and got dressed, struggling with both his wings and his cast in the cramped space as Scott spoke from the bedroom. "She'll want to see you later. Though I'm sure she'll be sorry she missed the show."

Warren poked his head out the door. "What?"

Sitting on the bed, Scott chuckled. "You parading around in just a towel, of course."

He laughed as he ducked back behind the door. "I'm just a little distracted this morning, Scott. Besides, if I had wanted to muscle in on your girl... you wouldn't stand a chance."

As he opened the door, Scott laughed sharply. "You haven't changed at all."

Warren smiled. "It's good to see you, Scott."

Scott nodded. "And you, too."

Fastening the last of the buttons on his shirt, Warren asked, "So what's up, Slim?"

Scott smiled. "It's been a long time since anyone called me that."

"What do they call you nowadays? Beefcake? Stud-muffin? Hunka-hunka-burning-love?"

Scott snorted as he stood up from the bed and Warren grinned. "Oh, you know you'll always be that gangly little
kid who barely had the sense to come out of the rain to me, Scott."

"I've done a lot of growing up since then."

He smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. "We both have. So what did you need?"

"I wanted to show you something."

Warren nodded and followed Scott out of the room and down to the lower levels where he soon found himself led into
the bowels of the sub-basement. In front of him, Scott keyed a password into a locking mechanism and he motioned for him to enter. Inside, the walls were filled with blinking lights and computer monitors. On one side of the room was a thick sheet of glass and below he saw a large, metal-walled room. It was just as he remembered it from two years ago... just as cold and daunting.

He took a chair as he looked up with questioning eyes at his friend, but he ignored him and took a seat at the
control panel, addressing the group of students gathered on the floor below. "Okay, kids. Here we go. Nice and easy...
from the top."

In the seat next to him, a rough voice said, "It's a beauty, ain't it? We call it the Danger Room."

Warren frowned. "The Danger Room? Yes, I would say it is that."

"These folks are just heapin' over with creative names, eh?"

Warren shook his head and tried to ignore the man as he watched Scott enter a sequence of commands on the keyboard. But he didn't get a chance.

"My name's Logan, by the way. Saved yer life back in that alleyway."

He extended his hand, "Nice to meet you, Logan..."

The man grinned a feral smile. "Just Logan."

Warren raised an eyebrow. "Okay... I owe you a debt of gratitude. Jean told me if it wasn't for your treatment I
might have lost a critical amount of blood."

"Don't mention it. Just doing my job."

Logan then turned his attention to the monitor and wheeled his chair up to another keyboard where he entered his own
sequence. Warren then watched as the students worked through their obstacles.

Samuel Guthrie flew at high velocity around the upper levels of the room, crushing attack robots with his blast-shield, roaring like a high-powered cannonball. While on the floor below, Piotr Rasputin glistened like quicksilver... using his power to turn to organic steel and pulverize projectiles before they had a chance to make impact. Katherine Pryde glimmered like a ghost, phasing through the circuitry of a wall of robotic drones while Jubilation Lee fired pyrotechnics from her fingertips and Bobby Drake froze them to the spot.

They moved like a well-oiled machine, anticipating each other's movements as the difficulty increased, worked as a
team to conquer one level than the next. And while their determination was evident, there was a sense of camaraderie among them. They were in this together... fighting toward a common goal and never giving too much or too little. They
knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. They knew when to back off and when to give it their all. They were a
team. They were family. And seeing their precision took Warren's breath away.

When the exercise was finished, Scott congratulated them on a job well done and Logan excused himself while Warren simply shook his head. As Scott flipped off several switches, he asked Warren, "So what did you see down there?"

"Honestly, I was expecting a bunch of mindless soldiers."

"But?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain."

"How so?"

Warren pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. "I guess in seeing them... I suddenly felt very lonely."

Scott sat next to him as Warren continued. "I mean I've seen the blue prints... what the government has planned for mutant-kind if the Secretary of Defense has his way. But these kids... I think that if it comes to pass, they can
handle it. You've done your job well in training them. But I know these students, too. And they're good souls... but
they're still just kids. It's right they should be able to defend themselves... it's just..."

Staring at him with those ruby-guarded lenses, Scott pushed the matter. "It's just what?"

He continued to look out at the floor even though the students had filed out long before. "It's just so scary that they should have to."

Scott smiled. "That's where people like you come in, Warren. We're just training them to be their own last line of defense."

Nodding, Warren got to his feet to get a better look at the exercise area of the Danger Room. It was completely empty
now. All evidence of the battle had been absorbed back into the walls. Behind him, he heard Scott's voice. "And you don't have to be alone, Warren."

Shaking his head, Warren said with a grin. "You know I won't come back."

Scott smiled. "I know. The Professor wants to talk to you... about something new."

*   *   *

"Warren, please sit down."

As Warren walked into Xavier's office the Professor sat with a cheery expression on his face, motioning to a chair in front of him. Nodding and returning his smile, Warren took the offered seat, its back the perfect height for his wings to easily drape over. As he looked around the room, he realized it looked exactly the same as it did the last time he was here. Not a solitary paper was out of place and every trinket and knickknack was exactly where he remembered it. He could even swear the same homework assignment on elementary particle physics was written on the board.

Xavier maneuvered his wheelchair around the large desk and poured himself a cup of tea from a side table. "Tea?"

"No. I'm fine, thank you."

Settling back at his desk with his cup and saucer, Xavier drew a deep sigh and then looked appraisingly at his former
pupil. "Jean says you've recovered well. That you're ready to leave us."

Warren nodded. "Except for the arm, I have a clean bill of health. But I'll be back in a few weeks for another check
up."

"Good. Good. It's good to see you again, Warren."

"You too, Professor. I didn't realize how much I missed this place until I came back."

Tilting his head as he folded his hands in his lap, Xavier mused, "It does tend to have a hold on people."

Warren heard the sound of children playing on the lawn outside the walls of Xavier's study and he found it familiar and almost comforting. "Yes. But you know what they say... You can't go home again."

Staring over Warren's shoulder and out the window, Xavier said absently. "No. I suppose not."

Xavier stirred his tea and then set the spoon gently on his saucer. "I suppose it was wrong of me not to visit with you
sooner. But I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings still between us."

Grinning, Warren said, "So you let Jean, Scott and Ororo do your dirty work instead."

Pursing his lips, Xavier said, "Now, Warren..."

Warren cut him short. "No. No. I understand, Professor. You were just being tactful."

Xavier's expression grew pensive. "I'm sure you're wondering why we haven't pushed you to rejoin us."

Leaning forward in his seat, Warren said, "Yes, I am. I thought I'd get a recruitment speech as soon as I was back
on my feet."

"You've made your intentions clear to all of us. There's no need to expend ourselves fruitlessly."

"I appreciate the gesture."

Leaning back in his chair and pressing his palms together, Xavier paused a moment before he spoke, his words deliberate and evenly paced. "I believe Scott has told you I wanted your help with something?"

Nodding, Warren relaxed into his chair. "He was rather vague about it... but yes, he did."

Xavier smiled. "He was vague for a reason. This is something he knows very little about... even as my second
in command."

His curiosity piqued, Warren asked, "Just what is this special project, Charles?"

"I want you to be a part of my mutant underground."

Yes. His curiosity was definitely piqued. Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Explain."

"I've spoken with some other mutants in the international community. People like yourselves who take a less militant
stance and fight for genetic equality quietly in their business and legal proceedings. As you may know, Jean had been attending congressional hearings on the MRA, the Mutant Registration Act. And while the MRA has been tabled in the Senate for the time being and Jean has stepped back from the limelight to once again become active with her training and the team... she attracted a great deal of attention with sympathizers. And while her affiliation with the Xavier Institute is not widely known, there were many mutants who were interested in helping the cause."

Narrowing his eyes, Warren asked, "So where do I come in?"

"I've been in contact with a telepath in London by the name of Elizabeth Braddock. She is self-taught and I happened
across her presence on the astral plane many months ago. We've been communicating in secret, establishing the layout for an underground movement. A means to protect and shelter mutants who do not need or want the tutelage the School provides."

Taking another sip from his cup, the Professor continued as he studied Warren's reaction intently. "We thought it would be best to operate in smaller groups... or resistance cells as Betsy likes to call them. Each member of the underground only communicates with one or two other members. That way if a genetic war does surface and members are interrogated there is no way the identities or structure of other cells will be divulged."

Deciding that he did indeed want a cup of tea, Warren stood and poured himself a cup as he listened to Xavier's words
intently. "Sounds ingenious."

Nodding his head, Xavier said, "Ms. Braddock is a very ingenious woman. But we've decided with my involvement with the School, it would be best if I were to withdraw from the underground in case either were compromised."

Sitting back in his chair, Warren took a sip from his cup. It was Darjeeling. Somehow he has expected Earl Grey. It
seems things had changed, if only a little, in Charles Xavier's study. "Makes sense."

"Now this is where you come in. When I step back, we'll need a replacement as a cell leader for the Northeastern
United States."

He set his cup on the desk. "But with my current trouble with the government, I might not be the best decision. I'll
be under close scrutiny."

Xavier shook his head. "You're the perfect choice, Warren. The underground works two-fold and there are many unseen
pieces as work. If you join, you will be protected from prying eyes. And your insight and knowledge will be extraordinarily valuable. Truth be told, we have been watching you for some time. We need someone like you... with your power in the corporate sector."

Releasing a deep sigh and massaging his temples, Warren remained silent as Xavier watched him intently. It all
seemed too perfect... help in continuing his struggles with the government and an organization to continue his work if
he failed. It seemed the answer to his prayers. And while he mulled Xavier's words over in his mind, his heart told
him it was the right thing to do... perhaps what he was destined for the entire time he was under the Professor's
roof. Without a further thought, he said, "I'll do it."

Xavier's satisfaction evident, he smiled, "Good. Someone will be contacting you in the next week or so."

Warren raised an eyebrow. "So that's it then? No secret handshakes... no midnight inductions along the Hudson?"

Wearing a grin, Xavier chuckled. "No. I'm afraid not... but if you would like to make up some rituals, I'm sure they
would be open to suggestion."

Getting to his feet and preparing to leave, Warren said with a smile. "I'll keep that in mind. And thank you, Professor."

"No, Warren, thank you."

As he turned his back to Xavier and opened the door, he heard the Professor clear his throat. As he looked over his
shoulder at him, Xavier said with a cordial gleam in his eyes. "I'm so very proud of you."

He smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

And as he shut the door behind him and made his way through the house to say his good-byes, he realized just how much those words meant to him... how much the entire visit, though under discomforting circumstances, meant to him. It was good to come home if only for a little while.

"Leaving so quickly?"

Warren looked up to see Ororo standing on the large staircase in the main foyer, one of her delicate hands resting on the ballast as she smirked at him, her brown eyes twinkling merrily.

He smiled. "I didn't forget, 'Ro."

Winking, she returned his smile, her face more radiant and serene than he remembered. "I should hope not."

Reaching up to take her hand, he pulled her close and the two raced out the front door. Warren felt a strong micro-
burst of wind as their feet hit the green, well-manicured lawn and suddenly the ground sped away from them, as they
were propelled upward by Storm's manipulation of pressure and air currents.

As his great wings unfurled from his back, he extended them far above his head and brought them down in one fluid
motion, pushing them higher into the sky as the wind billowed through their clothes. Holding tight onto Ororo's hand, he whooped with delight as he took them into a tight turn and smiled to himself as she laughed enthusiastically.

Orbiting the perimeter of the school, Warren then took her in his arms and carried her in a slow, even flight pattern
while she used her powers to keep the air currents even and buoyant. As her hair whipped about her face, he smiled at
her. "I've missed this so much. It's so nice to not have to hide my gifts from prying eyes. I feel so free."

She stretched a hand out in front of her, slicing through the wind sheer with a playful wiggle of her fingers. "So
this means you will come back to visit?"

"Yes. If you'll come flying with me every time."

Looking up at him, her expression suddenly very serious, she said, "I will always be here for you, Warren. You will
always be my friend."

He drew a deep breath as she turned her face away and looked out over the school grounds. "Thank you, Ororo. I'm
glad you've let us start over."

Her voice cool but amicable, she said serenely, "We may have stopped being lovers, Angel. But we will never stop
being friends. There is too much at stake to forget one another."

"I could never forget you, 'Ro. Never."

Turning her head once more to smirk at him, she said mirthfully, "Good. Because I would not have let you."

He laughed as he held her tight and spun through the clouds. Regardless of her words in the garden a few days
before, he would always think of her as his beauty, his goddess. He would simply have to worship her from afar with his memories and his friendship. And that suited him just fine... at least she was in his life again and that was the
greatest blessing of all.

*   *   *

Warren Worthington III stood at the window in his office at Worthington Enterprises, watching the hustle and bustle of New York City on the street below. It had been one month since he returned from the Xavier Institute, three weeks
since he received a visit from a member of the underground and two since the allegations against him were silenced.
The underground made good on Xavier's promise of protection and now he was back at work and as busy as ever.

He had only met one member of the movement in the flesh, a NYPD detective by the name of Sean Cassidy. He could tell from his accent that he was of Irish birth, but he knew little else of the man save his devotion to the equality
between mutants and humans. Their meetings had been brief but informative and Warren was left both pleased and
hopeful.

During the last few weeks, he also had the fortune of encountering the woman Xavier had mentioned to him, Elizabeth Braddock... though their meetings were of a less reassuring nature. A telepath with power almost to rival Xavier himself, she, with the Professor's tutelage, had constructed her own version of Cerebro and used it not only to locate mutants under threat but to communicate with select members of the underground. When she had first contacted him, he had found the experience jarring and more than a little unnerving. But he found himself getting used to the experience and was almost looking forward to their weekly meetings. She was proving to be more fascinating than Xavier had let on. Her lilting, telepathic voice seemed filled with both sincerity and amusement at all times and he found himself wondering if she was as beautiful as she sounded.

As his thoughts drifted, he was snapped from his reverie by a knock on his door. It was Candace Southern, his
assistant. "Mr. Worthington? You have a visitor... a Mr. Summers."

Warren smiled. "Please. Send him in."

As Scott entered the office, Warren extended his hand. "Scott, so good to see you. Can I get you anything? Coffee?
Tea?"

His friend shook his head. "No. No, I'm fine."

"I didn't expect to see you so soon." He gestured to his arm, still in a sling. "I was planning on visiting Jean
tomorrow for a check up."

Scott grinned as he stood in the middle of Warren's large office, the sunlight glinting off his glasses. "I know. But
this couldn't wait."

His expression growing concerned, Warren gestured to one of the chairs in the office's sitting area. "Please, sit down."

His grin cracking into a large smile, Scott shook his head. "No... I'm too excited to sit."

Warren chuckled as he watched his friend pace in front of him. He has so much nervous energy he looked like he was
going to explode. He had never seen Scott like this and couldn't help but be amused as his usually reserved and even withdrawn exterior was completely shed. "Well, what is it? Out with it, Scott. You're making me nervous!"

Releasing a deep sigh, Scott stood in front of Warren and said with an almost coy smirk, "We've set a date."

Warren raised an eyebrow. "You and Jean?"

Scott nodded and Warren shook his head. "Well, it's about time!"

"That's what she said."

Folding his arms over his chest, Warren clicked his tongue against his teeth as he studied Scott. "So let's hear the
details, then."

"Actually, there was one detail that I specifically came here to ask you about."

Leaning against his desk, Warren said, "Whatever you need, Slim."

"I want you to be my best man."

Warren's eyes grew wide in surprise and joy. Here he was expecting Scott to ask him for use of one of his family's resort properties for their honeymoon and here he was... asking him to stand by his side when he and Jean started
their life together. After all the harsh words and cold shoulders exchanged between them in the last two years he hadn't expected this of all things. He didn't know what to say.

Scott furrowed his brow as he watched Warren's reaction. "Warren? You will do it, won't you?"

A huge smile forming on his face, Warren clapped Scott on the back as he held him in a short, friendly embrace. "Of
course I will. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Shaking Warren's hand, Scott said happily, "Good. It'll mean so much to me. To both of us."

Releasing a sigh, Warren leaned on the desk again and shook his head as he studied Scott. He had always known he and Jean were meant for each other but it still startled him that the day they were to be married was actually in view.
He was so happy for him, for both of them. They both deserved happiness and were sure to find it in one another.

Scott lightly punched his good arm and said quickly, "Well, I have to run. Jean is waiting for me downstairs. We have
an appointment with a caterer in twenty minutes."

"Sounds fun. So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing... I'll give you all the details. It's going to be next month on the seventeenth, so keep your calendar
clear, okay?"

"Can't wait."

As Warren walked Scott to the door, his friend mused, "You do know it's your job to throw me a bachelor party?"

A mockingly evil twinkle in his eye, Warren said, "Oh, yes. I'm aware of that particularly dirty detail."

Scott said in almost a whisper. "Well, Jean did want me to suggest something low-key. I believe she grumbled something about no strippers."

Patting him on the back before he shut the door behind him, Warren said with a grin, "Don't worry, buddy. I'll keep you
out of trouble."

But as he wandered back to his desk, he spoke under his breath, "Yes... completely out of trouble."

He pressed a few buttons on his phone and said to the operator on the other end of the receiver, knowing it was his sworn duty as a best man to break his promise to Scott and give him a night to live in infamy for the rest of his
life. "Yes, I'm looking for the number for a 'Flash Dancers'?"

And as the operator connected him to the club, his only hope was that Jean would have mercy on his soul.

*End*