Iceman

After dispatching his former friend Jack Brown and leaving him in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, Bobby Drake was left to his own dark reflections, unaware of the fate soon to meet the comatose Grizzly and Gibbon...

Prologue:
Brooklyn, New York.

Hunh.

So there really is a part of New York where Main Street and Main Street intersect each-other. That Kramer character from Seinfeld was right when he said this place was like the nexus of the universe or whatever.

It makes all the sense in the world with what this city's been through lately, too.

Right now, I'm standing on the roof top of a little cafe that's overlooking said interaction, seeing the world behind my tinted Oakleys. The blue shaded world is a nice contrast to how my life's been going lately.

Everything's just so dark lately, especially for my tastes. Steadily, I inhale a the cold evening's air as I close my eyes as I feel the rain suddenly begin to beat down on me.

When I was younger, I used to hate the rain with this weird undying passion. It was like I'd just mope around my house stomping my foot and sighing out of the frustration of it all, sure to keep an eye on the window in case it died down.

My Mom was real paranoid about me catching cold, so she wouldn't let me out very often. Kinda ironic now that I think about it. I guess another ironic thing is now that I'm an adult (another scary thought for sure), I'm actually starting to like the rain.

Even appreciate it...

The way it feels pattering down on me at first, then slowly begins to soak my hair and my clothes. After a while, I can't even feel the rain patter down onto me. It's surprisingly soothing to just let myself get drenched by the cold drops of moisture.

Almost like I was missing something... and now I've found it. Or then again, maybe that's just the depression making me feel all poetic inside. Hey, the rest of the X-Men are allowed their moments, right?

I've been in a pretty big rut as of late with everything going on. It's like, you can tell yourself that you're not going to let things get to you, and that you're NOT going to get dragged back into your old life. But how many times does that actually work out?

In case you didn't get the hint, I'm Bobby Drake, and as the world turns amidst this fine rainy day, I find myself out on what could be a wild goose chase. You can believe me when I say it comes with the territory, and when I say this is shaping up to be an interesting past couple of months...

Two days ago...
Brooklyn General Hospital.

"Doctor Jehnson, look I..." Cecilia started to say, but trailed off. Jehnson looked up to her, his lips curling up to the side of his cheek.

Before she could continue, a woman's horrific scream came from the room behind them, followed by the sound of gunshots and another painful cry, catching the attention of everyone in the infirmary hall.

Jehnson and Reyes wanted to move to investigate, but were both frozen in their tracks as silence grew between them and everyone on the floor.

"Call the police and get security up here!" Jehnson suddenly shouted down the hall to Marcy, who's head was peaking out from her seat at the receptionist's desk, and she nodded as she reached for the phone.

One of the police officer's had screamed, and those outside could hear the struggle ensuing from outside the room.

Instincts had taken over from her short time with the X-Men, and she realized despite throwing in the towel as a mutant activist, she was a lot braver then she used to know. When Cecilia busted into the room however, even she was horrified at what she saw.

Blood spattered against the white washed wall behind the detective and another police officer she had spoke with just moments ago, and down the redheaded nurse slid convulsing in agonizing pain.

Gunfire followed suit from the police as they crouched behind a fallen gurney, and at the corner of her eye Cecilia Reyes saw one of the coma patients standing with his hands soaked in crimson blood, awake and in a heated rage.

The bullets whizzed by Martin Blank, otherwise known as the Gibbon, as he moved at inhuman speeds over and above them in a blur, and came crashing down towards the trio of police officers with claw-like fingernails ready to strike.

"No!" Cecilia shouted as she darted in front of the three as the two police officers tried to move out of the way of Gibbon's attack, but they wouldn't have made in time anyway.

Gibbon's claws came straight down over Cecilia Reyes, and she flinched her head back as she threw up her hands, erecting an ectoplasmic forcefield to protect them from the fierce rage just in time.

Before Martin Blank realized the rage he had entered, and what he was actually doing, the tangible brown forcefield shot outwards from Cecilia's hands. The Gibbon was sent reeling back into the monitoring equipment between the two beds in the room, one of which was still occupied by his comatose friend.

The detective quickly rose up from the hospital room's floor, trying to remain calm as he forced another clip into the chamber of his hand gun. "NAIL HIM!!" he suddenly shouted as he took aim at their attacker and fired.

Cecilia put her hands to her ears as the thundering gunfire came and she ducked down next to the fallen nurse who was now bleeding profusely.

One of the other officers stayed knelt down on the ground, but fired along with the detective. Their shots were in vain, however, as Gibbon bounded through the air too fast for them to target accurately enough.

He was over Maxwell Markham's bed in a blur, scooping him up into his arms and bounding off the bed towards the window at high speeds. All of the cords attached to the monitoring and life support equipment tore away, following the Grizzly's comatose form through the crashing window along with the Gibbon.

"Damnit!" the detective shouted as he quickly ran towards the window to see where Blank went with his comrade in Markham, the officer's trigger finger still ready just in case the Gibbon was to spring up suddenly. "What the hell just happened?"

"Someone get in here already!" Cecilia Reyes yelled as she jumped to her feet and ran to the doorway of the room, ignoring the detective's question as she looked down the hall to see if anyone was on their way.

At the corner of her eye, she caught the glare of a trash can's metal frame and she remembered the white and gold trimmed "Harry's Hideaway" business card she had thrown away earlier...

Harry's Hideaway.

Just hours ago, Bobby Drake and his fellow employee, a Latino woman in her late 20s and named Candy to boot, were in a car accident and attacked in the midst of a snowstorm by a madman calling himself... well, Snowstorm.

In contrast, it's really not that funny.

After S.H.I.E.L.D. made it on scene thanks to the efforts of Candy and bystanders across the city, Snowstorm was carted away and that was that.

To both Bobby and Candy's slight chagrin, they were left somewhat unsettled by the events and decided to head back to Harry's Hideaway to meet up with Harry, the pub's owner and Jon, another coworker, who were both left for the after hours clean up duty.

Well into discussion over what happened, and the board game of "Life," the phone at the bar started to ring. Nodding mock courteously, our hero stood and walked over to the bar counter and reached for the phone.

"House of the haunted flapjacks; it's Harry's Hideaway," Bobby chimed as he pulled the phone up to his ear and tucked his pencil up on his upper-lip.

{{ Bobby? }}

"Yep. This is Bobby Drake speaking," the former X-Man turned bartender quipped as he tried to balance a pencil between his upper-lip and nose. "What can I do for you?"

{{ Stop screwing around, Drake. It's Cecilia, }} that familiar voice snapped at him. It was a strong contrast to the last time he talked to her at the hospital. {{ What the hell kind of people are you running with these days? }}

"Uh..." Bobby paused for a moment, his eyes trailing to his left where Harry, Candy, and Jon were still arguing tediously over the board game at the table. "What do you mean?"

{{ They're awake, }} Cecilia stated in a monotone, yet already frustrated voice as if trying to relay the seriousness of the situation at hand. {{ Markham and Blank are awake. }}

The pencil on Bobby's upper-lip suddenly fell from it's balancing spot as his face grew suddenly cold and disturbed, and his eyes distant and narrow. "What did you just say?"

{{ Some detective and a few cops came by the hospital, saying someone at the City wanted to pull the plug on your friends. Only that didn't happen. }}

Cecilia paused on her side of the line and swallowed as she tried to gather her bearings, her voice returning momentarily with more of a stricken retelling of the events.

{{ The shock of doing so must've pulled Martin Blank out of his coma. When he woke up, he was so freaked out that he grabbed onto the nurse and -- }}

"There's no WAY," Bobby interjected with a bit of a shout, taken aback after sensing what she was getting at. "Neither one of them could hurt a fly, even if they wanted to!"

{{ All Hell broke loose after that. I tried to stop him, but after the police opened fired he fought back, and then made a break for it out the window with your other friend. }}

"Okay," Bobby let out a deep sigh, trying to remain steady-minded as he pressed a hand over his brow, growing uncomfortable with sudden tension. "Where are you now?"

{{ I'm still at the hospital, }} Cecilia replied, her voice growing a bit distant as she took in calm breaths. {{ They're launching a citywide search for both of them from what I overheard one of the cops say. }}

"Why did the City just want to take them off life support, anyway?" Bobby asked, growing agitated by the situation as it gradually unfolded to him. "The hospital was supposed to be billing me, damnit!"

{{ They're known criminals, cop killers, even, }} Cecilia announced knowingly. {{ The account you gave the hospital was bogus though, Bobby. The bank said the account owner refused billing. }}

"What?!" Bobby barked out, gaining the full-on attention this time from his fellow coworkers. It wasn't every day they saw the seemingly trouble free man have an outburst like that.

{{ Since neither the receptionists or doctors knew how to get a hold of you and your two friends were known felons, the hospital had to bill the City. }}

"Alright, whatever. I'll get to the bottom of that later," Bobby said intently as he moved around the bar counter to grab his jacket, adrenaline pumping through him. "Stay at the hospital, Cecilia. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Taking his black leather jacket from a coat-hanger on the pub wall, Bobby looked back over to the table of Harry and company. "Sorry, you guys. I can't hang for the powwow."

"Something going on, man?" Jon asked the same question that was on everyone's mind at the moment, but Bobby simply made a gesture with his hand as if to tell him not to worry about it as he headed for the door.

It looked like his quest for a normal life had just been put on hold yet again...

Interlude.

When the Professor was assassinated, everything was left to Scott and Jean in his will as they were to take over as the school's headmasters. Warren, Hank, and I were left access to it in case of emergencies, being of his original five students.

Looking back on it now, I realize that it was probably Scott who shut me out of the school's account and canceled all my transactions.

Of course, with the way I've been squandering the school's money left and right on nothing but bills and rent that I couldn't cover right away, I honestly don't blame him. I'm man enough to admit that what I did was wrong.

It was probably guilt that made me want to cover Grizz and Gib's medical bills. But then you toss my infamous maturity levels into the mix, and I'm no longer taking on the responsibility that I wanted to take.

The Xavier accounts must have been covering some high withdrawals after that, and knowing how Scott's been lately, he probably didn't even bother to check and see where the withdrawals were coming from when he found out.

In this instance, I really wish he would have.

I've been at this for a couple of days now, and almost every moment the same thoughts keep coming in and out of my head.

After countless Google search engines performed and flexing a little street muscle of my own, I was able to get down the location of one of Grizzly and Gibbon's last known safe-houses.

It's amazing what you can find on the Internet, though I can't help but think that this would've been so much easier if I still had access to Cerebro and the mansion's resources.

Hell, even a car would be nice.

Looking down at the piece of paper in my hand, and then over to the street signs and addresses on each of the buildings I pass below, I find out that I'm not far from the next address on the list. Here's to hoping it's the place.

"How does he look?" Gibbon asked, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he looked over his former partner in crime's shoulder to the motionless form of Maxwell Markham, otherwise known as the Grizzly, lying on a termite worn wooden table.

"Like he's in a coma," the man in the white suit with black spots covering it deadpanned. There was a brief pause, and then finally he turned his head and looked up to Gibbon. "What? You expected him to look like something else?"

"I mean is he gonna be okay?" Gibbon asked through clenched teeth with the hint of a stern growl in his voice. He was trying his best to remain civil.

The Spot sighed.

"I'm not THAT kind of doctor, Blank," he replied, scratching the temple of his head, his eyes narrowed in thought. "But I think I may know how to wake him..."

Gibbon opened his mouth to say something, but before he could he was interrupted the portly shaped man who stepped into the room from a dimly lit doorway.

"Yer lucky Spot and me don't rip ya a new one for what you did to us last time we crossed," the figure in said in a grim and dark voice.

Lightning struck through the skies outside, illuminating the room briefly to reveal a figure decked from head to toe in what appeared to be gold body armor.

Martin Blank immediately recognized the exaggerated Australian accent right off the bat as belonging to another of his one-time running mates, the Kangaroo.

"Not like any jail cell could hold the two of us, anyway."

"Ugh," Gibbon sneered with a disgusted sigh, throwing up his hands in the air before placing them on his hips and staring Kangaroo straight in the eye.

"Revenge, revenge, revenge... I said I was sorry. Isn't that enough?"

Spot and Kangaroo both froze and traded uncertain glances, a moment of silence falling between them. Finally, they both shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Sure, I guess..."

Spot finished connecting a set of what appeared to be jumper cables onto Grizzly's shoulders. "This will help tell us if

A low humming began to radiate from the rusted and unmaintenanced machinery the cables were connected to, running along the wall a few feet from the table Grizzly was lying on.

"What uh... what will you be doing to help him, though?"

*poit*

*poit*

Spot stood on one of the side the table, putting his arms out at full span. Two black portals slipped from Spot's wrist and flew out at the head and feat of Grizzly's body.

"I'm going to displace him from this dimension," Spot said as he slowly brought his hands closer together before his chest, both of the portals taking Grizzly's body end by end into the darkness dimension.

"Just like the shock of being torn off life support woke you, the shock of being displaced from this time and reality may wake him as well."

*poit*

In a blink, the two black spots dispersed as they crossed each other and Maxwell Markham's body reappeared, convulsing and heaving breaths of air in pain in shock. To the Spot's surprise, he jumper cables connected to his shoulders were gone.

Then suddenly, sparks began to fly from the machinery just as Grizzly opened his eyes in horror. Gibbon lifted his long time friend up and turned to bound away.

"What's happening?" Gibbon asked, slowly backing away.

"Holy --" Kangaroo started to say in a dull, American accent.

A bright flash of light dropped killed Kangaroo's words dead in his throat.

Epilogue

A thundering 'boom' rocks the streets of Brooklyn, and I nearly fall over and off the street curb. When I look up, I catch the sight of the side of a two-story building being blown outwards by an explosion, and various cars swerve out of the way of burning rubble.

Don't know why, but I have feeling I just found Griz and Gibb...

Sirens echo in the distance as I throw out the civvies approach and generate an ice sled at my feet, which carries me over the distance between me and the building quickly.

From atop my sled of ice I see three cop cars speeding down the streets towards the same location as I am, and I can't help but think what they would do to Grizzly and Gibbon if they got to them first.

So with the flick of my wrist in their direction, the streets suddenly become slick as ice and the police cruisers lose traction beneath their wheels.

Interfering with police activities isn't exactly the most illegal thing I've done before, especially with all my years as an X-Man.

Once I get to the two-story building, I consider trying to put out the flames when I see Gibbon, with Grizzly over his shoulder, bound out of the gaping hole in the building where the explosion originated from.

They both drop down into an alleyway, and I see Grizzly move to his feet. He's awake somehow. Most of the people in the streets have fled, and I can see that one end of the street's been blocked off by the rubble and the other by abandoned cars.

No one could probably get through right away, or would even try.

That means they're all mine.

Maneuvering my ice sled downwards, I quickly touch down into the alleyway almost immediately after they regain their composure. They both jump at the sound of my arrival, and I leap off the sled to approach them.

"Why didn't either of you tell me?!" I find myself shouting in pent up frustration.

Before either of them could move, I snap both of my fingers and two walls of ice appear suddenly at opposite ends of the alleyway, enclosing the three of us and preventing anyone from getting in. "I stick my neck out for you two losers and -- "

I stop myself and take a deep breath as I notice the startled looks on my face. Neither of them seem to have anything to say in their defense. Both of them are probably shocked to know I found out.

"Jesus Christ," I sigh, shaking my head in disbelief with them and myself. Sometimes I can forget how much of a hothead I really am. "Why did you two even TRY to be 'heroes' after everything that you've done?"

They probably didn't expect me to lash out like that, especially the moment they see me after waking up from a horrible beating in their first real outing.

But it was just building inside of me and by the looks on their faces, I can tell they have a keener understanding then I thought they would.

"I guess you could say we wanted to redeem ourselves..." Gibbon speaks up, breathing loudly through his nostrils. He's got a stern, yet steady look on his face.

"Redemption?!" I shout patronizingly. How did I know they would say something so cliche...

I shake my head in disbelief and put my hand over my brow, before looking back to them and telling them, "It doesn't work that way. Nothing you can do will EVER balance the scales or lift any of the burdens off your back."

The sirens I heard just moments ago become louder, and both Grizzly and Gibbon's eyes trail back to the wall of ice behind them.

I can tell they both know what I know; the Police have just arrived in large numbers and outside the wall of ice at their end of the alleyway.

After a moment, Grizzly looks back to me and it kills me to see him hold his eyes onto me with such a sad sincerity in his eyes. "We know that now."

"Maybe we always have..." Gibbon speaks up and I look to him, only to see his dark-eyed gaze somewhat averted from mine.

"But we're gonna fix it all," Grizzly says as he swallows hard and Gibbon nods, looking to his longtime friend. "And we're gonna do it right now."

"After that little incident at the hospital, it's a little too late for that," I find myself saying with a strain in my voice. I laugh desperately and swallow, "Once you poke your heads out there, do you know what they might -- "

"Yeah," Grizzly said somberly with a nod and Gibbon steps up to his side, nodding to me as well. "We do."

I can tell they're both together on it and have been from the start. Maybe it's the only way they can truly accept responsibility for their sins, and now more than ever I know there's no stepping in the way of that.

"Then do it," I find myself reply coldly.

Turning around, I take the blue shades out of my jacket's pocket and start to walk away from them, sliding the shades over my eyes and literally begin seeing the world in the darkness I've started to perceive it as of late.

Clenching my fists, the walls of ice trapping us in the alleyways explode outwardly. I wasn't exactly sure I could do that until now, but it doesn't matter.

"Just do it, then."

None of that matters right now.

I hold my shoulders and head up as I walk out of the alleyway, leaving Grizzly and Gibbon to their decided fate. They turn away from me themselves and I can hear them as they walk out around the alleyway to a fate decided long before I met them.

As I walk out of the alleyway to a desolate street behind them all, I try to block out the sounds of police officers shouting and the sounds of countless weapons being drawn up in preparation.

They weren't X-Force, or even the Thunderbolts.

This was the real world. An exception-less world. And in this world, there was no Presidential pardon for murderers and criminals... no matter how warm and good of a heart they may have behind the killings and injustices.

For Maxwell Markham and Martin Blank, the only redemption they would ever see would be the hail of police gunfire that ended their lives.

To all my loyal fans...

Any questions, comments, flames about lateness or my dribble-esque writing technique, can be sent to Frostbyte.

I just want to take this moment to thank whoever's left reading this series. I really hoped you enjoyed this issue as it was the end of Grizzly and Gibbon's tenure as supporting characters. The story's been a long time in coming, and to some of you it's a sad ending, while to others it's a joyous occasion.

ICEMAN has been on a long hiatus in part to personal issues I've been having in real life, as well as workloads at other fanfic sites and my creative brain fart. Those who know me intimately and follow much of my fanfic can vouch for how screwed up I am. This issue's a perfect example.

Surprisingly though, I have had a pretty strong fan following on this title (not counting the guys at M2K and HEROES), which I think is pretty impressive for just some dorky coming of age fanfic, especially at my dribble-esque writing caliber as some like to say. ^_^

Anyway folks, I've said it before and I'll say it again: this time I REALLY am back on the ball! I'll prove it to you all by releasing AT LEAST on a biweekly schedule. You can all hold me to that, too.

Cory Wiegel
May 31, 2003