Scott Summers winced slightly as the sounds of creaking wooden planks crept into his ears. He unconsciously focused on the scant sounds coming from outside of the boat house, presumably from movement on the deck surrounding the boat house or the docks leading out into the lake.
 
The slight movements continued, then Scott realized a soft breeze was billowing across the lake. Birds were singing and tweeting in the distance, trees were bristling in the same breeze that moved across the lake, and Scott and his wife’s bed was making an irritating squeaking noise as he stirred about.
 
His eyes suddenly fluttered open underneath his ruby quartz goggles and he groaned at the realization that he was awake. He cleared his throat and turned his head to the bed stand to his left. A digital alarm clock resting on the night stand read "4:45 a.m." with a smaller dot in the top right corner of the screen signifying that his alarm was still set and hadn‘t gone off.
 
Looking away from the alarm clock and to the other side of the bed, Scott found that his wife - Jean Grey-Summers - was no where to be found. Assuming she must have been the one responsible for the movements outside of the boat house, he pulled the white sheets from over his body and sat upwards, just to reach down to the floor and pick up a worn, navy colored robe.
 
When Scott was dressed appropriately, he moved for the sliding glass in his and Jean's room that led out to the deck of the boathouse, simultaneously pushing aside the drapes that blocked out the sunlight and sliding the glass door open.
 
Rays of sunlight were peaking over the orchards behind the lake and, even despite his ruby quartz goggles, Scott had to raise a hand to his brow to block out the blinding light as he stepped outside. He still squinted, however, focusing his line of sight on the feminine figure sitting at a table several feet ahead of him.
 
"Jean?" Scott inquired blindly as he stepped out on to the deck of the boat house. It was then he realized his mistake as a woman with dark skin and flowing white hair turned her head in response, looking over her shoulder towards him.
 
"Not quite," Ororo Munroe replied. She smiled softly at Scott turned back to face the lake. Despite her warm composure, Scott had noted that her expression was not without an underlying hint of distraction.
 
"Getting ready to watch the sun come up?" Scott asked as he tied his robe closed and approached the table Ororo was at, taking a seat next to her.
 
"It's become a ritual of sorts lately," Ororo admitted, not breaking her gaze from the horizon and the impending sunrise. "Ever since you and I were imprisoned by the Apocalypse Dawn, I've felt that..."
 
Scott looked to Ororo as she sighed and trailed off, his lips curling into a frown. "You've felt that what?" he asked curiously.
 
"I've felt very detached from everything and everyone that I love," Ororo explained, the tone of her voice distant and the expression on her face pensive. "Sometimes, the sun rise reminds me that it's always another day."
 
"That's not a half bad ritual," Scott commented with a slight grin. He exhaled deeply and cocked his head to the side, scratching the side of his head as he said, "I've been dealing with what's happened to us with a ritual of my own, though I'm beginning to think it's no where near as spiritual as it should be."
 
"What sort of ritual?" Ororo wondered, a faint smile at the idea of the X-Men’s leader being a spiritual person, not dissimilar to her.
 
"Every day, Jean uses her powers to boost the production of serotonin in my body," Scott replied nonchalantly as he stared out over the lake, watching as the sun peeked up over the horizon. "Hank calls the boosts my psychic anti-depressants."
 
"Really?" Ororo asked, taken aback by the revelation. It wasn't quite what she had expected. "Do you think it's entirely healthy of you to resort to such methods?"
 
"With everything that's been on the line lately?" Scott asked rhetorically, then slowly nodded 'yes.' Ororo looked away and cupped her elbows with her hands, taking a moment to soak up what he had just told her.
 
"I suppose that's always been the difference between you and I," she said under her breath. Scott knew that she was right, but at the same time he didn't quite want to go into it. He got the distinct feeling that she didn't quite approve of his methods of recovery, or maybe that they just weren't to her preference...
 
"Speaking of Jean..." Scott started to say as he cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject as it had apparently made Ororo uncomfortable in some way. "Is she inside of the mansion right now, or...?"
 
"Not unless she's in the lower levels," Ororo replied readily with the slight shake of her head. "I didn't see her in the mansion on my way out, nor did I see her leave the boat house when I got here."
 
"Hunh. That's strange," Scott thought aloud, his lips curling into yet another frown. He sighed and shook his head, all the while still staring out to the sun rise. "She's been acting so strange lately, just holding back with her powers and the likes..."
 
Ororo shrugged slightly as she, too, continued to stare out across the lake.
 
"Well, that's not too strange considering the nature of her powers," she countered respectfully, taking note that the sun had almost fully emerged from the horizon. "I, myself, have to hold back sometimes or entire ecosystems could crash."
 
"That's true, I guess,” Scott said quietly as the sun continued to rise over the horizon. "With her, there’s likely a balance that needs to be maintained, but I still can't get over the feeling that something's wrong."
 
"Maybe it's just you…" Ororo suggested in a whisper.
 
"Maybe it is..." Scott replied somberly.
 
The two glanced to each other as the sun fully emerged from the horizon and its warm rays washed over them. Ororo closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, embracing the sensation that came over her body. When she exhaled, the words that she had been holding in for weeks now accompanied her breath.

"When we defeat the Byron Agency and bring our teammates home, I'm going to leave the X-Men," Ororo suddenly said as confidently as she could. "For how long, I'm not sure... but it's something that I need to do."

"Ororo..." Scott sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "If this is about --"

"Don't, Scott," Ororo interjected and widened her eyes. Scott quirked up his brow, then followed Ororo's gaze as she looked upwards. Scott's wife, Jean, was sharply descending from the morning sky enveloped in her telekinetic Phoenix raptor. Ororo and Scott looked back to each other. "We'll talk more about it later."

Scott leaned back into his chair, slumped over slightly, and rubbed the tension away from his forehead as Ororo sat up from her chair. She strode across the deck of the boat house until she reached its edge, where warm air currents lifted her body up over the wooden rail and carried her towards the mansion in flight.

"What was that about?" Jean asked as she touched down onto the deck of the boat house, the telekinetic flames around her body dissipating.

"I don't know," Scott replied with a tired shrug. He bit down on his lower lip and cocked his head to the side, sighing. "But I think I have a pretty good idea..."
 

Mother Of Mary Hospital,
Coolridge, Massachusetts.

"Eww, post-preggers lady, eww..." Bobby said in his most juvenile voice from the doorway of the hospital room, snickering. Lorna Dane and her visitor looked up just in time to see Marie Charleston ball up a fist and sock him lightly on the arm.

"You can cut that out right now, buddy," Lorna said from her bed in the middle of the room as Bobby rubbed his arm and approached the bed, Marie following suit. "I feel gross enough as it is, thank you very much."

"Ah'll keep him under control for ya, Lorna," Marie said with a smirk as she glared at Bobby, who couldn't quit grinning as they came upon Lorna's bed. She looked to the man standing on the other side and smiled at him. "Who's your friend?"

The man smiled back at Marie and reached down to what appeared to be a cell phone on his belt, pressing a button on its side. His three-dimensional form fizzled like that of an electronic image on a television screen, and the Caucasian man turned into that of a blue velvet furred demon with indigo hair and piercing yellow pupils.

"Boo," Kurt Wagner greeted as his tail shot up from behind his back and whipped down sharply, and his smile had formed into a full fledged grin complete with fangs. "For a moment there I was afraid you didn't recognize your dearest step-brother, Rogue."

"Ooohh, so it's the father..." Bobby quipped as he sat down on the edge of Lorna's bed, looking down to the twin baby boys - Chad and Matthew - resting quietly in both of her arms, and then back over to Marie and Kurt. "I mean, would you look at these two Hellraisers to be? I should have guessed it from the moment we walked into the room."

"If I wasn't exhausted and had my hands full with these two bundles, you'd be getting it something fierce, pal," Lorna retorted with a mock-snarl, her emerald green eyes narrowing on her ex-boyfriend's happy-go-lucky face.

"Hey, you're officially a mama now, lady," Bobby said in his defense, gesturing down to Lorna's two sons melodramatically. "Knowing my nature, you can expect more where this came from as soon as you get your strength back."

While Bobby and Lorna traded quips and snarks, Marie and Kurt both moved around their respective sides of Lorna's bed to the head of it and stepped away from the snipping two and the newly born children.

"It's Marie now," she said as she hugged Kurt, her foster step-brother - if that was even a term - and longtime teammate with the X-Men. As they released their embrace, she hunched her brows at him and poked his shoulder. "You really need to keep up with all of the X-Gossip that's been going around lately."

"Ah, of course I have," Kurt replied as he gestured toward the exit of the room, insisting that they leave Bobby and Lorna to catch up, as he turned his holographic disguise back on. "Calling you by your code name was merely force of habit, as they say."

"Guess that's understandable," Marie said as Kurt and her moved for the doorway, and in a moment the two ended up outside of the hospital room and into the broad hospital hallway. "So, how've things been with you two of late?"

Kurt took a deep breath and considered the question for a moment.

"Bittersweet feels like an appropriate way to describe it," he finally said with a steady nod, his eyes appearing distant. "Indeed, I was looking forward to opening the Coolridge Institute, but Sean and this 'Byron Agency' requires our immediate attention, and Lorna and her children will need the mansion as a sanctuary until the situation is resolved."

"Ah'm real sorry about the school bein' shut down before it even opened," Marie said as her lips curled up into a frown and she tilted her head to the side. "Heck, we all are. It was a real tough call for Scott and Warren."

"That's only the bitter part, though," Kurt interjected, his grim expression lightening up into a half-smile as he placed a hand on Marie's shoulder. "The sweet part is that Lorna has given birth to two beautiful and healthy baby boys, and that I get to be reunited with you, my old friends, once again after all of this time."

Marie smiled and was about to say that she felt the same way when Bobby and Lorna's voices resounded loudly from the hospital room behind Kurt and her.

"Ow!" Bobby yelped as a loud 'pang' echoed throughout the room. "Hey, that's not cool!"

"Bedpan to the head not feel too good, eh?" Lorna remarked with a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "Say that either one of my children look like Belasco again and you'll see what squeezing a baby sized bedpan in and out of a tiny opening will feel like!"

"Somethin' tells me it's gonna be a fun flight back to New York with those four," Marie said as she put a hand on her hip and thumbed over her shoulder with the other hand, winking to Kurt. "Crying babies being the least of our worries."

"Ja, perhaps we should send Bobby back on a commercial flight," Kurt said, deadpanning, as they turned around and began to walk back into the hospital room together. "Lorna may not be able to resist the urge to propel him out of the Blackbird's loading hatch..."

The White House,
Washington, D.C.

Helena Weaver casually opened the door to her dimly lit office in the White House and , letting the door fall closed behind her. With little regard to its contents, she dropped a briefcase near the entrance of the room and began for her desk, A light groan accompanied a sigh as Helena moved deeper into the room. She almost obsessively began rubbing the tension from the bridge of her nose with a thumb and a forefinger.

Every day was like a field day for the liberal press since Robert Kelly moved into office, many still questioning the legitimacy of his ascension to presidency. Some days, it seemed more like her duties included only quelling the "outlandish" claims of a deep-seated conspiracy in the White House and then actually assisting President Kelly in running the country.

The media couldn't possibly have an intelligent reason to believe that something was amidst in the United States government's chain of command, but their instincts were never as far off as had often been pegged in the past. It wouldn't matter to her, though. Even if by some chance the public manages to discover what had happened to George Bush, by then the Byron Agency will have made their move and gripped North America's media base. Free speech will then be going the way of the Dodo Bird.

While trapped in her musings, Helena found herself flipping through an official press release meant for next week. Before she could get past the initial outline, the office phone on her desk began ringing. Setting the press release down, she turned slightly and picked up the phone, putting it up to her ear.

"Helena Weaver," she said as she sat on the edge of her desk, pressing her office phone between the side of her head and her shoulder. A man on the other line began speaking urgently, his words causing her to sit up right and take special attention.

"What did you just say?" Helena snarled. The man continued, his voice still shaken and frantic in conveying information vital to recent events. Helena balled one of her hands into a fist and gritted her teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh before she finally replied. "Just let the animal escape on his own if you can."

The voice raised an objection, but Helena swiftly cut him off.

"Yes, you heard me right," she stated forcefully as she stood up from the edge of her desk and began to circle it to the back of it. "In the end, he'll probably just be more hassle then he's worth. The rest are expendable."

Helena began massaging the bridge of her nose again as the tension inexplicably returned. The voice on the other end of the line agreed to convey her message, but asked what he should say if the decision was questioned.

"Wolverine will just be one more distraction for the Xavier Brigade," Helena explained as she moved to the center desk drawer and opened it. A small, leather black book sat in the middle of the drawer, with no visible markings on it. The voice continued asking questions, much to Helena's chagrin, but she remained as collected as possible. "No, don't worry about his memories," she insisted. "Leave it all up to me."

Before the informant on the other line could voice his innate obedience, Helena hung up the phone and picked up the leather booklet from the desk. She flipped through it almost intuitively for a moment until she came across the page that she was looking for. Holding it open, she picked up her office again and dialed the number that she had been looking for. Someone on the other line promptly picked up.
 
"Clearance code 'kaupandi,' extension 050977," Helena said as she sat into the swivel chair at her desk and leaned back into it. "Get me Agent Sean Cassidy, please."

The X-Mansion's War Room,
Westchester County, Salem Center, New York.

Several dozen feet below the famous Xavier Estate in a high-tech bunker created by the late founder of the X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, a portable phone rang beside the blue furred, simian-like mutant known as the Beast to the world over, but Hank McCoy to his friends and colleagues. With a clawed hand, he promptly picked up the phone and put it to his ear, even as he typed away at a computer before him.

"The Xavier Institute For Higher Learning," Hank said impassively, leaning the side of his head down into his shoulder as to wedge the phone in place. "Dr. Hank McCoy speaking, how may I help you?"

{{ Heya Hankster, }} a mischievous, Southern accented voice greeted from the other line. {{ Wanna see something for the team yearbook? }}

"You know that I do, my darling Marie," Hank replied, picking up on his teammate's playful intentions. "I'm on monitor duty in the War Room. Send it my way."

{{ Okay. }} After a moment of faint typing sounding on the other end of the phone, Marie finally suggested seductively, {{ Now check the communications console. }}

On her word, Hank turned away from the console that he was sitting at and shuffled his feet over the floor, pushing himself in his swivel chair over to another console across the room. There, he bit down on his bottom lip and typed in a few commands, bringing up a blown up image on the communications screen.

"Oh..." Hank breathed, his mouth opening in surprise, but then slowly twisted into a bemused grin as he roared in laughter. "Oh my! That is simply sidesplitting!"

Marie couldn't help but break out into a giggling fit at Hank's reaction, barely able to stifle her amusement over the phone. It was then the two entrance doors to the War Room slid open with an air-depressurizing hiss, garnering Hank to whirl around in his swivel chair between chuckles just in time to see Scott walk in, visibly taken aback by the hysterical state of his long time friend.

"Scott, come here," Hank said, waving him in towards the communications console. "You have to see this."

"You're not downloading from that abandoned, Brotherhood of Mutants fetish site again, are you?" Scott said with a stiff brow and his lips twisted in a frown, referring to one of the many ways the Brotherhood financed their operations. "It's kind of counter-productive to our cause to be financing terrorists like that, y'know..."

Hank shook his head and turned back to the screen at the communications console, hitting another command and speaking back into the portable phone on his shoulder. "Here, Marie, I'm putting you on speaker."

Scott walked up to the communications console, undeniably curious at that moment, and the image that Hank was referring to came into view.

Bobby was laying on his back in a seat on the Blackbird, his head arms hanging sprawled off one end while his legs and lower body hung off the other end. His hair was tussled and in a mess, his shirt was hiked up to his chest, and his mouth was wide open, drool sliding down the side of his cheek.

{{ Bobby wouldn't stop annoying Lorna about being a new mama, so Ah slipped a Sabretotoh-sized mickey into his soda, }} Marie explained, still chuckling between words. She then asked, {{ Hear that? }} There was a moment of silence on her end and she broke into another fit of laughter. {{ Peace an' quiet... }}

Hank turned his head up to Scott with a toothy smile that went from ear to ear, finding his longtime friend and leader of the X-Men equally amused.

"I love it," Scott said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and put a hand up to his chin, gripping it slightly as he tried to hide back a bright and devious smirk. "Hank, call up that t-shirt place in Salem Center with my credit card number. I think I have this year's Christmas shopping done..."

But before Hank could reply one way or another, an alarm sounded from the other end of the War Room in the form of repetitive and long 'beeping' sounds. Scott and Hank both traded looks, bewildered by the sudden interruption.

{{ What's that? }} Marie asked over the speaker phone, similarly confused.

"Marie, we're going to have to let you go for the moment," Scott said as he leaned into the communications console, nodding for Hank to check out the alarm. Hank promptly pushed off from the console with his feet, causing him to glide across the War Room quickly. "Thanks for the gag, though. We'll talk more when you get back."

{{ Alrighty, }} Marie replied as Hank went to work. {{ Later guys. }}

Scott pressed a button on the console, effectively hanging up on her. He looked over to Hank, who was typing away at another console for a moment until he suddenly sat up erect, frozen in a moment of realization.

{{ Cerebro's intercontinental scan has returned one of five queries, }} the computer suddenly stated coldly. {{ Displaying results. }}

"My stars," Hank muttered under his breath as Scott walked up behind him, and the two saw the computer display two separate images on the monitor before them - one a map of Canada and the other of one of their teammates. "After weeks of searching..."

Hank trailed off as the two fell quiet, as if in a startled sense of awe, until Scott suddenly leaned forward and pressed a button on the console.

"X-Men, assemble in the War Room," he said into the computer's speaker. "I think we've just found Wolverine..."