“He shouldn’t be here, Logan.” Scott Summers said, face scrunched up behind his ruby quartz glasses.
Logan rolled his eyes, staring down at Spider-Man’s prone form from the observation room. Hank McCoy and Cecilia Reyes—who had been over for a quick visit, only to be pulled in by Hank to for help—cutting through his bloody, scorched costume. “What was I supposed to do, leave him bleeding out in that blown up building?”
“Of course not!” Scott spat. He gestured angrily at Spider-Man. “But you shouldn’t have brought him here!”
“He’s been to the mansion before,” Logan replied.
“Never belowground!” Scott bellowed. “Where we keep all our vital equipment and information!”
“Scott has a point, Logan.” Logan didn’t need to turn around to see the thoughtful, if stern, frown on Charles Xavier’s face. “I seem to recall there being a warrant out for Spider-Man’s arrest.”
“Please.” Logan waved them off. “Every day the United States government wavers between deciding whether Mutants should be put into camps or shot on sight—harboring one little fugitive won’t change anything.”
“It’s an unnecessary risk!” Scott shouted, grabbing Logan by the shoulder and forcing him around. “You know all the rumors surrounding him.”
“Awful prejudice of you, eh, Summers?” Logan said with a smirk.
He could see a bit of crimson fire brimming behind Scott’s glasses. “He’s dangerous, and you know it.”
Logan turned back to Spider-Man. Dangerous? Certainly. Kid hit like a truck—could do a lot damage if he didn’t keep such tight control of himself. If he didn’t hold himself to an impossibly high standard. That was the crux of it, really—Spider-Man had muscle, but he also had a heart.
Why else would he follow Logan through three miles of sewage on the barest rumor of some creeps kidnapping mutant kids?
Charles wheeled up beside him. “Logan, what’s the matter?”
“How’re the kids, Chuck?”
Even Scott’s anger wilted at the reminder of the dozen-or-so kids Kurt Wagner and Katherine ‘Kitty’ Pryde were currently entertaining. “They’re well enough—no injuries, thank god. Ororo and Jean are leading the efforts into contacting their parents.” Charles’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Though a few have expressed terror at the idea of returning to them.” Well, if that wasn’t a kick in the balls.
Charles light chuckle lifted the mood, though. “But they all have expressed a desire to thank Spider-Man in person. They were drawing pictures, last I heard—even the older ones.”
