Work Text:
The mission was normal. It started out normal.
The Professor told them there was mutant activity — The Brotherhood activity — at a chemical plant, and sent them out on a Thursday night. A normal, Thursday night.
They suited up and clambered into the Blackbird and everything was okay.
Kurt was talking, Kitty was worrying for her general biology test in the morning, and Crankcase was complaining about the Brotherhood being stupid, and then muttering to CONS.
Crankcase and CONS are always talking. All of the X-Men are used to it. The mumbling never make much sense, but then again, Scott’s only barely hearing one side of the conversation.
He’d like to believe that Crankcase and him are friends enough to trust each other—to talk with each other. However, he knows that nobody could ever break his bond with his symbiote.
It’s a normal mission. Until it’s not.
Scott’s dodging and ducking and shooting and making sure his team is okay. Kurt’s using up more power than usual, teleporting rapidly. Jean’s been feeling off all week, and her powers have been almost uncontrollable.
Scott’s rushing over to help her with Quicksilver when it happens.
Screaming. Screaming so loud his ears are ringing.
Quicksilver clutches his head, cupping his hands over his ears, eyebrows furrowed, and Scott whips around to see the cause of the noise.
It’s Crankcase — or it’s CONS, because he’s never known Crankcase to scream like this. He’ll yelp in pain, sometimes, or grunt, but he never screams. He’s never this animalistic.
Watching CONS, pink skin writhing, bubbling massive, gaping maw stretching wide and wider.
There’s a container of something—something with a yellow hazard sticker stuck to.
CONS crushes it with one stomp. Scott feels oddly like he’s in a Godzilla movie.
Scott shares a look with his team—minus Crankcase (or CONS) who’s trembling uncontrollably—and he takes a step closer.
He even doesn’t get one word out, lips still parted, tongue curled upwards towards the roof of his mouth, about to pronounce the ‘CRA’ of Crankcase, when a pink tentacle flicks towards him, colliding with him, sending him flying into a wall.
He pushes himself to his feet, shoulder blazing.
Scott catches the Brotherhood’s confused looks. Do they think he’s suddenly switched sides? Do they even realize that there’s a teenage boy, one just like them, underneath the seven foot pink monster? Do they even know who Crankcase is? Could they recognize him in the halls at Bayville?
By the look of it, Jean’s trying to get into his head. CONS growls, one of his four arms stretching out to grab her. She wriggles as she goes higher and higher, and then he drops her like he’s been burned.
She plunges. Kurt teleports, catches her, and sets her beside Scott.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
She nods weakly, holding her temple. “I can’t see him. It’s all blocked.”
“Hey, if you don’t get your guy under control—“ starts Lance, uncharacteristically serious as he glances at Kitty across the room.
CONS’ body shakes and shivers and grows and he’s eight feet, nine feet tall.
“Professor?” asks Scott, shifting into the comms line because he isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t want to hurt CONS—or Crankcase. He can’t talk it out, because his shoulder still stings fron his impact against the wall.
Those are his friends. How can he hurt them? However, he’s team leader. How can he let his team get hurt?
It’s not like CONS injured Jean. She’s fine. She’s breathing normally and looking as panicked as he feels.
“Fuck this! Can’t you idiots see that it’s some sort of ploy?” says Quicksilver, rushing towards CONS’ shifting, lengthening form.
CONS grabs him, as if his super speed didn’t matter, like it didn’t factor in— and throws him into the wall. Hard. Echos of a bone cracking across the concrete hard.
Scott can see Quicksilver’s bone sticking out of his elbow.
Open fracture, his brain supplies helpfully.
Quicksilver screams. Awful, loud screams. He slides himself up onto the wall, feet scratching against the pavement, clutching his arm.
Scott has the realization that they’ve never really hurt the Brotherhood before. In the grand scheme of things, in comparison to this, their fights are just them dicking around. They don’t want to hurt each other—not really. Not like this.
“What the fuck?!” Quicksilver screeches.
Todd looks nervous, hopping over to his friend. “Hey man,” he says, looking at Scott, then to CONS, then to Scott again, “you can stop now.”
“I’m not—“ Scott starts, and then Jean gasps.
“What?” he asks, immediately turning his attention to her.
CONS growls at her, like a wild animal, and pushes himself into the unoccupied back corner, almost curled up.
“I got in for a moment. Crankcase is unconscious,” Jean answers, eyebrows pinched in worry.
Up until how, the X-Men were under the assumption that CONS and Crankcase worked symbolically, that one cannot exist without the other. Yet, CONS being able to stay in a shift (and a powerful m one, at that) proves otherwise.
CONS can do whatever he wants with Crankcase’s body. Scott thought he was good, safe.
“CONS?” inquires Kitty, softly, holding a hand out.
He flashes his teeth, a low sound coming from his throat.
The Professor’s voice crackles through his comms, but Scott can’t hear it because CONS’ has broken through the wall and has escaped.
“Shit,” says Scott.
When they finally manage to find CONS (after a long, awkward look from the Brotherhood, then the declaration that this fight will continue later. Then an apology for Quicksilver’s arm.), the Professor manages to psychically calm CONS down enough to get Crankcase into the med bay.
What the Professor can figure out from the collection of memories slipping through the gaps of CONS’ psychic block, is that neglected hazardous waste of some kind somehow got onto Crankcase and CONS freaked out more than anybody thought he would. CONS has always been fairly level-headed, after all.
Crankcase is laying on the hospital bed, left shoulder healing quickly from third degree chemical burns. CONS is coiled around him, shifting positions constantly. He’s much less scared now, just protective.
By the time Crankcase finally wakes up, Kurt is doing homework from yesterday on the med bay floor and Scott is texting Jean—who reluctantly went to her soccer practice.
“You broke Quicksilver’s arm!” he informs, tail swishing out behind him.
Crankcase sits up. “I what?” he asks, wincing.
“You broke his arm. I’d suggest staying clear of him for a few weeks,” says Scott.
Crankcase groans, although seemingly not in pain. “The one time something cool happens and I’m not even actually there. Great.”