Chapter 200
The room smelled like steel and chemicals. Too clean, too sharp. Machines hummed softly around Xavier's bed, tubes feeding him, monitors flashing his fragile pulse. He looked shrunken, pale against the sheets.
The X-Men gathered around him, every one of them heavy with silence. Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, listening to the uneven rhythm of the Professor's heart. 'Damn it, Chuck. You're still in there, but it's like you're locked in a cage.'
Lilandra sat at Xavier's side, her fingers trembling as she held his hand. Her voice broke. "I asked Oracle to scan him… with her psi gift. To reach his mind. She told me…" Lilandra's eyes shut tight, tears spilling. "He has walled himself off from us. There is something inside him… something fighting to take him. Charles is battling it alone."
Nightcrawler's tail twitched, his voice soft. "Mein Gott… und Oracle could not help?"
Lilandra shook her head. "She tried. But she was nothing before the storm within him. She was… frightened."
Kitty sniffled, voice small. "So, he's… he's trapped in there? Fighting some monster? All by himself?"
Colossus clenched a fist so hard his knuckles cracked. "It should be me. Us. We fight together. But he… he must bear this burden alone."
Storm placed a hand on Lilandra's shoulder. "Lilandra, do not blame yourself."
But Lilandra's voice cracked with guilt. "It is my fault. He came because of me. He risked himself—for me. And now he may never return."
The silence sat heavy.
And then the ground trembled. Logan's nose caught it first—burnt metal, ion drive, ozone. He straightened, claws half-ready. "Ship's comin' down. Not Shi'ar, different smell."
The mansion windows rattled as a craft descended from the sky, its engines roaring until it slowed into a steady hover and landed on the lawn. The team bolted outside, fanning out, ready for anything.
The hatch hissed. A figure emerged—then another, and another.
Corsair's eyes went wide. "No… it can't be."
"Thre starjammers?" Cyclops muttered, confused.
The ragtag crew of the Starjammers spilled out, wild smiles and battle-worn gear. One of them, a tall feral woman, ran forward and grabbed Corsair in a bear hug.
"You old bastard!" she laughed, tears in her eyes. "You're alive!"
Corsair staggered back, stunned, then laughed in disbelief. "I… I thought you were all dead! I thought… I'd never see you again!"
A burly alien ,Ch'od, slapped Corsair on the back so hard it nearly toppled him. "We thought the same of you! But when the Sidri were summoned back, they left us. We were pinned, ship torn to shreds. Took us weeks to patch her together."
Nightcrawler clapped his hands, tail curling happily. "Ach, more friends! This is truly a house of miracles tonight!"
Kitty peeked from behind Colossus, whispering. "Wow… they look like pirates."
Logan smirked, his nostrils twitching as he sized them up. "Smell like pirates too, kid."
Corsair was still grinning like a fool, hugging each of them in turn. "You don't know how much this means. I thought when I stayed behind, that was it. I never—" His voice broke for just a second.
Colossus's deep voice rumbled warmly. "A family… reunited."
Logan muttered low, half to himself. "Yeah. Don't get used to it. Things like this never last long." But even he couldn't stop the faint grin tugging at his lip.
Lilandra stepped forward, voice steady but soft. "We are grateful you survived. Your captain… was needed more than ever."
Corsair gave her a nod of respect, still holding onto one of his crew's arms like he couldn't quite believe they were real.
And inside, the mansion hummed with machines, Xavier still silent.
The X-Men watched this reunion with mixed feelings—joy for Corsair, but the reminder that their own leader lay broken inside gnawed at every heart.
The night at Xavier's mansion was thick with hope and grief, and somewhere beyond the stars, Deathbird was already moving her next piece.
---
The night was cool in Westchester, a rare calm. But Cyclops couldn't sleep. He stood on the balcony, visor glowing faint red against the moonlight. Below, the Starjammers were laughing, Corsair swapping war stories with his crew like no time had passed.
Scott's fists clenched at the railing. 'He looks so damn comfortable with them. Like a man who never left. But he left us. Left me. Left Alex. I need answers.'
Footsteps. Corsair's voice behind him. "You've got that look, Scott. Same one your mother used to get when she was about to tell me off."
Scott turned, visor glinting. "I don't want to fight you. Not now. Not after all this. But I need to understand. You had a family here. Me. Alex. Why didn't you come back for us?"
Corsair's grin faltered. The pirate captain mask slipped, leaving just a tired man. "Son… I thought you were gone. When the Shi'ar tore us from the sky, when I watched you two falling…" His voice cracked but he pushed through. "I saw the parachute catch fire. Both of you. I wanted to believe you'd survived, but I couldn't… I couldn't let myself. Because if I hoped and I was wrong… it would've killed me."
Scott's jaw tightened. He wanted to shout. Wanted to cut him with words. But then he remembered Corsair under the psi-scream, screaming Anne's name, seeing D'Ken's face in his own. The grief had been real.
Scott sighed, his voice low. "When that Brood hit you with its scream… you didn't see me. You saw him. The one who killed Mom. You wanted to kill me."
Corsair lowered his head, shame plain. "I failed you, Scott. I failed both my boys. No excuses."
For the first time, Scott looked him in the eye—not the pirate, not the Starjammer, but the man beneath. His father. And he made his choice.
"You want to make it right? Come with me tomorrow. Alex deserves to know you're alive."
Corsair blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're right. No more running."
---
The next day, Diablo Range, California.
The sun beat down on the desert as the Blackbird sliced through the sky. Inside, Scott sat stiff as stone, Corsair beside him, silent. Polaris leaned against Havok's porch railing, green hair glittering in the sunlight, when the jet landed.
Alex Summers answered the door, casual clothes, easy smile—until he saw Scott standing there. "Well, well. Didn't expect you, brother. Thought you were too busy running the spandex squad."
Scott smirked faintly. "Nice to see you too, Alex."
"Don't just stand there—come in!" Alex pulled him into a quick hug, then glanced past him. "Wait. You didn't come alone."
Scott stepped aside. Corsair walked forward, sun catching the silver in his hair. His eyes were uncertain, almost afraid.
"Alex," Scott said carefully, "this is Christopher Summers. Our father."
Alex froze. His jaw dropped. His eyes darted from Scott to the stranger in front of him. Then, slowly, he laughed, half-disbelieving, half-shaken. He turned, kissed Polaris on the cheek, muttering, "Okay, Lorna, I've finally lost it. I woke up, right? Tell me this is some joke."
But Polaris just stared, wide-eyed. And Corsair—Christopher—spoke, voice breaking.
"No joke, son. It's me. It's your father."
The desert wind howled through the silence, carrying with it years of absence, of pain, of questions.
And Alex Summers stood rooted in the doorway, his entire world tilting off its axis.