Hello, Mice again! Well, after a muy frutrating week (including my internet e-mail box, grrrrrrrr), I decided to write a story. Yeah, yeah, SHOCK, I know, but this exists outside the Jezebel timeline (which includes the Frostbitten one). This takes place during one battle of the X-Men, recent. Right after issue 50. Since I hated UX331 with a passion (don't like Bryan Hitch...check out Mice Tails 6 for more details), I decided to do my own version. Afterall, I am dedicated to producing Iceman fan- fiction. So, without further adieu, here's the story. Neva Huddleston Presents... Icicles By Mice Art Not By Bryan Hitch "HANK!!!!!!!!" cries out Warren Worthington, called Archangel by some. He's an X-Man, he was one of the original X-Men. His bonds with the other original X-Men are unbreakable and indestructable and unforgivable. Unforgivable if he thinks what he's thinking right now. "Warren, what is--Oh, my stars and garters...Bobby..." Hank McCoy is also one of the orginals. The complete list is him, Warren, Scott and Jean Grey Summers, and Bobby Drake. Jean is the only onewho has ever died on them, but she had always returned, she's called 'Phoenix' for a reason. But Bobby Drake is just the Iceman. Now, he is the Icceman unconscious. Hank McCoy moves without thinking. He piles on the Iceman's chest and begins to pump his heart, but it's useless. He's in his ice form. And worse yet, his ice-form has a gaping hole in it from a recent battle. "Hank, why did you stop, Hank! Is he...?" "Not yet, Warren. Not yet." "Yet..yet?? What do you mean?" "I can't do anything for him in his ice state. Especially with that hole. We could try Emma Frost, since the Professor and Jean are in Morocco, and Betsy is too weak to do something of the caliber of taking over his mind." "I don't trust that mind witch--" "Neither do I, Warren, and niether does Robert, but I'd rather trust her than having him die. Now, go get in touch with the Academy, I'll stay with Bobby." Warren leaves, and Hank McCoy is left alone. He is not the Hank McCoy that was an X-man with these men, he is from another reality. But, something tugs at what he thought was a non-existant heart. Perhaps if things had been different where he had come from, he begins to think, maybe I could have been friends with the Iceman. After reading their McCoy's personal files, it would seem that they were as close as any brother. But, he quickly shakes such thoughts out of his mind. They are blasphemous, and do not fit in with his image for himself. "Hank...he'll be okay, right?"asks Warren coming back with a lump in his throat. "We can only hope, Worthington. Is Emma on her way?" "Yes, along with Jubilee. They'll be here in the hour." * * * * * * * * * "He waited too long to ask for my help!" exclaims Emma Frost, the White Queen. "All the idiot had to do was ask!" "If I recall, Frost, he did! On numerous occasions!" yells back Warren, defending his friend. "Fine. Whatever. So, you want me to go into his mind because your numerous resident telepaths are out of comission or are on a vacation?" "They are NOT--" "SHUT UP!!!!! ALL OF YA!!!!! He's dying! So whatever ya gonna do, DO IT!!!" Jubilee shouts out with all emotion and caring. Emma Frost is taken aback for a moment, but is quite impressed with the passion behind Jubilee, a side that she rarely shows. Emma begins to sink into Robert Drake's mind and into his consciousness. "Jubilee, why are you even here? You never even really liked Bobby!" "Shut up, Worthington! Just cuz I didn't show any 'preciation towards him, doesn't mean I don't like him!" Oh, and how she liked him! She remembers the day that the original memebers moved back in. She was upset at first, since her and the others had already bonded, but, she got used to it. The first time she saw Bobby was when they were in Genosha, and it was only for a moment, and he was iced up. He looked quite graceful to her, glinding on iceslides and standing in the hot sun with his body gleaming. She didn't think about it again until she saw him moving in. She didn't realize it was the same guy, but, damn, she thought, he looked so fine in those jeans! Bobby always looked like he was around nineteen or so, though he was about five years older than that. He had brown hair that was always messed up and came down right above his eyes. Those ice blue eyes that were warm regardless of the seemingly cold effect. To her, he was a slacker god. And, he was her crush. But, Jubilee didn't want to seem too eager. So, she made fun of him, teased him, insulted him, and he went right along. To her, it was kind of romantic. But, time moved on, and along came Everett Thomas, her new flame. But, that didn't mean that Jubilee didn't care for Bobby. If Wolvie was her dad, she thought, then Bobby would have to be my bro. * * * * * * * * * ~Robert? Are you still in here?~ "What are you doing in here, AGAIN, Frost?" It was Bobby, seemingly. "Your friends are worried about you. You're on the brink of death, you know." "I...I am??" At first, she thinks he's mocking her. But, his astral form shows otherwise. He thought that this was just all a dream. He's had dreams like this a lot. Ever since he moved to Xaviers. "No." "Bobby, do you think I would be here if I was joking? Right now, Warren, Hank, and Jubilee are surrounding you, praying that you'll live! I didn't fly out here in the middle of the night just so you could accuse me that I'm playing a deliberate prank on you!" "I thought you were a telepath! You could do this from your own bed!" "Yes, but it's much easier to do when I'm in direct contact with the person and Jubilee was worried sick. She demanded we come." "So...what do we need to do?" "YOU need to wake up! De-Ice yourself. Then, Hank can treat you." "But...I can't. I'm too scared." "Robert, trust yourself!" "NO! You do it for me." "I can't. That's one part of your powers that I could never figure out. And you need to do it." The two astral forms look at each other. One is blonde and beautiful and confident. The other is a boy, scared and uncertain. Complete opposites. But, for a moment, they look into each other's eyes and Robert Drake and Emma Frost see why she's doing this. It's not for him, exactly, or anybody else. It's for her. It's all Robert Drake needs to know. It's all Emma needs to blush, both physical and astral form. Notoriously hard thing to do. "Drake...just do it." "Promise me one thing, Frost." "Yes, Drake?" she says colder than ever, trying to fight the fact that she's as nervous and scared. "After this is all done...we get to have a big, long, talk about everything." "Of course. I'm sure you're quite perplexed by your powers--" "No." And with that, the astral arm of Bobby Drake grabs Emma's and he embraces her and gives her an astral kiss. They break away after a moment, and now they are both crying. "Hmmph," she says as she tries to fight off the tears, "I'm sorry. This is not like me..." "Emma, somewhere in there is a different woman. One with a caring soul that wants to be loved, just like all of us. You don't have to be so cold all the time." She smiles. She blushes. She does everything that is against her standards, but she doesn't care. For once, somebody loves her not for her body, not for her power, but for her. She doesn't need to manipulate him into loving her. He did it of his own free will. It's the most kindest, generous, and wonderful thing that has ever happened. "Go and change back, Drake. I'll be waiting." "So will I..." * * * * * * * * * "So, Miz Frost, what happened, you're beet red!" "Jubilation, it is none of your business. Drake is still quite alive. He shall be reforming here in a few moments." The four wait in a quiet hush. An hour passes. Nothing. Two hours later, his body has returned to normal, except for his chest. Quite visible is his internal organs and some bits of flesh exposed and bleeding. The med-lab is in a panic and works furiously on the rapidly dying body of Robert Drake. After another hour, his body is hooked up onto life support. * * * * * * * * * A week has passed. Nothing has changed in the comatose body of Robert Drake. Scott, Jean, and the Professor have returned from Morocco and have seen Bobby. Warren has left to go to Colorado with Betsy to help her recover, but has his pager with him all the time, in case Bobby wakes up. The Alter Beast is still there, treating Robert Drake's wounds. He could kill the boy, and he could do it quite easily, but he doesn't want to. If I were to kill him, he thinks, I don't think I could forgive myself. He thinks this when Emma Frost, who has been staying at the mansion, walks in. "You're not really Hank McCoy, are you?" "Not for this timeline, no." His answer surprises him. "You're the one that tried to blow up my building with Gene Nation, correct." "Correct." "Where's the real Hank McCoy?" "New Jersey." "Get him, NOW." "As you wish." Emma Frost leaves, she didn't have to use her mental powers or any other distractions that she was willing to do for Bobby. But, she wonders, why did he answer me so honestly? Maybe, just maybe, the more things do change, the more they stay the same. * * * * * * * * * Five hours later, the real McCoy bounces back into his home. His other self has not told him why, but he is curious. He let his other self guide him back home. There is something different about him, Hank thinks. He enters the mansion and is confronted promptly by Jubilee and Emma. "Hurry, Hairball!!!" exclaims Jubilee. Hank McCoy barely has time to figure out what the girl means until he reaches one of the med-labs and sees his best friend, stitched up and hooked up, and the machine is beeping wildly.He turns to his other self and the immediately begin to work on his broken friend. An hour later, the crisis is averted. Emma remains in the room with the real McCoy. "He's not going to get better, is he, McCoy?" "The part of me, the part that's his friend, says that he'll be fine." "And the doctor says...?" "It's hopeless. If he had been anyone else, I would have disconnected him." Emma fidgets with one of the straps on her leather bustier, trying to to hold back a wave of feelings that she's feeling. She's hurt, and upset with Bobby. She's crying and enraged. She's lashing out and she's begging. But, it's all in the inside. On the outside, she's the White Queen, the bitch. But, Hank McCoy isn't a doctor of strictly medicine. "Emma, I'll leave you alone with him. I think you need it." She smiles appreciatively as he leaves. Then, she slowly closes her eyes and begins to focus her mind towards the body that now lays before her. * * * * * * * * * "Funny, don't you think, Drake?" "Hmm?" "A couple months back, it was I who was laying in this room, unconscious and with no hope for survival. And now, here you are." "Hey, it ain't hopeless! I have something to fight for, Emma!" "I suppose so...but...what if you don't survive?" "I'm a 'the glass is half full' kind of guy. I will live." Her form's chest heaves in and out, trying to cover everything that she's feeling, but lately, she can't be as introverted as she wants. "What's wrong?" His tone is deep and sincere. His eyes are now a true blue, not his normal ice. He's open and honest and he wants her to tell him what's on her mind. Half of her wants to go. The half that still believes that someone can love her the way that all little girls believe. The other half is dead set against it. It's the half that is the dominatrix, the sex queen. The half that says that all she needs is control. But, she thinks, look how long I've done that. What real happiness has it ever brought me? Her form goes over to him, and immidiately, she begins to pour out her soul to him. She tells him about the conversation she had with Hank, and how his situation is hopeless. He comforts her the best he can; holding her and telling her that it's alright and that he'll live. She doesn't leave after she's done. She stays and cries on his shoulder. He doesn't complain. He can't anymore. He's dead and he's gone. * * * * * * * * * All characters are property of the Marvel Comics Group. I am not getting any money from this, so you can sleep safely. * * * * * * * * * WHEW! Serious stuff! Well, whaddya think? Wanna tell me? E-mail GenXMonet@aol.com. You may or may not get an anwer, that mailbox is buggin' too. Yes, Hawk, I don't know if you got my message, but the GenXMonet@aol.com is my mailbox now for the time being for all comments. MICE