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Rogue should have taken Steve's advice about the blue furry mutant man seriously. He was like Donkey Kong mixed with Cookie Monster. It was the craziest thing she had ever seen, and she had seen a rat man just a few days ago. But he also talked as if he was the smartest man in the world. He was currently giving her a rundown on what it meant to be a mutant, biologically. He was using words like gene and chromosome and RNA, all of which promptly flew over Rogue's head at the  speed of light.

"Doc," she interrupted him in her southern drawl, "I don't mean to be rude, but could ya get to the point? All this science mumbo jumbo makes about as much sense as latin."

"Oh, I can speak fluent Latin," the furry professor smiled broadly, but quickly moved on when it was clear that she wasn't going to be impressed no matter what he said. "Fine, fine. All this is just to tell you that I've discovered just how your powers work. The genes, as I was saying, have been supercharged. The way they rebuild themselves are unlike anything I've ever seen before. When you come in contact with another's genes, yours start to shape themselves to match, siphoning off any abilities the other person mid have."

"As well as their life," she muttered to herself. She didn't really care how her powers worked exactly. All she knew was that they hurt other people, that she would never be able to get close to anyone, and that she'd always hurt those she loved eventually. The science behind it didn't matter in the slightest.

"Yes," he put his head down and fiddled with his pawed hands. "That...I do not have an answer for. I know it's hard. Things are never easy for us. It is our blessing, and our curse, these abilities."

"Come on," she chuckled. "I can't touch people. At least you're fuzzy and cute."

He smiled warmly, "I understand. But there was once a time I felt as you do. That my abilities, my...differences were keeping me from living a normal life. That I would never be happy as long as I was different from everyone around me."

Hank McCoy rolled his chair over to his desk and deftly snatched up a picture frame sitting on it. He slid back towards her and handed it to Rogue, "Take a look."

She looked at it, before glancing up at the doctor. The similarities were hard to find, but they were there. The eyes, mostly. The same intelligent sparkle was in the picture and the mutant in front of her.  The way his glasses hung off his nose, and the wry smile were also similar. But it couldn't be.

"Ah, but it is me," he smile broadly, realizing what she was thinking without her having to say it. "I was so ashamed by my large hands and feet that I thought I could develop an anti-mutagen. A cure, if you will. All I wanted was to be normal. Instead I made myself even more abnormal. It took finding my way to Charles for him to show me a new purpose. A new way to help the next generation of mutants. So, I understand how you feel. But know that you too can be an inspiration. It just depends on what you do with your abilities."

She nodded, taking everything she said into herself.

"Thanks, doc. Hopefully I'll see you soon."

"So do I, dear," Hank McCoy smiled. "So do I."
[hr]
Steve sat in front of Xavier's desk, and Summers took a seat next to him. The young mutant was embarrassed he allowed Rogue to slip away from him so easily. Steve had attempted to ensure him it was no big deal, that kids would be kids, but there was a burning desire for leadership in that one. He was too focused on rigidity though. If Steve had the time he's walk him through the story of when Dugan and Bucky disobeyed a direct order and ended up capturing two Hydra tanks on their own.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen.

"We've done some digging while you were away and resting," Xavier started, sliding a file over to him. "The orphanage where Rogue was being held hadn't been used in two decades. The building was standing, but unoccupied and unowned. That is until a few months ago when a private equity firm bought the building and the land. We've been trying to untangle the web of funding, but so far we've only been able to find one company name in all of this."

Steve had to have a chuckle, "This is some real spy stuff, Charles."

"We have our ways, Captain," he smiled back. "In the folder you'll find information on Stagg Industries, a biotech and pharmaceutical company based in Hub City."

"Let me guess, they're working on mutations," Steve mused as he began to flip through the report.

"Not that we know of," Scott shook his head. "But considering they're the only lead we have, they're probably worth checking out."

"Guess I'm headed for Hub City," Steve shook his head. "I know it was a tough place before the war...and it doesn't sound like it's gotten much better."

"There's more," Charles winced as he flipped on the television. There scenes of the aftermath of his fight with the rat boy played out. Talking heads on the television were going on and on about how Steve Rogers, the former Captain America, had gone on a warpath for reasons unknown. There were discussions of sending SHIELD after him in a manhunt.

Steve couldn't say he was surprised. He knew that whoever had blown up the building had hoped for this exact reaction. But that was beside the point. They weren't going to frighten him out of action.

"That's certainly going to make things more difficult," Rogers rubbed his chin, the beard he was sporting starting to really fill in. "Especially travel."

"Well, we have an idea about that too," Xavier smiled.
[hr]
The small aircraft was rolled out of a back part of the hanger, Steve and Rogue both whistling at it as it did. It was smaller than the Blackbird, but still big enough for a mobile base. It was sleek, almost like a hawk in flight. Two jet engines on the back were paired with wing-based rotorblades that would allow it to hover silently. Inside were some beds, a small galley, and everything they needed to survive on the run.

"I call it the Quinjet," Hank McCoy showed off the craft, smiling like a proud parent. "Fast, maneuverable, and sure to get you out of any trouble you ever find yourself in."

"Sounds like you shouldn't be giving this away on a whim," Steve's eyebrow raised.

Scott, Hank, and Charles all gathered around him. Hank put his hand on the hero's shoulder, "Steve, someone is threatening mutants. And not only that, they're trying to take you down as well. I helped design this craft to help protect my people. In your hands, it's doing just that. I can't think of a better use of its time."

Rogers smiled, and blushed slightly. He would never be used to people treating him like a living saint. All he wanted to do was help, not be worshiped. But he couldn't deny that he appreciated the help. He and Rogue were going to need all that they could get.

"Thank you," he looked at the three mutant men. "All of you. I promise, I'm going to figure out what's going on here. And I won't forget all the help you gave me. I hope I can make you proud."

"Ugh," Rogue rolled her eyes. "Don't make me vom. Come on, old man. We got some bad guys to take down. Thanks for all the help, Chuck."

"Kids," Steve shook his head and followed the teenage mutant up the ramp onto the Quinjet.