When Scott Met Annie

Chapter 4: A Doctor, Not A Jail

Anton Wright was used to crowds parting for him. He'd been living in Anchorage for a couple years now, ever since his wife had asked him to look for a job closer to where her baby sister was living alone — the woman was a mother hen sometimes — but he could still get a room to empty as fast as when he'd first arrived and was terrifying and new. He was, first and foremost, big, black, and broad. Six feet, six inches, at least 250 pounds, though with his sister-in-law staying over more nights than not and paying rent with ridiculously over-the-top cooking spreads, he was sure he was going to be pushing 350 by summer's end. He was pointedly not checking the scale.

So when he got to Pammy's bar and shot a glare at the group of men getting rowdier and drunker than a Tuesday night called for further down at one of the corner booths, they quieted down.

He'd arrested half of those men or better since he'd gotten to Alaska.

He kept half an eye on the bunch of men as he got to the bar, and Pammy already had his usual Jack Daniels waiting for him when he spotted the run-down guy at the far end half leaned against the wall and looking all kinds of beat down.

Yeah, there was definitely some kinda trouble there.

With a sigh, he grabbed his drink and headed down until he dropped into the seat next to the guy. It took him all of about five seconds to identify him — no uniform, but the big ol' red band gave it away. He used to work in bigger cities than Anchorage, and half the Atlanta force had been pissed off about the X-Men, mutants in general, that big fight on registration — you name it, they were pissed about it. Not that the police in Anchorage weren't that way — he'd had more than his share of problems joining the force looking like he did, and he'd heard "at least he ain't a mutie" at least nine times as an argument for his fellow officers to accept him and quit with the hazing. Which didn't sit well with him. But the bigger cities at least had the excuse of getting destroyed in the superhero fights half the time.

But whatever his views on the whole thing — that was Cyclops sitting at the end of the bar, clearly coming off the wrong end of some kind of fight. There was a warrant out for the guy, sure, but Anton had his own set of rules, drilled into him by the way his own dad had raised him. First and foremost was he wasn't gonna arrest anybody who looked like you could push 'em over with a feather until he'd at least found out if the guy needed a hospital more than he needed handcuffs.

He was still wary, though, as he sat down. "You alright?" he asked in a low tone, surprised when Cyclops just turned his way and gave him a weary smile.

"I'll be fine," the guy said. "Just waiting to use the phone, and I promise I'll get out of your hair."

Anton chuckled. "I ain't the bouncer."

Cyclops shook his head. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah, it's alright," Anton said, still smirking to himself, though as he took a long drink of Jack Daniels, he could see the fact that the famous supposed terrorist was shaking slightly with the effort of holding himself upright. He frowned. That was a serious hurt. "You want me to call an ambulance? Bar ain't exactly the best place to heal up."

"I'll be fine," Cyclops said again, his tone far more tired that anybody had any right to sound.

"Yeah, I'mma call you an ambulance," Anton said, getting up to leave before he paused and waved Pammy over. "Hey, you take this guy's order, put it on my tab."

"You really don't have to do that," Cyclops said. "I told you — I'm fine."

"Don't nobody believe that lie," Anton said, shaking his head. "Didya eat yet?"

Cyclops paused a worryingly long amount of time before he shook his head.

Anton nodded. Yeah, he wasn't going anywhere until he was sure he wasn't about to have a body on his hands. "Pammy's got the hottest fire wings in town if you're up to it. Tell 'er to hold the sauce if you ain't. Not much else to eat 'round here, but it's better'n starvin'." He waved his cell phone. "I'mma call the hospital up."