Today was a day to celebrate, to unwind and not worry about saving the world or anything like that.

The bar was loud, lively, music blasting through that old jukebox in the corner.

And Scott? He was enjoying himself, just like everyone else was. What could he say? Seeing everyone so happy and carefree—it made a smile come to his face.

Besides, what kind of leader would he be if he didn’t allow his team to relax every once in a while?

He glanced around the bar, his visor casting everything in red. Ororo and Logan were dancing close to where the music was coming from, Hank was chatting up some woman at the end of three bar who, honestly, looked intrigued with his whole beastly-blue look, and—

His’s eyes shifted from his team, to two individuals, his smile faltering as he watched one hand the other a healthy amount of cash, the duo slipping into one of the back rooms.

And Scott being, well..Scott, he decided to check it out.

He hoisted himself off the stool, leaving his bottle of beer behind, making his way over to the door.

A simple shake of the handle was all it took to open it, and he stepped through, boots thudding against the concrete floor.

Not very secure… His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he closed the door behind him quietly, not wanting it to slam and draw attention to himself.

He made his way through the place, it was pretty…looked like a simple storage place.

Until he heard cheering and shouting, coming from a doorway down the hall. Should he have gotten the others? Probably, but Scott was capable of dealing with whatever was beyond that doorway.

Until he walked through…

It was some kind of…fight club. A mutant fight club, no less. An unpleasant smell hit his nose, a mix of booze, blood, vomit..whatever it was, it had his nose scrunching.

Down the stairs he went, boots clanking against the metal stairs as his eyes swept over the crowd. There were people placing bets, drinking, arguing…his jaw clenched, hands moving into the pockets of his coat.

Then his eyes landed on the cage, his mouth opening slightly as he looked at the mutant inside. Was obvious they were a mutant—and by the collar that was snug around their neck? He assumed they weren’t a willing participant in this whole thing…

“Just your luck, Scott…” he muttered to himself, eyes narrowing behind his visor.

He was supposed to be relaxing, enjoying a drink with his team—with his friends. But he just had to get curious, didn’t he?