This was so not how Bobby wanted to meet Captain America. But there he was, in all his patriotic splendor, looking every inch the impressive hero of legend and asking him, Bobby Drake, runaway, truant, unregistered mutant, a question he couldn't begin to answer.
He did try. He opened his mouth, eyes already as wide as they could go by the time Captain. America. had crossed the lawn straight to him. And then he freaked. He had dropped to his knees, one arm supporting the girl out cold, the other hand stroking and patting her face and strange hair with chilled fingers in a vague and totally directionless attempt to wake her before something really awful happened. Like, oh, an Avenger demanding explanations. With nowhere to go and no excuses ready, Bobby groaned and clutched the girl tightly to his chest while ice encased them both, solid and gleaming, hard as steel and sharp as glass. Goawaygoawaygoaway we didn't do anything!