Always a slave to rules, Brian recognized the severity of the situation and left Joe to set up his makeshift infirmary. He flew, literally, down to the locker room and changed at break-neck speeds, and was back up through the elevator before anyone else had even used it. Despite his swiftness, it was several minutes after he reached the first storey that he made his way out to the battle. There was chaos on the first floor, and he transported (physically) several bodies to the lower level before exiting the school. The drills and protocol and practice runs had apparently gone wasted on some people.
Once outside, the Brit closed his eyes to the pandemonium before him. So very much worse than inside. There was no comparing them. He surveyed the scene and realized the wall was buckling near the center tower. It came down, and the lines of fighters behind the wall braced themselves - some rushing forward. He only took a moment to watch what was happening before he leapt from his place and flew up into the air, coming down with a shaking thud beside his roommate and best friend. He crouched down into the landing and when he drew back up, he was swinging his fists and helping to keep the creatures off Piotr as well as away from the broken section of wall.
They were swarming him, however, and without the comfort of metallic skin, he was feeling every touch and bite and smell coming off them, and it was pissing him off. He wasn't one to lose his head in a fight - as a matter of fact, he couldn't recall a time he had lost his head over anything in recent memory. Standing there next to Colossus, with Wolverine and Sabretooth out before them tearing the creatures to shreds and shedding blood in a constant stream had its effect on him.
He was not only protecting his home and family, but one of the only shreds of hope they had that humanity might return to semi-normalcy in the future... The Cure.
It was a combination of these thoughts that led him to begin pushing forward instead of simply holding his position. The further they were from the school and his loved ones, the better. He moved in a flurry of punches and kicks, half the time with his feet off the ground. Each face he caught a glimpse of, each twisted, mutilated, biting face, made him sick with remorse and drudged up feelings of mourning and hate. As he fought, the rage built up within him and all concerns for strategy and teamwork left him. He was going to kill them all by himself, if he had to. For Hank.