I do not own X-Men anything.
And yes, despite it all, I still love Hank.
Once Upon a Time
"Da-ddy . . . Da-ddy . . . Wake up, Daddy . . ."
Something furry nuzzled his sleeping face.
Fur that wasn't his fur.
Mmm, fhxihrnifur-
A soft sweet voice in his ear, girlish, and very young.
Hank McCoy opened his eyes.
Orange pupil-ed eyes, that had no need of eyeglasses.
Prescription, anyway.
Those eyes that beheld . . .
"Good morning, Daddy!"
. . . his baby girl.
"Hey, pumpkin."
Dampled in morning sunlight and youth and hope.
Blue and furry and curiously-eyed, just like her daddy.
Smart as a whip and sweet and kind.
Just like . . .
"Hello, darling."
. . . her mother.
"Hey, Mommy!"
The feral girl-child, all of five and a half years old, clambered up onto the bed.
Grinding her daddy's kibbles and bits under an errant knee.
"Oof-"
And elbowing her mother's unbridled mammary glands-
"Ouch!"
-for good measure.
"Sorry."
But they loved her . . .
"It's okay."
"Just be gentle, honey."
. . . all the same.
She snuggled down between them, all sleep and sweet and uncombed fur.
And they cuddled her and kissed her.
"Morning."
"Good morning."
And greeted one another as well.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Mmm-hmm."
Perhaps not as ardently as they might have had the child not been present.
"I slept well too!"
"I know, we could hear you snoring."
"Daddy! I do not snore!"
But happily enough all the same.
"Well, how do you know? You were asleep!"
Confident child, more than he had ever felt.
"Because little girls do not snore."
"Mmh, is that so?"
"Yep! Would you make pancakes?"
The pancakes were delicious.
Full of syrup and sugar and butter.
And love.
Cut into the shapes of stars-
". . . and garters, you're going to be late for school!"
"Daddy, it's Saturday! Not even Professor X makes us go to school on Saturdays!"
. . . and other planetary bodies.
"Does he not?"
"Nope!"
Mild consideration over the fresh-squeezed orange juice.
"Well then, what should we do today?"
Wifely pat on the bottom as she edged past toward a second cup of Folgers.
"I'm in favor of going back to bed and getting some exercise."
Giggle from star-stuffed little mouth.
"Mommy, you don't exercise in bed!"
Lightly salacious wink not directed at the unassuming child.
"You can if you do it right."
Redirecting now toward the child.
"Finish up and go brush your fangs, baby girl."
When the child was gone, Hank McCoy's wife eased herself onto her husband's now seated lap, making him forget all about his own regularly-shaped pancakes.
"Have I told you this morning how much I love you?"
He grinned at her, gently twirling strands of her dark hair that had escaped its messy, quick bun.
"Not yet," he purred.
She smiled, dark eyes bright and mischievous even so early in the morning.
"Well, I do. I love you."
Even after all these years together, his heart warmed and swelled in his chest at the admonition.
"Say it again."
Smiling, amicable surresh.
"I love you, Hank. I love you more than I could ever tell you. And I'll love you every day of my life. Forever."
She ducked her head down to kiss him.
Him.
Hank McCoy.
The Beast.
The Freak.
The Weirdo.
The man.
"I love you too," he muttered through soft, sweet kisses. "I love you so much, -"
And then the alarm went off.
Just as it did every morning.
Jerking him out of sleep. And dreams.
Slamming him into a reality he had not asked for.
Had never asked for.
A reality . . .
Okay, I'm conscious.
. . . alone.
A blue-furred hand stole out from under the covers.
Pressed the 'off' button on the blasted thing.
Gifting him with silence once more.
Hank McCoy, Super Genius, lifted himself heavily off the mattress.
And sat himself on the edge of the bed.
That bed that was too empty.
And stared at the floor.
What day is it?
And looked at his watch.
Tuesday.
Okay.
And stood up.
Feral mutant beasts aren't really required to attend to their personal hygenie.
Who's going to tell them otherwise?
And Hank cut a decent enough swath that nobody would have really noticed anyway.
But it made him feel civilized to do it.
Human.
Good.
Well, better.
And so he did.
He showered, in human form so he wouldn't feel all frizzy and waterlogged all day.
Used deodorant in human form.
And brushed his teeth.
In human form.
Just because he could choose to.
Then he dressed himself neatly in whatever he found in the closet, organized by color . . .
I don't care what Jubilee says. That is not a color found in nature.
And no, it does not go with my eyes.
. . . and left the room.
Toast and orange juice jogged his brain along a little as Peter . . .
"Hey, man, did you know were out of Pepsi? I don't know who's in charge of the important stuff around here but Pepsi should be on some list or something-"
. . . Maximoff made a pass through.
And then he just stared out the window.
And prepared himself to face another day.
Alone.
But a member of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters . . .
"Hey, Professor-"
"Good morning."
"Hi, Dr. McCoy!"
"Good morning."
"Yo, Dr. Beast-"
"Hi again, Peter-"
. . . is never truly alone.
"Hank, may I see you in my study please?"
"Sure, Charles."
Not even when they want to be.
Hello, everyone! Long time, no see!
I've decided I'm going to try to span the gulf between Apocalypse and Dark Phoenix. And it's not going to be easy but I've decided to give it whirl.
Everybody's got opinions about these movies and I'm sure you do too.
Care to talk?
Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like. :)