Title: 'Til Thanksgiving

Setting: Earth 616 – mostly X-mansion Westchester, New York

Genre: Revisionist Satire
Time-Frame: X-infernus #1 Soul Survivors pub. Dec 2008
Rating: K+
Summary: The X-Institute accepts a reluctant new student

Notes: This fic reads a bit like a train wreck – but I like it anyway

Inspired by: Rowena's 2008 Holiday Challenge on the Nightscrawlers fan site

'Til Thanksgiving

Five hours into the drive it occurred to Shane Edwards that a return trip, say just to drop in for visit, wouldn't be easy. That's about when the panic set in. He glanced first at his father's squared shoulders, hands at ten and two on the wheel, and then over at his mother watching the landscape go by, features composed as always. He nervously licked his lips.

"Dad?" he ventured after a moment or so, voice wobbling a bit. "Dad, how long before I see you and mom again?

His father peered back at him through the rearview mirror, one eyebrow just clearing the rim of his spectacles. "Now son," he said, "The whole point of boarding school is to be on your own for a bit. You don't want Mother and me around all the time, we'd cramp your style. We'll see you over break, at Thanksgiving."

Shane wasn't sure he had any style to be cramped, whatever that meant, but he didn't think he should say so. The trouble was he was homesick already and they hadn't even crossed the New York border yet. There was no way he'd last until Thanksgiving. It was a whole month away!

Sitting back in his seat with a disbelieving groan, he was suddenly aware of something tugging on his sleeve. He looked over at his baby sister, Lucy, who used her free hand to take the lollipop she was sucking on out of her mouth. It glistened moistly with her spit.

"Lolly?" she asked, offering it to him.

"No. Ew." He said shortly and leaned back in his seat again, this time with his arms crossed in front of him.

"Don't worry bub, the time will go by before you know it."

This time Shane glanced to his other side, at a barrel-chested man with an unlit cigar hanging out of his mouth. The man winked at him before addressing his father.

"Hey Pops, any chance we can make a pit stop? I gotta piss somethin' fierce."

Mr. Edward's hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw and didn't say a thing.

"We most certainly will not!" Mrs. Edwards, who was an English teacher, exclaimed turning around in her seat. "You should have thought of that before we left the restaurant, you dirty, little man. And," she added noticing the cigar, "take that nasty thing out of your mouth this instant!"

The man, who was as short as a barrel too, sat back mumbling under his breath and removed the cigar from between his teeth, tucking it into a front pocket of his plaid red shirt.

"Hey kid," he said turning back in Shane's direction, but speaking over his head. "That sucker still available?"

Lucy nodded and made a popping sound as she pulled the candy out of her mouth. Shane made a face as the exchange was made in front of him.

Only two more hours to go.