Title: Best Gift Ever
Author: M. Edison
Archive: Please ask first.
Rating: PG
Category: Bobbyfic. Holidayfic.
Spoilers: A vague hint from the biggest one from X2.
Disclaimer: the X-Men, Iceman et al are the property of Marvel. .
Summary: On Mother's Day, what do you get the Mom who just found out her baby boy's a mutant?
Unbeta'd since Medie's on a deadline. (Had a wedding, completely forgot I had to finish this thing. G)
"Best Gift Ever"
by. M.
Lying on his bed, Bobby had a clear view of the calendar on his wall which meant he had a clear view of the dates on said calendar. He frowned in frustration and leaned back harder, pressing into the pillow.
With everything that had gone on with that General, it seemed kind of trivial to be worrying about what to get his mom for mother's day but he was and it wasn't - trivial, that was. It was the first Mother's Day since his mom had found out what her son was and, all of a sudden, choosing the perfect gift was a whole lot more complicated.
He sighed in frustration and got up from the bed. Lying around and brooding all day wasn't going to help much.
Besides, he was thirsty.
The idea of what to give his mother hit him when he poured himself a glass of soda and realized there was no ice. It was perfect, the perfect present from her son.
The one that just happened to be a mutant.
Question was, how did he make it work? This was one present he didn't want his mother cleaning up from the next day. She still loved telling people about the mud pie breakfast that he and Ronny had made years ago. The 'pie' had ended up decorating his mother's very new and very white carpet when Ronny had accidentally jostled him.
"Afternoon Bobby." Reaching past him, Scott took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and twisted the cap off. "You look like something's bothering you, Bobby - anything I can help with?"
The teen smiled slightly at his mentor. "Uhh . . . maybe. See there's this thing I want to do for Mom on Mother's Day and I think I'm going to need help to make it work." He looked morose. "After everything, I think I want to remind her I might be a mutant, but I'm still her son. I'm still just Bobby."
Scott's face briefly betrayed his grief but he took a deep breath and put on his best 'okay' expression, reminding himself the kids and their happiness would come before his own, just like always.
And, judging from what Rogue and Wolverine had told him, Bobby had been put through an emotional wringer of his own. Even before reuniting with the others . . . when he'd explained everything to his parents, explained what he was. Such a revelation had to have been traumatic . . . and having your younger brother phone the cops on you, Scott had a feeling it hadn't been the typical Drake family gathering. Throw Rogue, Wolverine, and Pyro into the mix and there couldn't have been a worse way for Bobby's parents to find out.
So, with a considerably more genuine smile, Scott nodded. "Sure, just tell me what you need and I'll see what I can do."
"Great," the youth responded with a relieved smile. "Cause I have no idea how this will work."
Mother's day was usually one of Madeline Drake's favorite days of the year. Usually. This time, she had to force herself out of bed, heart heavy with the knowledge that the day would be only half fulfilled.
Ronny would give her a card, one his father made him buy, and perhaps, deign to break with adolescent rebellion long enough to give her a hug and that would be it. He never celebrated any holiday a smidgen past what he was expected to and, even then, he had to be forced.
But Bobby . . . Bobby was the one who went all out, celebrating Mother's Day with a flare only he could manage. He made it a true holiday. So, knowing she was unlikely to hear from her eldest child this Mother's Day, she couldn't quite bring herself to summon any enthusiasm.
Like always, they had a quiet breakfast and then, Madeline settled down to enjoy the day in peace. Deep down, she knew there would be little of enjoying but she had a book and she would get through things with that.
"Madeline?"
Her gaze lifted from her book and Madeline looked up to see her husband standing in the doorway, a box in his hands. "What's that?" She asked, her brow furrowing with confusion.
He moved closer, setting it down on the coffee table with all the care in the world. "It's from Bobby."
Her confusion only deepened and she watched silently as he left the room. Bobby had sent her something? But . . . he couldn't have. After everything . . .
Moving like an automaton, she put her book aside, carefully marking her page, and edged forward. Whether it was great care or apprehension that urged her to slowly unfold the flaps and look inside.
A glass case greeted her eyes and, still confused, she reached in to ease it free of the box and setting it down on the coffee table before her.
Her mouth formed an 'o' of awe and she leaned forward, staring at the rose - perfectly formed right down to the stem and 'water' beads on the petals - suspended within the glass. How it was so, she didn't know, but it floated there - seemingly held up by nothing - looking as serene as it could.
Closer inspection told her it was an ice rose and a thought occurred to her, a thought which made her check the box one more time.
Lying at the bottom was a white envelope. Madeline couldn't help it but her hand shook as she lifted it out and slid the flap up.
A beautiful card, hand painted, slid out and, when she opened it, the only inscription inside was a simple . . .
"I'm still me - you're still you. You're my Mom - Love Bobby."
Madeline laughed a little, beginning to cry, as she brushed a fingertip across her son's scrawled signature. "I love you too, sweetheart." She murmured quietly, her voice so low it was nearly inaudible.
Catching sight of Bobby's handwriting on the back, she turned the card over and her laughter increased.
"P.S. Hope you like the rose - made it myself. Far cry from the pie, huh? Happy Mother's Day, Mom."
Madeline's laughter grew shaky and her tears threatened again. "Thank you, Bobby . . . " She touched the glass, feeling cold beneath her fingers, and imagined the rose taking shape beneath her son's hands. Her son's hands.
A gift from Bobby, any gift, was easily the best Mother's Day present she could ever have. "But I would have settled for the pie."
Finis
