It was to be expected, thought Charles as he gazed at the ceiling of his study, that something would have gone wrong while they were springing Erik from prison.

Of course, the one something he wasn't prepared for was Pietro – Quicksilver, the boy preferred – being turned into a three-year-old by a disguised mutant that Logan hadn't knocked out in time.

Charles sighed and closed his eyes, acutely, almost painfully, aware of how irritating his next few days were going to be. The nearly unbearable prickling sensation creeping up his spine was now the only reminder of his forsaken medicine; he knew his powers were needed and had taken his quiet time to push the new barrage of voices inside his head to the edges of his awareness.

Erik… Charles reached out with his mind, only just brushing the other man's consciousness. Erik hadn't tried to escape or kill anyone so far, a fact for which Charles was extremely grateful; though he still wasn't entirely comfortable with the man's presence, he couldn't deny that he would prefer Erik's help with his current…condition than Logan or Hank's. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but just thinking about the man now making his way towards the study made Charles flush uncomfortably.

The telepath's eyes flicked to the door as Erik slid into the room and quietly shut the pair of them inside. Immediately turning his eyes to the far corner, Charles ignored the knot forming in his gut and spoke quietly.

"I'm going to…need some assistance." It took nearly all of Charles's control to hide the pink tinge he knew was fighting to creep onto his cheeks, but he pushed himself into an awkward sitting position and waited for Erik to return from the closet with his chair. The thing was slightly dusty, so Erik ran his hands over its brushed metal surface a few times to dislodge most of the traces of disuse.

"Are you sure about this, Charles?" Erik's voice was low as he knelt beside Charles, still stubbornly refusing to look his old friend in the face. That voice hit just the right frequency to send of all Charles's heartstrings thrumming; he had nearly forgotten what that silken baritone could do to him, until Erik crashed back into his life and brushed clean the good memories just as he had the bad.

"Of course I'm not sure," Charles snapped, crossing his arms as he reminded himself that it was Erik's fault he was in this position in the first place. "Just help me in there, would you?"

Erik rolled his eyes but obliged, carefully supporting the bulk of Charles's weight as the man shuffled and winced his way into the chair. After allowing himself a moment for the pain in his back to subside, Charles glanced up at Erik and took a deep breath.

"So, how bad it is?"

Erik tilted his head slightly. "How bad is what?"

"Quicksilver."

"Ah. Well-" As if on cue, an enormous crash followed by a high-pitched wail sounded from the floor above, causing both men to flinch in sympathy just as much as surprise.

"I believe that'll be Hank," the young professor all but sighed as he pushed the double doors to the study open. Erik followed him into the entryway, raising his eyebrows slightly as a small, faintly silver blur shot down and back up the sweeping double staircases leading to the upper floors. The blur was soon followed by Hank, who was soaked from head to toe and brandishing a table leg like a medieval mace.

"You destructive little bastard! I'm gonna string you up by your hairless little- Professor!" The young man stopped dead at the top of the stairs and ran a hand through his hair, which was currently a deep shade of blue that clashed horribly with his now beet red forehead.

Charles couldn't help but quirk a wry smile in Hank's direction. "I see our little guest has gotten into some trouble."

"He smashed the big fish tank!"

"The one-hundred and fifty gallon one?" Erik chimed in.

Hank nodded, apparently too overcome for words.

"Damn. I liked that tank."

"You're tellin' me," Hank growled. "I had to put the fish in the bathtub with some saltwater tablets, and they won't like that at all…"

Logan chose this opportune moment to clomp down the staircase opposite Hank, Quicksilver perched happily on his hip. The bulky man, who had been sleeping judging by the state of his hair, raised one eyebrow, peeved as usual. "Did you lose something?"

Quicksilver giggled at Hank's incredulous spluttering, but quickly buried his head into Logan's neck as the blue-haired man waggled the chair leg like an old schoolmarm and began giving the child a tongue-lashing of a lifetime.

Erik hid his chuckles behind his hand, and even Charles couldn't control the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. Perhaps, he thought as Quicksilver wriggled from Logan's grasp and appeared on the other side of the room with Hank's makeshift weapon held aloft in triumph, this little terror is exactly what they all needed…

Please ignore any horrible OOCness… This will probably be continued, because I just love this idea and they're all just so awkward and adorable. Also, I know Quicksilver is Peter in DoFP and not Pietro, but I like that name more, so there-

Disclaimer: X-Men and any related characters do not belong to me. Nor does the cover image. I own only the idea and my writing, I suppose.

Enjoy~!