Yep, another X-Men story. This one is a sequel to Firelocks, and it takes place in the beginning of 1963, a couple of months after First Class and ten years before Days Of Future Past.

Enjoy!

PS: It's a multi-chapter story, but it takes a while to write chapters (partly because school has begun again) so if you could be a little patient, that'd be splendid :)

"Dad. Dad. Dad, please."

I was nearly begging by then, but the only response I got was a muffled moan.

I was standing in the doorway to Charles' room, on the second floor of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters – my father's school, in case you didn't know that yet. I had been in that school for a couple of months, now, and it wasn't going quite well.

About a week ago, the war in Vietnam got worse. Many of the teachers – and most of the students as well – were taken away from the school and had to fight. The only friends that were left, were Sean (my boyfriend) and Hank.

And now Sean had disappeared as well.

That was what I wanted to talk about to Charles, but that wasn't easy, for he was lying on the carpet in the middle of his room, limbs spread, staring at the ceiling like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

He had drunk again, I knew that. He did that quite a lot, especially since last week.

I couldn't blame him; he was sad, and he drunk to forget about what he had lost.

Raven, the girl who had been like a sister to him since he was a little boy.

Erik, one of his best friends – or so he thought.

Moira, whose memory had to be wiped so that she didn't know anything about the 'Cuba incident', and every moment before that. I didn't really like her, for she was the one who had fired the bullet that had paralyzed Charles, even though Erik was the one who had deflected it.

His ability to walk.

His students.

Most of his friends.

And now, as a last thing, he had also lost his powers.

It was because of some serum Hank had made for him; it gave him his legs back, but he couldn't use his telepathy anymore. Which was quite a bad thing, because Sean had disappeared, and I had no idea how to find him.

"Dad, come on. I need to talk to you," I tried, walking into the room.

The broken man on the carpet shook his head.

"No," he said, his voice hoarse. "Go away, Luka. Leave me alone."

I sighed, sitting down next to him, cross-legged like I always did. I wasn't planning on going away.

"Dad, please," I said. "I-I need your help. Sean is missing, and I have no idea where to look for him."

Charles turned around to face me, propping himself up on one elbow. "You are asking me to use Cerebro?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He sighed, sweeping a lock of greasy hair out of his face – I wondered how long ago he had showered for the last time. Probably days ago.

He looked at me with his greyish-blue eyes. They seemed less blue than earlier; another thing that had changed about him, I thought.

Then he shook his head.

"I am sorry, Luka," he said, looking away. "I am not going to use my powers. That part of my life is over. I... I am not the man I used to be."

I stood up, pinching my jaws on each other.

"Yeah, I can see that," I muttered, hoping that he hadn't heard me. Apparently, he hadn't, or he just didn't care.

After glancing one last time at him, I walked away, but as soon as I had reached the hallway, I collapsed against the wall, tears leaking from my eyes.

Sean was gone.

My own father refused to help me.

No one else could help me.

Sean could be dead.

He could be dead, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I had never felt more helpless, perhaps maybe when Charles was shot and I couldn't get to him. It was some sort of a shared first place on my list of most horrible things that had ever happened to me.

As I sat there on the floor, my face hidden in my knees so that nobody could see how ugly I was when I was crying, the reality suddenly seemed to fade. I knew what was happening; I was having a vision.

In case you didn't know about it yet, I had the special (and kinda weird) ability to see the future. Unfortunately, it didn't really work like it had to work, which resulted in having visions at the weirdest moments.

Like, at that moment.

Blue-greenish fabric. It was smooth and plastic-like; I knew that just by looking at it.

Something important was happening. When I just got visions without even trying to, it was always important.

I wanted to look up, but a bright, white light blinded me. As I blinked against it, trying to see more but failing, I turned back to reality.

I cursed under my breath, frustrated.

This had something to do with Sean, I just felt it.

It was so stupid that my visions were always pieces of a puzzle, that seemed to fit exactly at the important moment. The last time the puzzle pieces fit, it was too late. Charles had already been shot then, and I couldn't do anything. I wasn't planning on letting the same thing happen to Sean.

I just needed to find him.

Which wasn't going to be easy, because Charles refused to use Cerebro and my visions were just fucking vague. It was so damn frustrating that even my thoughts started to swear.

Sighing, I got to my feet and hoped that I didn't look like crap – which I usually looked like when I had just cried.

I just had to accept the fact that I had to figure this out on my own.

With that thought, I walked away, towards my room, trying to ignore the horrible feeling that had nestled itself under my skin.