Hello! I have been quite ill lately, so that explains the delay between chapters. Apologies.
Thanks to kataract52 for the insightful review. Your words keep me motivated and provide me with critical thinking as well. Thank you again!
Please read, enjoy and review, review, review, my friends!
-Maria
Episode 7: Sticks and Stones and Broken Bones
"Hey, sorry I'm late," a tall redhead stated, walking in the front door which immediately vanished behind her. "Has the cartoon started yet?"
Rachel Grey-Summers was expertly managing a heavy diaper-bag while carrying a handsome two-almost-three-year-old boy with bits of straw-blond hair sticking out of his white polar bear hat.
Rachel was followed closely by her best friend, Kitty Pryde, and Meg Summers, Rachel's half-sister. Both women were armed to the teeth with diaper-bags and "young mom" apparel right down to their yoga pants.
They carried babies up in their arms too. Kitty held a tiny baby of eight months old (easily the youngest kid there) wearing a furry cap with the pointy ears of a lynx.
Meg's daughter was the exact age (down to the minute) of Rachel's boy David. Little Isabelle Summers-LeBeau was a very pretty child with her rosy cherubic cheeks and a shock of white hair only a shade lighter than her golden curls. Isa laughed and waved her arms around in her happy way; on her hat she wore the tall ears of a bunny.
"Cartoons? Really?" Cable scoffed at his half-sister Rachel as she approached him. "Aren't you leader of the X-Men now?"
"That doesn't mean I can't still watch cartoons. Don't be such a dusty old fart," Rach replied with a laugh, planting a kiss on the cheek of her "big little brother" as she often called Nate. Rachel had him beat age-wise by three years, but he had a good foot-and-a-half on the redhead, tall as she was. She had to levitate telekinetically to give him a peck. "You're starting to sound a lot like Dad."
Well, that shut up Nate, who scowled angrily to himself as he took his little nephew David out of her arms. Such a grim expression, especially on such an imposing figure, would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but Rach just grinned. The Summers siblings were very close, but no one could push Nate's buttons and get away with it quite like Rachel could.
"And also don't scold children for being dramatic, Nathan, when you're the biggest drama-queen of them all," Kitty added, draping little Robbie's diaper-bag over one of Nate's massive shoulders before handing off the little mite to his daycare teacher.
Nate's frown turned tenderly to a smile as he gazed down into the baby's soulful amber-brown eyes set in a round, inquisitive, innocent little face. Nate wasn't the first to notice the marked difference between Robert Pavel Rasputin and his father, the X-Man known as Colossus. Robbie didn't resemble his mother much either, but then it was hard to tell sometimes with very small babies. Nate knew Rob's appearance would change as he aged. Nate himself had been a spindly little beanpole until he hit fourteen and then seemed to shoot up a yard overnight.
Nate's smile turned somewhat sad as he gazed from Robbie cradled in one massive arm to David lying quietly in the crook of his other elbow. Rachel's young son was almost three, but he seemed far more helpless than even little Robbie. Even at his age, David had yet to take his first steps.
His cousin Isa was a different story. Nate's younger half-sister Meg had to reach up high and stand on her tiptoes to hand her daughter over to Cable. (Meg had resolutely stopped growing taller when she was twelve; she had inherited zero of the Summers' height genes Rachel, Nate and their other half-sister, Ruby, flaunted.) Nate could easily manage holding three small children at once, but as he reached for Isa, the little girl let out a squeal of pure wicked glee. Nate's little niece scurried up as nimbly as a squirrel to sit on her uncle's broad shoulder.
"Isabelle, get down from there!" Meg snapped, outraged at her daughter's behavior. Prim and pretty Meg Summers wanted her girl to be a perfect little lady.
Good luck with that ... Nate thought wryly as Isa scampered lightly from one of his shoulders to the other. That kid had too much LeBeau blood in her veins to settle down and be a good, quiet child.
Isa rolled off of Nate's giant frame and landed like a cat on the floor at his feet. Then she ran, getting lost in the crowd with Meg hollering futilely after her daughter. Isa loved to run and jump and climb with the dexterity of a toddler ninja.
Those LeBeau kids, Nate thought, shaking his head. If that girl didn't wind up in the infamous Thieves Guild, which her grandfather Remy LeBeau had long been a part of, Nate would be very surprised.
Unlike her rather shy and reclusive mom, Isa was also a social butterfly. The girl flitted from group to group of kids and adults alike.
"My name's Isha and I'm free years old!" she chirped cheerfully to anyone who would listen.
She had a difficult time making her chubby hand hold up three fingers. Nate humorously found it strange how his little niece had the reflexes of a cat burglar, but couldn't do this simple thing.
Joe was rolling around again in a blinding (and blinded) blur. Though not as fast as Joe, Isa was quick, but also cautious and she dodged the boy with deft agility, sending Joe crashing into poor Nick yet again.
This time, Nick didn't fare so well. The boys rocketed into a bookshelf, spilling Green Eggs and Ham and the Berenstain Bears in every direction.
Horrific pain shot up Nick's leg like a white-hot lightning-bolt. Gasping, too scared and shocked to scream, he fought the urge to vomit as all the children and grownups raced to help him.
"He's hurting! Going into shock!" Mel shouted, her face contorted with sympathy. "We gotta help him!"
"Broken bone. Looks it," Becka confirmed, sniffing Nick's injury thoroughly. "Smells it too. Splint, stat."
The conjoined twins did something very strange then ... They separated. Each of their heads had its own body now. Nick thought in his extreme pain he was seeing things that weren't actually happening.
Becka, now with two hands of her very own, constructed a splint in mere seconds from Popsicle sticks and school-glue.
"How is our patient?" she barked at Mel.
Mel, compliant for once to her sister's brisk and bossy tone, replied: "Awful state of pain. 10 out of 10, I'd say. A mega-frowny-face on the pain ratio. He can't hold on much longer until he passes out."
"Am I going to die?" Nick asked faintly as he swam in and out of consciousness. He had no idea he could hurt this badly; the worst pain he had ever experienced before was when he broke his pinkie toe when he accidentally slammed it into a door-frame.
"Hmm, the probability of that is unlikely," Becka replied.
"But he feels like he is!" Mel snapped.
"What one is feeling and what is actually happening can be quite different, sister," Becka said coolly.
As they argued, the twins suddenly, in a haze of light, rejoined into one body with two bickering heads. They didn't seem to notice because they were quarreling so loudly.
Isabelle watched the proceedings with calm attentiveness. The small girl then placed her pudgy hand on Nick's calf and, suddenly, the pain ebbed away, gradually at first until it was all gone.
Nick was so amazed and dizzy with relief, he couldn't even speak or notice as Becka and Mel's shared hands deftly set, splint and bandaged his broken leg.
"T-Thank you ..." he finally stammered out.
Isa nodded, her curls bobbing. "My name is Isha and I'm free years old," she stated gravely. She held out two fingers, but her ring finger stayed stubbornly down. She pried it up and held them out proudly to Nick.
Nick knew he was still injured because he couldn't move his foot or wiggle his toes, but he was in no pain. He smiled gratefully at Isa as the twins finished his makeshift first-aid.
"Isa, dear God!" Meg cried, pushing through the throng of people gathered around Nick. The young mother snatched up her child, casting a fearful glance at the injured boy. She was holding Isa close to her breast and shooting Nick terrified looks like he was going to harm her daughter. He was both puzzled and indignant by her actions.
Nick glanced over his shoulder to see his father glaring at Meg with the same bemused expression of consternation.
Me boy's injured. Jus' what the 'ell do you think he'll do? the usually even-tempered Jono growled telepathically at the beautiful blond woman.
Meg blushed enough to hide the freckles on her face. The reclusive young psychic hated confrontations of any kind even more than Jono did, but her kid was presently in danger ... and it was Nick's fault whether he knew it or not.
Hold on, everyone - I can explain, Rachel Summers' brisk businesslike telepathic "voice" rang out through everyone's head.
Just whose apparatus do you think this is, Carrots? Nate psychically berated his half-sister, calling her by one of his many nicknames for her (this one in reference to her bright mane of tresses) she positively loathed.
Oh, take a chill-pill, little brother, she replied glibly.
Rach hovered up over the crowd and levitated down to stand face-to-face with Jono. He'd never known her very well, only coming into contact with her when the X-Men called upon him to use his mutant powers to protect himself and others. She was certainly not a friend; even calling her an acquaintance was a bit of a stretch, but Jono knew Phoenix (as Rachel was often called) by her curly hair the color of fire and her wild facial tattoos as bold as the stripes of a tiger.
She had the take-charge attitude of a leader which suited the field commander of the X-Men as well as the eldest child of Cyclops, the longtime and now retired general of the team of mutant heroes.
"Isabelle has an acute form of empathy," she explained to Jono while placing a gentle hand on Meg's shoulder. "She subconsciously seeks out those in ... pain," Rachel said delicately with a glance down at Nick who met her gentle blue gaze with his own wide-eyed stare.
His astonished and somewhat fearful thoughts at her striking appearance were extremely apparent to Phoenix, a very talented and powerful telepath. But she didn't need psychic powers to tell her that her tattoos could be a bit much to those who didn't know her - especially small kids. And she tried not to feel too self-conscious about it.
"Isa seeks to eliminate the pain of others by telepathically blocking pain sensors in a victim's brain," Rachel continued.
Isa quietly sucked her thumb as her aunt talked, watching Nick gravely. Jono nodded, but he still felt confused by Meg's reaction and indignant of her treatment of Nick.
"But there's a catch ..." Nate said, shouldering his way towards them, still holding David and little Rob in his arms. He glowered a bit at Rach. It was so like his older half-sister to steal the show from him; in fact, he was amazed she had shown this much restraint in taking charge of his daycare.
"Isa unconsciously takes on the trauma she alleviates," Meg muttered. The blond woman bit her bottom lip and scowled terribly, holding her small daughter close to her chest. "Though it might not affect her immediately, it will impact her at some point. Tonight or tomorrow ..." she explained with a sigh. "Your son's incredible pain will manifest in her as if she herself sustained his injury."
Isa removed her thumb from her mouth and held up three finger at Jono. "Free years old," she murmured, nodding.
Jono's eyes widened. He understood now and he only felt sympathy for the girl's young mother. He regretted feeling any hostility towards Meg. Of course, she would feel resentment at Nick - he was causing her daughter to suffer. Unintentionally, but still ...
Jono had only personally known his son for a few months, but he knew without question that he would do anything to protect the boy from harm.
"Let's get out of here, Rach," Meg hissed to her half-sister, clutching Isa tighter until the girl whimpered, obviously wanting to stay with the other children.
"Meggie!" Rachel and Kitty cried together as Meg headed for what-had-been the front door.
"There is too much danger here!" Meg shot back over her shoulder at the two women. "Too many chances for Isa to get hurt. I have to protect my daughter ..." These last words were uttered with a slight crack in her voice. Meg hastily scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her wrist.
"Meggie, stop!" Rachel commanded her.
Meg spun around, her long white-blond hair whipping around her face. She looked as defiant as she did beautiful, a spitting image of her mother, Emma Frost.
Meg Frost-Summers could be as sweet and demure as they come, but in a temper she'd be willing to face down even the formidable Kitty Pryde.
Said Ms. Pryde was stalking down Meg as she headed for the exit - or what had been the entrance - to the treehouse.
"This could very well be Isa's best chance for survival, Meg," Kitty said patiently, but put a firm hand on Meg's shoulder. Meg shrugged her hand angrily off, but she sniffled, showing her heart wasn't in a fight - especially with Kitty of all people. "The best chance for all these kids," Kitty explained in gentler tones now.
You were the first person to sense the terrible danger they're all in, Meggie, Rachel sent a telepathic message to her little half-sister. And you were the first to propose what measures we could take to protect these children.
"And if you think you've got it bad worrying over Isabelle, it can't be much worse than what I'm going through," Kitty said flatly, but there was a wry smile playing around the lips on her pretty face. "Remember, Isa is almost three years old and street-smart as an alley cat. My Rob is only eight months old today."
The icy resolve in Meg's blue eyes began to thaw a bit as she looked around at her friends and family.
"This is for the best," Rach pleaded. "Please trust me, Meggie."
"And me as well," Nate suggested.
Meg smiled at Phoenix. She had idolized her big half-sister since infancy and trusted her implicitly. However, she turned a far more severe gaze on her half-brother, Nate.
"Never give me a reason not to, Nate," she murmured, leveling Cable with her own ice-blue glare. She, Nate and Rachel all shared the same father, but it was moments like these that reminded Nate of just who Meg's mother was.
Nate nodded. His little half-sister was one of the few people on Earth he showed the utmost deference towards.
Cable felt a tug at his trousers. "What is it, son?" he asked Joe who was gazing up curiously at the giant man.
"I gotta few more questions," Joe proclaimed, flicking another wad of bright-orange earwax off his fingertip. The sticky nugget landed between Locke's eyes and the boy licked it off like it was nougat. "Do we havtah flush here? Do we havtah wipe?" Joe demanded.
"My, my, so many questions!" Nate laughed. "No worries, my boy. All your queries will be put to rest. Because you are a kid and what do kids love?"
"Grand theft auto!" Joe shouted happily in response.
"Uhhh ... no. Cartoons. The answer is cartoons," Nate replied, looking somewhat dumbfounded. He glanced around at Rachel and mouthed the word "What?" to his half-sister.
Phoenix was trying to keep a straight face during this exchange, but eventually she and Kitty burst out laughing. Nate just looked so funny. And if Rachel Summers loved anything it was a joke at her "big little brother's" expense.
"Just shut up, Nate, and start the cartoon!" she said with a lopsided grin.
Next time: Here comes Crazy Billy!
