Chicago, 1920
"Kitten, come on." Victor sighed as he fumbled with his tie. Damn stupid clothes. He felt like he was choking.
"You've tied it all wrong," Charlie smiled up at him as she approached then tied his tie. Once she was pleased with his appearance, she said, "There, my love. You look positively dangerous."
"Good. Let's go." Victor put an arm around her waist and led her out to the car. He glared dangerously at any man who dared to look at his mate while simultaneously swelling with pride at how she looked. His mate could give any man a run for his money and no woman held an ounce of the attraction for him. She had helped get their club up and running and she was part of the reason as to why it was such a money maker.
When they arrived at their club, Victor gave his kitten a slow and tempting kiss, his tongue making a lazy sashay around her mouth. He wasn't one for such overt public displays of affection but every night he made it a point to show who she belonged to.
"Careful, Mr. Creed." He rumbled deep in his chest when she said his name. "If you continue to tease me, I'm afraid you won't get any work done tonight."
"It'd be damn worth it." Victor squeezed her backside before releasing her to deal with the gentlemen waiting for their liquor. The probition of alcoholic beverages had a successful reaction for their club. Charlie, with the seductive predatory attributes of Lynx, was a fantastic hostess. No man could resist her.
Memories flooded my mind at every moment of the day, leaving me with a distinct ache in my chest. Victor may have been rough, crude, bossy, and a liar but I had no doubt that he cared for me. And I was starting to realize that, in the past at least, I did love him. Deeply. Lynx was missing him as well, howling internally for him. It was too late now. Rejection couldn't be reversed.
I watched my daughter as she poured imaginary tea for her stuffed animals and imaginary friend that were gathered around the picnic table outside. There was snow on the ground but she didn't seem to notice or care. Her blue peacoat and scarf were wrapped tightly around her, with earmuffs and a hat to help secure body heat. Bright green gloves covered her hands. Dark curls were held away from her face with a red ribbon and she glanced at me with blue grey eyes. Her skin looked like porcelain and from a distance, she did look like a perfect doll. There was so much of Victor in her features, from the way she smiled widely to the thick lashes that framed her eyes. The tips of her ears were slightly pointed, much like a cat's and she had claws that barely passed her fingertips.
"No, Nixie. You have to wait your turn." Roxanne chastised her imaginary friend. She was lonely and it was obvious. The other children on our street had always been open to her mutation and to being friends but their parents poisoned their minds. Now they ran from her and called her names. Nixie arrived shortly after her third birthday. Today, her fourth birthday, would be celebrated by ourselves.
"Roxanne, it's time to come in." I called to her. She collected a beige puppy, one that had the obvious look of being loved, and ran toward me. "We've got to go to your doctor and then we will open your presents."
"Can Nixie come with us?" Roxanne asked me. "She likes to ride in the car."
"Of course," I took her hand and led her to the car, buckling her into her seat. Today she would receive several shots but as I promised we would come home and celebrate.
Dr. Patterson was one of the few pediatricians in town that had no prejudice against mutants and Roxanne adored him. She was healthy and growing like a weed and we waited for Dr. Patterson to join us in the examination room.
"How are you doing today, Charlotte?" He asked, checking Roxanne's breathing with his stethoscope.
"Very well, thank you." I smiled at him. "How is your wife?"
"She's doing wonderfully. The baby's kicking her almost all day long." Dr. Patterson smiled back. "Roxanne is growing at the rate we'd expect for a mutant of her age. We have three immunizations to give her today. As usual, a slight fever and some irritablity is normal but if she gets too sick, please bring her in."
"Of course."
She didn't cry when the shots were administered, merely clutched her puppy closer to her chest and squeezed my hand. Roxanne was strong, like her father. When we got home, she went to play in her room with Nixie while I got her lunch ready.
"Roxie, come eat!" I called up to her room. Normally, when she knew her food was ready she ran downstairs without hesitation. I didn't hear any movement upstairs so I went to check on her, finding her sleeping on her bed. Smiling to myself, I pulled off her shoes and tugged her blanket up over her then brushed a stray curl off her forehead. She felt warm and the smile disappeared from my face as I found the thermometer to take her temperature. One minute later, the readout said that her temperature was over 103 degrees. Even when she reacted to the shots, it was never this extreme. Dr. Patterson told me not to worry and that it was part of her healing factor working against her immunizations then hung up on me.
I sat in the rocking chair in her room so I could keep an eye on her. I always did this when she was sick. It would be a huge relief when her healing factor started to work for her rather than against her. I must have fallen asleep because I woke up when Roxanne crawled into my lap, resting her head on my chest and whimpering. I sang softly to her in French while rocking her gently.
-0-
She hadn't improved the next morning and I tried to get her to eat something but she couldn't keep anything down. After another frantic call to Patterson, I tossed some sheets into the laundry. Roxanne had vomited on most of the bed clothes and was tucked in my bed right now. At least I thought she was but when I went up to check on her, she was gone. Thanks to Lynx, I was able to find her sunshine scent in the air, following it outside. I was halfway to the park before I found her chasing several children down the street. The fever must have made her delirious and she managed to scratch a little girl before I caught her.
"Can't you control that...thing?" Her mother snapped at me as I cradled Roxie in my arms.
"My daughter is ill, Ellen." I snapped back. "And if you care to remember, she is not a thing. She's my daughter."
"I hope she has her rabies shot." Ellen muttered under her breath and I snarled at her. She ran away and I carried Roxie home, tucking her into bed again. She whimpered and reached for me so I lay down next to her, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"You'll be all right, sweetheart." I whispered, rubbing her back. "You'll be all right."
-0-
Roxie needed a bath, having sweat through her pajamas during the night. When she was clean and in fresh clothes, I took a much needed shower. Her fever had gotten worse but her doctor refused to do anything. A quick call to the emergency room told me that no one there would do anything for a mutant child. My pack was no option because once I rejected Victor, I rejected them.
Knowing it was futile, I dressed Roxie as lightly as the weather allowed and got her in the car. The staff at the emergency room either glared at my scars or ignored the feverish child in my arms. "You're going to let my daughter die because of your stupid prejudice?"
"The less mutants, the better." A nurse sneered and it took all my restraint to not snap her neck.
A doctor watched as I turned to leave, then followed me to the parking garage. "There's a place you can go that is a safe place for mutants. I think they have the means to help your daughter."
"Thank you." I hugged her tightly. "Where is this place?"
"New York." She said, handing me a pamphlet.
"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?" I read. "How can a school help?"
"Just go. He can help you."
-0-
The trip took almost twelve hours and Roxie was having a rough go of it. I stopped as frequently as I was able but the snow across the states made it difficult. When we finally were within a mile or two of the school, my car sputtered. "No. Don't do this."
It stopped next to a snowdrift and I smacked the steering wheel angrily. "You are so going to the junkheap in the sky."
Roxie clutched her puppy closer to her and cried. I looked back at her in time to see her hand shift into what looked like a blade made of her flesh then morph back to her hand. "It hurts."
I got out of the car and pulled my coat off then gathered Roxie into my arms, draping the coat around her. She must have been in more pain than she was saying because her claws dug into my skin each time we moved. She went limp in my arms when I reached the end of the driveway for the school and I started running. There was a gate and I held her close while trying to find some way to open it. There was an intercom and I pushed the button frantically. It was two in the morning but I'd wake up whoever I needed to.
"Who the hell is this?" A gruff voice mumbled.
"My daughter is very sick. She needs your help." I begged. I had almost given up hope when the gate swung open and I bolted up the rest of the driveway. The front door was open and a man in a wheelchair was waiting for me. A second man, who was a feral by the smell of him, came down the stairs as he pulled on a flannel over shirt. "Please...her mutation...my daughter is sick."
"Come inside out of the snow." The man in the wheelchair said, closing the door behind me.
"Listen lady, a mutation ain't an illness." Flannel man said as though he was used to mutants being told they were sick. "If she's a mutant, there's nothing anybody can do-"
"I am not talking about her being a mutant." I interrupted him. "My daughter is physically ill and it's affecting her mutation."
As if to prove my point, her arm morphed again and the fleshy blade went through my shoulder. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and stroked her hair, trying to calm her down so she could morph back. "Logan, take her so we can examine her."
"No. I'll take her where you need to put her." I pulled her away from the Flannel Man who was apparently named Logan. "I don't want her to hurt you.
Logan snorted. "Whatever, lady."
The school had a lower level where there was an infirmary to deal with situations like this, I guess. Roxie had her eyes closed but was asking for Nixie.
"Who's Nixie?" Logan asked as a blue furry man, who I recognized as Henry McCoy from the news, moved to examine her.
"Her imaginary friend." I answered, checking my shoulder. There was still a hole where Roxie had gotten me, which was weird. Normally my healing factor took care of this. I'd deal with it later. Right now, I wanted to know what was wrong with her. "Is she going to be okay?"
"I need to get some blood." Dr. McCoy said. "Does she have any allergies that we need to be aware of?"
"Nope. No allergies."
"What's her name?" He asked.
"Roxanne. I call her Roxie." I smoothed her sweaty hair away from her face. "We went to her doctor yesterday and she got some shots but she's never had this reaction. Not this bad."
"Well, I'll run some tests and we'll get her fever down." Dr. McCoy promised then pointed to my shoulder. "But you need to get that looked at and when was the last time you got some sleep?"
"I got a few hours the night before last."
"You're no good to her exhausted." He said gently. "We'll take care of that shoulder then you need to get some rest. Professor Xavier can give you a hand."
"Of course." The man in the wheelchair rolled forward with a kind smile on his face. I sat in a chair next to him while he cleaned my shoulder. "Dr. McCoy is right, of course. You need to rest."
"Do you have any children, Professor?" I asked as he bandaged my shoulder.
"I have many children in my care." He smiled again.
"Then you know how it is when they're hurt or sick. It's hard to relax." My shirt had blood on it but, if we're being completely honest here (and I think we can be), it wasn't even the worst thing my clothes have been covered in.
"Why not go change into some clean clothes?" Xavier suggested. "I believe Storm may have something to fit you."
"I'd really rather stay with Roxie, if that's okay."
"Of course."
We went back to Dr. McCoy and I sat next to Roxie, who was connected to several monitors and finally seemed to be sleeping well. "We'll find out what's wrong. I promise."
"Thank you." I sat next to her and held her little hand.
A/N: If you guys have any points in time that you'd like to see a little Victor/Charlie time, then let me know. Thanks to the new alerts/favorites and to my reviewers brigid, OptimusPrimegirl, and Dragoness. You guys rock and I love all of you.
Leave a review and let me know what you think. :)