Chapter 13

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester, New York

2 Hours Earlier...

Charles closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, slowly counting backwards from ten for what felt like the hundredth time. For the past hour, he had desperately tried to get Raven and Azazel to cooperate, but thus far, every attempt at a civil discussion rapidly deteriorated into a Russian screaming match. The two were at each other's throats, pointing fingers and throwing hands in the air, leaning dangerously close to one another's faces while they argued. Frankly at this point, he wasn't sure how the pair had managed to stop yelling at each other long enough to even have Kurt. Listening to them was like watching a bad Soviet soap opera.

Clearly, Azazel was struggling to communicate in English, and Charles couldn't keep pace with their Russian; Raven was the only one capable of managing all the languages being tossed about. Unfortunately, this left Charles in the dark as to what they planned to do concerning the welfare of his student. No matter what Raven and Azazel's personal troubles were, Charles needed to make sure Kurt's best interests were at heart.

Eventually, he decided that enough was enough.

"Quiet! Both of you!" The pair ceased bickering and turned their attention to Charles. He motioned for Azazel to take a seat as he wheeled towards him. "I'm going to help you, but you're going to have to trust me."

"Make me in sleep again, all promises nyet!" Azazel threatened, jabbing a finger at Charles as he took his seat.

"I swear I will not do that again," Charles shot a nasty look at Raven and she crossed her arms, refusing to meet his gaze. "Please, just close your eyes and try to relax; hopefully, this will only take a few moments." Charles placed two fingers against his temple and concentrated. It took the red man several minutes to calm down before Charles could even start working.

Shifting through anyone's memories is difficult, let alone those of a teleportor. Charles concentrated, moving cautiously through the shadows and smoke that comprised Azazel's thoughts. As with anyone, Charles tried to be gentle, and to not pry into any more memories than necessary to complete his work. He greatly respected people's privacy, and from the little he knew about Azazel, he didn't really want to accidentally encounter images of people tumbling to their deaths, being gutted or worse: his sister in a compromising position. As he moved deeper through Azazel's thoughts, a series of images flashed in Charles' mind as if he was watching a picture show: the gleam of metal from a sword; a pretty girl with bright green eyes laughing mischievously; a glimpse of Kurt, his face clearly bruised while he touched a rosary and smiled through tears; Raven, younger and sapphire skinned, wearing a halo of wildflowers and a white dress. Charles was startled by the image of his sister. After listening to them fight, he would never have guessed that Azazel held any memories of her that were this serene. In this memory, Raven was smiling happily, and she looked so very beautiful. Charles suddenly wished he had told Raven more often how beautiful she truly was, before they part ways on that beach in Cuba. He couldn't remember the last time since that he had seen her smile and actually mean it. Reluctantly, he moved away from the memory of Raven and continued his work.

"Alright, that should just about do it," Charles sat back, removing his fingers and opening his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"What do you mean, how do I feel?" The red mutant shook his head, scoffing. "How do I feel, he asks?" He muttered to himself, annoyed. Suddenly his eyes lit-up and he looked at Charles, unconsciously touching his mouth as he did so.

"I speak better, da?" Azazel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"All I did was unlock a few memories; you now have access again to your fluency from years ago. I hope this helps."

"Thank you," Azazel nodded curtly to Charles. He then turned and pointed a finger accusingly at Raven. "She stole my son!"

"He's my son too, you red jackass!" Raven leaped up from her chair, jabbing her finger back at him.

"You abandoned him as baby, now you want to keep him for yourself. Is my son! I deserve to know him too!" Azazel stood to match her, his face now inches from hers.

"If you think for one second," Raven hissed, clenching her jaw, "that I'm going to stand here and let you take him back to Moscow...!" The two continued to spar verbally over the fate of their son. Fantastic, thought Charles, as their voices escalated. I just gave this soap opera subtitles.

"Since you two don't seem to want to cooperate, we're going to do this my way," Charles interrupted sternly. He concentrated, freezing Raven and Azazel in mid-fight. "In a few seconds, I'm going to release you, and you both are going to sit down and listen to each other for a change." When he released them, both stepped back, each retaking their seats. Raven crossed her arms tightly, scowling and casting her eyes to the floor. Azazel stared boldly at Charles, his tail lashing irritably.

"Azazel, we'll start with you, seeing that you're technically a guest and Raven has declined for the last two months to tell me what, exactly, was going on in my own school, " Charles nodded to the red man, who in turned glanced smugly at Raven. The blue woman opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out. She put her hands to throat and turned to Charles, looking at him wide-eyed and confused.

"Oh my apologies! I forgot to mention," Charles smiled sweetly at Raven, "that since you're both so fond of interruptions, neither of you will be physically able to talk while the other one speaks. You are going to listen without interrupting, and then you will have your say. Do I make myself understood?" Raven glowered at Charles and gave him the finger.

"That means 'yes,'" Azazel added helpfully, smirking at Raven. "I wish I had such a trick to use on her years ago." At this, she turned towards Azazel and repeated the gesture. "See? She agrees with me!"

"Azazel..." Charles warned. The red mutant put up his hands to show this commentary was in jest.

Charles (and Raven, to a lesser degree) listened patiently as Azazel told his side of the story about meeting Kurt for the first time in Latvia. Charles was glad the man didn't delve too deeply into his and Raven's history; he didn't want to know what misdeeds his baby sister had been up to before 1973, during the darker years of her life, especially since she had spent quite a bit of that time with Azazel. After he finished talking, Charles turned to Raven, and permitted her to tell her story while Azazel sat muted. During the whole process, Charles regarded their individual predicaments thoughtfully.

"Do you want to know what I think about all this?" Charles asked quietly when Raven finished. He held up a finger to stress his next point. "I'm not going to lock your voices, but know that if either one of you interrupts me, you'll find yourself battling a migraine for three full days."

"Kurt is, by all means, a wonderful young man and dedicated student. He is kind, he adores helping his peers, and he has made several close friends his own age, something he hasn't had the opportunity to do before coming here. Every day I see him gaining more confidence, becoming more comfortable with his appearance and abilities, and it has been nothing short of a pleasure having him at my school these last two months." At this admission, both Raven and Azazel smiled proudly.

"However," Charles took a deep breath and continued, "seated in front of me are Kurt's parents, both of whom are too busy fighting with each other and playing tug-of-war with their son to consider what really is the best course of action for him." Both mutants looked away guilty this time.

"Raven?" Raven's amber eyes alighted to Charles, but her expression was unreadable. "I think you did the right thing by bringing Kurt to the school. This is a good, safe environment for him in which he can learn and grow, and he wouldn't have been safe back at the Munich Circus." Raven nodded, smiling softly at her brother's approval.

"However," Charles continued, "I also agree that, as Kurt's father, Azazel absolutely has the right to be a part of his son's life."

"But Charles..." Raven protested.

"I am not finished," Charles held-up his hand, silencing her outburst. He turned to Azazel. The red mutant lifted his head, waiting patiently for Charles's to speak. "I know you're not happy that Kurt is here, far from where you reside, but under no conditions will I allow you to remove Kurt from this school and take him back to the East."

"You cannot stop me," Azazel threatened, "if I choose to do this."

"You are right, I cannot," Charles calmly replied. "But, know this: if you take Kurt, I will hunt you down and I will not stop until I find you. I will bring Kurt back here myself if needed." A smile slowly grew on Azazel's face and he tipped his head respectfully at Charles.

"It is good to hear that you would do this, protect my son."

"I want to believe that people can change, and that you do not mean anyone harm by coming here, not even Raven. I want to believe that you come out of a desire to get to know Kurt?"

"Da, this is correct."

"Then I'm prepared to extend my hospitality and allow you temporary lodging here so you may do so..."

"Charles, no!"

"...On the condition," Charles shot a look at Raven, "that you do not reveal to Kurt who you really are until my sister agrees to do so as well." Azazel sat back and blinked rapidly, processing his statement.

"But he is..."

"Yes, I am fully aware of the fact that he is your son," Charles implored, "but he is also my sister's son, and he is my nephew. While I might not agree with keeping him in the dark about who his parents are, it's important to Raven and you two need to learn to compromise for the sake of Kurt's well being. So," Charles sighed, "that is the deal. Azazel, you can remain here for the time being as you do not reveal to Kurt who you are. Raven, you have to understand that eventually, Kurt deserves to know the truth about who you both are. In the meantime, you two need two work on getting along for Kurt's sake. Agreed?"

Both looked slightly defeated, but nodded in agreement.

"Well, it could be worse," Charles sat back, smiling at their resolution. "At least you're not married. Could you imagine?"

"Reminds me," Azazel snapped his fingers and reached into his jacket, pulling out a folded manila envelop. "Here," he said, tossing the envelope at Raven, who had to put up both hands catch it before it hit her face.

"What's this?" She raised her eyebrow. Inside was a thick set of documents, written in Russian.

"Divorce papers," Azazel growled. "I have marked where you sign, devotchka."

"Oh bloody hell!" Charles looked exasperated. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Charles," Raven demanded, clutching the papers and scowling at Azazel, "give me a pen."

"I am not a marriage counselor!" Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Whatever problems you two have, you need to figure it out between yourselves and keep it away from Kurt and my other students. I will not..."

Suddenly, the entire office began to quake violently. Raven, Azazel, and Charles looked at each other in alarm, speaking at once:

"What...?"

"An earthquake?"

"My students!"

A/N: APOCALYPSE x 2! This scene was originally written as the end of Chapter 12, but then that chapter started getting crazy long, so I split it. Enjoy a quick turn-around post! :)