Chapter 14

Raven paced the length of her room like a tiger stalking in a cage. Charles dismissed them about thirty minutes earlier, just after after the mysterious tremor rocked the mansion. It didn't seem to cause much damage - from what she saw, only a few books slipped off the shelves and a water glass shattered - but the event deeply troubled Charles. He mumbled something about pisonic origins as he waved them away, headed no doubt to Cerebro for further investigation. Raven bolted from the office without evening glancing at Azazel, and almost collided with Alex on her dash out. Let him show Azazel to his new lodgings, she seethed as she ran up the stairs two at at time. Raven wasn't pleased with this whole situation, not one bit.

Idiot, she admonished herself; what was I thinking, mentioning Charles that night in Latvia? She knew Azazel was sharp and latched onto details quickly; she was sure her foolish admission was how he figured out to visit Westchester in the first place. Despite their somewhat coerced agreement regarding Kurt, Azazel's presence at the school was a liability for them both. Raven stopped in her tracks and rubbed her face vigorously with both hands, sighing loudly in frustration.

The thing that bothered her the most was that Charles and Azazel were right: Kurt did deserve to know the truth. But, just because Azazel was ready to step-up as a father didn't mean that Raven was ready to be anyone's mother. Sure, she had her moments of nurturing, but deep down inside, Raven felt like she'd just screw it up and disappoint everyone yet again. She had solid reasons for entrusting Kurt into Margali's loving arms. I was protecting him, she reminded herself; I was not abandoning him. Raven couldn't bare the thought of Kurt - sweet, innocent Kurt - knowing she was forced to leave him because of a botched KGB assignment that put a price on her head, or that in the years prior to his birth her job had been assassinating targets alongside his father. What would happen to Kurt if he found out his parents were coldblooded killers? Raven had spent the last ten years rescuing mutants to atone for these sins - for abandoning her son, for not going back to find Azazel, for shooting Erik instead of killing Trask, for leaving her own brother broken and bleeding in the sand - but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, and she didn't understand why Kurt needed to know any of it.

And Azazel...Raven frowned, pulling her hands away from her face and unconsciously sliding them to her stomach. Ever since the day she walked away from Kurt, she felt hallow, like an empty vessel for all the dreams of her life that could have been. Her eyes drifted to the crumpled divorce papers on the nightstand, and her mouth set harder.

There was a time, long ago, when she was young and naive and would have wanted to raise Kurt with Azazel. Once, about a year after they married, she had hid from their friends in The Zaytsevr's bathroom, clutching a home pregnancy test like a cross. In her whole life, Raven never wished for a child, and they'd never even discussed the possibility. The moment the test read positive, she was surprised she felt happy in spite of her trembling hands. She loved Azazel, and he loved her; surely together they could be the safe, accepting family that neither of them had the luxury of as children. Two days later, however, Raven's blood came with a vengeance. She never even had the chance to tell Azazel - he had been away on assignment until the morning she miscarried - and she hid her cramping and pain behind the lie she had the flu. It was the only time she actually ever lied to him, and it hurt. It hurt more when, despite being exhausted, Azazel went of his way to take care of her, bringing her chicken soup and moving the TV into the bedroom, refusing to leave her side until she felt better.

What the hell happened to us? She and Azazel were certainly never perfect; like all couples, they argued over trivial things, but shortly after the yelling ceased, they'd always be wrapped up in each other again whispering apologies and promises and concessions. This time around, it was just all screaming. That man is so goddamn stubborn, she thought; not that she imagined they'd resolve their current arguments how they used to, but still. Raven just felt like he was refusing to even consider her side of this situation.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar BAMF behind her. Raven rubbed her eyes without turning around. She wanted to be alone, and certainly didn't have the energy for another fight.

"In seventeen years, is it really so hard to learn to knock…?" Raven's voice trailed away when she turned to see Kurt standing meekly behind her, not Azazel as she had expected. He kept his eyes on the floor, but held-up both hands in an apologetic surrender.

"I'm sorry, I...I was not thinking!" Kurt vanished just as she reached out to him. Seconds later, she heard a soft rapping at her door. She shook her head and moved quickly to open it. Kurt stood in the shadows, wringing his hands and looking rather unsure of himself.

"May I come in, please?" Raven swung the door wide and he entered. He stood awkwardly, keeping his head bowed so that his shaggy hair covered his face. She could tell instantly that he was hiding something.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Raven crossed her arms.

"I, uh, I want to apologize."

"Kurt, no." A flame of guilt burned in her. "You have nothing to apologize for." Before he could continue, she walked over and quickly put her hand on his chin, turning his face into the light. His lip was bruised and swollen, and fresh blood seeped from a cut on his cheek, just below his eye.

"What happened?" Raven gasped.

"Nothing." Kurt pushed her hand from his face, trying downplay his injuries.

"Kurt," this time she gently touched his shoulder. There was a semi-healed burn on his arm, not unlike a burn she once accidentally received from Alex years ago during training. "Tell me what happened."

"I got into a fight," he mumbled abjectly, unable to meet her eyes.

"A fight?" Anger flared in her that someone would dare touch her son. "What fight? With who?"

"Some jerks at the mall. But it wasn't my fault!"

"Let me go get Hank...er, Dr. McCoy, he can treat your..."

"Nein!" Kurt's eyes snapped up, wide with panic. "I don't...I don't want anyone to know!"

"You're hurt and I can't..."

"Nein!" Kurt pleaded. The fear and embarrassment on his face was heartbreaking. "Bitte?" Raven dropped her head in defeat and nodded.

"Raven, I came here because I wanted to say I was sorry for anything..."

"Kurt, stop," Raven held up her hand. "Just, stop. You have done nothing wrong. It's me who should be apologizing to you. I have been terrible since we got here, and I made you feel like it was your fault, and I'm sorry. You're a great kid, and I shouldn't have been projecting any personal issues onto you or anyone else. I'm really sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"I...," Kurt blinked rapidly, processing her statement. Eventually, he gave her a lopsided, surprised grin. "Ja, wow I was not expecting...Raven, I forgive you." Seconds later, his smile fell. "I missed Azazel, earlier, didn't I?"

"You didn't miss him," Raven sighed. Kurt was going to find out soon enough, anyways.

"What?"

"Azazel's still here. He's actually going to be staying here, for a little while, at least."

"Really? Where is he? Can I see him?" Maybe if I take Kurt to visit him, Raven pondered as Kurt's tail wagged happily, he'll see it as some kind of a peace offering. If Azazel was going to be staying at the school, she might as well get on his good side, especially if she wanted him to keep her secrets safe.

"It's rather late," she glanced her bedside clock. When she looked back at Kurt's sullen expression, she smirked. Oh, fuck it. She laid her hand on Kurt's uninjured arm.

"Well, I guess we can go see if he's still awake. At least he can patch you up, if you won't see Dr. McCoy." Kurt nodded eagerly, and in spite of her misgivings, Raven found herself smiling; Kurt's excitement could be downright infectious.

"Can you take us to the fifth floor corridor, left wing?"

Azazel stood in the middle of his room, looking rather uncomfortable and out of place. A young man named Alex had taken him to the room, glaring at him the entire walk there. He felt like he recognized Alex from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place where. By the way the young man scowled at him, Azazel decided it was probably best not to ask.

The bedroom Charles allotted was more than sufficient, but the idea of him staying at the school was odd. Azazel was used to a life on the run; he never set-up a permanent residence anywhere, and rarely stayed in the same place for more than two or three weeks at a time, even when Clarice was young. I'm doing this for my son, he reminded himself, although he certainly wasn't happy with the compromise of not telling Kurt who he really was. That girl is so goddamn stubborn, he thought; not that he entertained the idea they'd resolve their present arguments like they used to, but still. Azazel just felt like she was refusing to even consider his side of this situation.

As he stood looking at the bed and wondering why there were so many damn pillows on it, he heard a soft knocking at the door. Azazel was wary; besides Raven or Charles (and Alex), he didn't know if anyone else knew the room was occupied, or that he was in fact its occupant. He wasn't in the mood to see either Raven or Charles, but the red man sighed and resigned himself to opening the door at the second, louder round of knocking. Azazel hated playing nice for other people's sake, but he had to start making some sacrifices. Out of habit, he opened the door only a crack, and frowned when he saw Raven illuminated in the opening. Before he could tell her to go away, Kurt's smiling face suddenly appeared inches from his own.

"Surprise!" In a heartbeat, Azazel vanished, reappearing on the other side of the bed with both of his short swords drawn.

"I told you that was a bad idea," Raven muttered, shaking her head as she pushed the door open. "He doesn't like surprises."

"Well, I like surprises," Kurt said brightly as he trailed in behind her. Azazel was breathing hard and felt like his heart leaped into his throat. At the sight of Kurt's wounded face, he dropped his weapons and appeared in front of the indigo boy.

"Mal'chik, what happened to your face?" Azazel turned to Raven. "What happened to his face?"

"He got into a fight."

"A fight?" Azazel clenched his jaw in anger. "What fight? With who?"

"I'll tell him tell you. First, though...?" Raven motioned to Kurt's injuries. Azazel did a quick examination; thankfully, these injuries were slight compared to the last time he saw Kurt.

"I need bandages," he tilted Kurt's face with his hand. "Ice, too, would be helping." Raven nodded and fetched adhesive bandages and a pair of scissors from the attached bath.

"I'm going to the kitchen; I'll be back shortly." Azazel motioned for Kurt to take a seat on the bed after Raven left. He started cutting the bandages into strips for butterfly stitches.

"Your English has improved," Kurt happily observed.

"Da, I have been practicing." Azazel started applying the stitches. "Tell me what happened?" Kurt repeated the story of the fight. Azazel listed patiently while he finished patching Kurt's cheek.

"...and then, I cut him with my tail, but it was an accident!"

"Let me guess," Azazel smirked. "You rolled one way and tail rolled other?"

"How did you...?" Azazel held up his own tail, as if illustrating the answer to Kurt's question.

"Tails have mind of own. You have to learn to control. Takes practice."

"Oh," Kurt looked crestfallen, and Azazel laughed.

"Nyet worries, I show you few tricks." Azazel then looked quizzically at Kurt. "Why were you in fight?"

"Well, I technically they started it, but then Scott and I fought back because they insulted the girls. I thought we were being chivalrous," Kurt admitted sheepishly.

"What means 'chivalrous'?" Azazel cocked his head.

"Being brave and gallant, especially towards women. You know; protecting women from harm."

"Nyet worry about devotchkas, Kurt," Azazel shook his head, chuckling. "Devochkas can fight. Some of best fighters I know are devotchkas not much older than you."

"You know women who can fight better than men?" Now it was Kurt's turn to cock his head.

"Da, my friend Clarice is brave fighter, with both hands and weapons. And your..." the word mother almost slipped out before Azazel caught himself "...friend Raven, is also fighter. She is one of the best I know."

"Raven? Really?" Azazel nodded at Kurt's question. "How do you know?"

"I know because I taught her to fight," Azazel shrugged.

"Can you teach me to fight?" Kurt's eyes lit-up in excitement. Azazel raised an eyebrow. For a second, looking at Kurt's indigo skin and golden eyes, he was reminded of the first time he interacted with Raven. Teach me to fight, she demanded; those were the first words she actually spoke directly to him. He was impressed by her audacity, and he was thrilled to have an excuse to finally spend time with her. Never did he think when he agreed to instruct Raven so many years ago that he'd be in the same position with their son.

"Da, I would like that very much." Azazel smiled softly at Kurt, who returned the gesture. Suddenly, Azazel snapped his fingers. "I have something for you." He reached into his shirt and pulled out Kurt's rosary.

"You found it!" Kurt beamed. When Azazel started to take it off, Kurt stopped him. "Nein, it was a gift. Keep it?"

Both Azazel and Kurt turned at the sound of a throat clearing. Raven stood in the doorway, holding a large bag of ice, which Kurt gratefully applied it to his swollen lip.

"So," Kurt shifted the bag against his cheek, eyeing Azazel thoughtfully as he tucked the rosary back under his shirt. "Why are you here? Not that I am complaining, of course."

"I invited him," Raven said before Azazel was forced to think of an excuse. "Azazel needed some time off work and I thought you'd might like to spend time with him, since we had to leave Latvia so quickly." She shrugged casually. "Anyways, I'm going to bed now, so you two catch up." Raven turned to Kurt. "Don't stay up too late kid, or someone will notice you're not in your room past curfew." As Kurt wished her goodnight, Azazel nodded to Raven, offering a small smile. He was grateful for the unexpected peace offering, even if she was still goddamn stubborn.

In the early morning, Raven stood in the doorway of Kurt's bedroom, her arms tightly crossed as she watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. She had been startled awake hours earlier by Jean's violent dreaming, and she had been unable to fall back asleep. It wasn't Jean's fault though; Raven felt like the last two months of her life were finally catching up to her, and she was having trouble navigating the raging river of all her conflicting emotions.

Just before Jean's dreams rocked her awake, Raven had another nightmare about the day she left Kurt. She had the same nightmare twice since returning to the mansion, and it was becoming difficult to find serenity for her jangled nerves. At night, she often wandered the seemingly endless hallways of her childhood to calm her mind, but sometimes the only peace she found was standing in the doorway of Kurt's room, watching him sleep and telling herself that it was finally over: he was here, he was safe, and she never had to leave him again.

As she watched her son sleep in a peace she would never know, Raven felt a hand slide over her shoulder. She didn't even need to turn around to know whose it was.

"Do you think we were ever so young and innocent?"

"Young once, da. But innocent?" Azazel shook his head. "Nyet. We never had chance."

Raven turned to him in the dark. Without saying a word, she leaned against him, laying her head on his chest. Azazel wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head. Before they became lovers, Raven always imagined that Azazel's crimson skin would scorching to the touch, but in reality, he wasn't any warmer than any other man she'd been with. There was a slight acrid scent that clung to him, almost like gun powder. She didn't realized she how badly she missed his smell until that moment.

"I still think about Tahiti," she admitted to the darkness, listening to the drumbeat of his heart and taking comfort in its old, familiar rhythm. She had done the math; Kurt had been conceived in Tahiti. He was the little piece of paradise they brought into reality only to be lost outside of their control. Despite their lives of violence, their son was a product of love - pure, unadulterated love - and if things had gone differently, they would have kept him, and raised him as their own. Despite what she said in Latvia - that people like them don't get to have children - it wasn't the truth. The truth was that Azazel would have been a good father, and she would have tried her best to be a good mother. What she told Azazel was just the lie she had to tell herself everyday keep the pain from becoming unbearable, to allow herself to get up and put one foot in front of the other to keep living in a world that was unforgiving and cruel, that tore apart families every day for no other reason than it simply could.

"I wish we had nyet left." At the sound of his voice, Raven realized she was precariously close to tears. She squeezed her eyes shut, her throat suddenly feeling constricted.

"I wanted him to have your eyes," she whispered, afraid of her own voice.

And then, Azazel touched her face so tenderly that something she had been battling inside herself for seventeen years finally broke. The tears came, hot and slick, running down her face like blood.

A/N: Fun fact: the last sentence of this chapter was the first sentence of the entire fic that I wrote back in May. Another fun fact: this is my favorite chapter so far because of the metaphors.

And, Birusa you got your wish: this chapter is the longest one yet! :) (Love to Pikaace too who's reviewed every post!)

I cannot stress enough how much I adore YOU, dear readers. Seriously, knowing how much you are enjoying this fic makes the hours of editing (literally, hours) 100% worth the time and effort. THANK YOU! XOXOX