Chapter 14

It had taken a little more than a month in order for the house to look more inhabitable. In that time, Erik had grown increasingly frustrated at his inability to leave the home, and fully begin an official Brotherhood recruitment. The others required his full attention, and left him little choice but to remain at the base. Erik was aware that he needed more hands at the base, so that he was able to leave and recruit more hands. The paradox of his situation was not lost on the metal-bender.

The menial, day-to-day tasks were also beginning to wear on the mutant. He found himself delegating the tasks to the teens, and holing himself within his suitably dubbed 'war room.' The room itself, located directly beside the kitchen, was only recently furnished. It held three, dark wood tables that formed a squared horseshoe in the center. An equal number of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were pressed against the back wall, but were mostly bereft of any novels or textbooks. A relatively large bulletin board took most of the wall space to the left, while an enormous world map was pinned to the right. Erik had mostly considered it an office or library, but his son refused to name it such.

Despite feeling the deep want to flee to his beloved war room, if only for the pretense of getting some sort of work done, Erik had opted to remain in the foyer when a familiar grunt filtered in. He rested the small of his back against the half-wall, and folded his arms across his sinewy chest. The mutant blandly chewed on his tasteless gum as he watched the open front door in mild amusement.

Another animalistic grunt, much closer this time, resounded from just outside. It was shortly followed by a considerably beefy, blond-haired man as he attempted to maneuver his girth through the main door; his massive arms laden with a fully complete weight machine. Erik found himself momentarily dumbfounded at the sight.

Initially, Erik had been pleasantly surprised when Mastermind and Peter had managed to wrangle the rather large mutant back to their base. When the monstrosity of a man realized that the others had no intention of harm, but instead offered work and the promise of a brotherhood, he had readily agreed. It didn't take long for the mutant to admit he had been missing the concept, and that he had taken to eating his way through his feelings. It disgusted Erik, but he had use for the man's brawn.

However, it was clear the mutant lacked brains. Erik could only watch a moment longer, lest his gum fell through his parted lips. He tore his incredulous stare away from the other, and pushed himself away from the wall. The metal-bender hadn't wanted to risk wasting the breath it would take to ask why the imbecile hadn't thought to assemble the machine in the basement; rather than in the front lawn.

The mutant, introduced as Fred Dukes, was aptly nicknamed Blob by Peter when the other had turned his rather large back. Erik had a feeling that the nickname for the man didn't just refer to his abnormal muscle mass, but he had to admit that Dukes presently had more muscle than fat. Although it was currently a fine line, and Erik did not look forward to watching the man literally tip the scales.

"Hey!" Dukes cried out when a blur of movement nearly upended him. "Watch yerself!"

"It's lunchtime, Duke-man!" Peter shouted back as he raced through the foyer, past the dining area, and into the kitchen. It was times like these that the teen was exceptionally glad that the majority of the first story had an open floor plan. He didn't want to worry about rushing face first into one of the many, thick wooden doors.

Erik neatly sidestepped the teen. He had just started to pass the long, glass dining table when a soft giggle made him pull up short. He stepped into the entrance of the adjacent living room. Two, antique couches formed an L-shape in the center, and nearly blocked his view of a certain, green-haired little girl. He walked in a little further, and stood behind the first leather sofa. A fireplace crackled gently to his immediate right, and illuminated the comparatively dark space in a warm glow. It was one of the few rooms that didn't have any windows. An easel stood in the far left corner; a crude, half-finished painting still resting on it. And although Erik couldn't see around the fireplace, he was aware there was an unused chess set in the right corner.

He placed his hands atop the back of the couch, and cleared his throat. "Lorna." The child's head snapped up at the gravelly voice. "Lunch."

The preteen untucked her lanky legs from underneath herself, and used the edge of a couch cushion to haul her skinny form from off the floor. She tucked a worn-looking teddy under her arm, and smiled up at Erik when she passed him. Erik trailed silently behind.

The father/daughter duo could easily hear arguing within the expanse of kitchen.

"I'm just saying that you could at least clean up after yourself. Nobody likes to touch gooey, amphibian...goo."

There was an incredulous snort. "Really? You're the very definition of a slob."

"Nuh-uh."

"You're both slobs," Lorna happily announced as she skipped into the kitchen. She placed her bear on the kitchen island, and rivaled her brother in her haste to zip to the counters nearest the twin fridges. The sole counter in between the two was covered in an assortment of bread and condiments for sandwiches. She eagerly snagged a paper plate, and set to work on her own creation.

Peter, sitting atop a cracked counter to the right of one of the large coolers, adopted a wounded expression. "Dude," he protested. "You're supposed to be on my side."

Lorna wrinkled her nose. "I'm the only girl here," she retorted. "I'm on my side."

The metal-bender grinned smugly at her reply. He quietly stepped behind the petite girl, and reached over her to grab his chosen bread. She ducked underneath his arm with a small laugh, as she whirled in place until she faced Mort. The teen had moved away from the stove, and was now leaning against the island with his own meal.

"Pie is right, though." She bit a chunk of rolled up ham. "You do leave gooey messes."

"Ew," Peter scowled disgustingly. "That is goo, isn't it?"

Erik rolled his eyes, and licked a stripe of butter from his thumb. He gave his son a pointed stare. "That's enough, Peter." He threw the same expression back to the other teenager, who appeared ready to flick his prehensile tongue in retaliation. However, Mort immediately balked at the look, and resumed eating his food in silence.

The elder mutant narrowed his eyes as he glanced from one boy to the other. Satisfied when he found whatever he was looking for, or the lack of what he was scrutinizing the pair for, he offered them a curt nod. He motioned vaguely towards the general area of the basement stairs with his sandwich. "Whenever you two are finished, you can clean up whatever mess it is you're so worried about."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but a sudden vibration of the metal buttons of his leather jacket caused him to falter. He swallowed his next words with a handful of saltines, and scrounged up an annoyed glare at the the other teens direction.

A sudden, clanging crash of metal against concrete reached them, and had Erik taking a step forward with a heavy sigh. He slowed his chewing, in order to better hear over his own jaw working, and turned his head so that his ear was pointed towards the foyer.

There were a few muffled curses before Dukes called out, "It's alright! Everythin's alright!"

The two boys were sharing twin grins, while Lorna failed miserably at trying to hide hers. Erik looked over his shoulder at her, and shook his head. "Don't ever repeat those words, young lady."

Lorna vigorously nodded. "Scout's honor!"

Her older brother snorted. "You're no scout."

"And neither are you. Now hop to, Pietro. I believe there's a mess you boys need to take care of." Erik raised a brow, and waited for them to get moving. He thought about using his powers to get them to go, but was content when Morty heaved a soft sigh and complied. Peter followed suit shortly after with a beleaguered groan, and dramatic flip of his silvery bangs.

Peter placed his empty plate in the trash, and popped his last cracker in his mouth.

"Peter," Erik said firmly, "No powers. It's not a punishment if you cheat to get out of it."

"What?" Peter groused. "That's no fair!"

Erik placed his own plate atop the nearest counter, and set his jaw when he turned back to face the teen. "I know what's fair, and what isn't. So, believe you me when I say it's perfectly fair."

The tone of voice, flat and bereft of any emotion, rankled the teenager. However, Peter knew when to pick and choose his battles when it came to his father. He offered little more than an embittered scowl in return, and shuffled towards the kitchen's entrance.

Erik, decidedly feeling that his appetite had diminished after the minor spat, left his plate where it was. The exchange wasn't anything new, but the moods in the household were beginning to swing towards the malevolent with every day that showed lack a of progress.

He placed his hand on the level handle of the plain, double door of the war room. The silver metal under his palm hummed in contentment. He cracked one of the doors open, but paused before he could fully enclose himself in the room.

"Lorne?"

The child, a little sullen now that the jovial mood had been spoiled, looked up through her green bangs. "Yeah?"

Erik felt the sudden need to offer her a reassuring smile, or say that everything would be right as rain as soon as Peter got over his grouchiness; to tell her that living with him, now, was better than living on the streets, and that everything would be better...but instead he trained his pale eyes on the floor, and asked that she made sure the food he abandoned didn't go to waste.

Lorna's brows twitched as she frowned, but she nodded in response.

TBC...

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