February 17, 1960
"You know," Moira said, putting her hands on her hips, "I think green really does look good on the walls. If we get it pale enough then it should be perfect."
Charles nodded. He withdrew from Moira's mind and the walls of the room went back to their original color. Moira's mind was familiar to him, so his range of tricks was rather extensive. Seeing what she was seeing was the flip side of the equation, and he held the image in his head for a minute before letting it go.
"I think I preferred the cream," he said.
"No need to rush into a decision," Moira said.
She put a hand on her swollen stomach. The swell was more than visible under the maternity dress she was wearing. At seven months along she was quite big.
"We're not going to need the nursery just yet," said Moira.
Charles stood behind her, placing his hands over hers. Beneath his palm he could feel the baby kicking, each motion thumping hard against the wall of her stomach. Although he knew it caused his wife nausea, it also meant that the child was well and strong. Moira had said that if that was the case then thier baby was going to be strong enough to take down an army when he was born.
Despite himself he rather liked the thought.
"We're going to need it soon enough," Charles murmured.
Moira smiled, tilting her head back so she could kiss him.
"In time," she said, "We've just got to make a decision on the walls and then it's just a matter of you moving in the furniture."
She smiled.
"Although I still think green would be better," she said, "We'll get Rahne's opinion on it when she comes back from the hospital."
"I think she's there more than school sometimes," said Charles, "Not sure it's healthy being there, but well-"
"She's got a friend," Moira said.
He nodded.
"Exactly," he said.
Moira began rubbing her stomach.
"It's just that between the hospital, school, and the palace…well…" Moira said, "I just don't see her as much as I used to."
Her voice took on a wistful tone. Charles put a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry," he said, "We'll do something this weekend. Besides, Lorna's busy too. She's getting extra lessons from Erik about controlling her mutation."
"And you," Moira said.
"And me," said Charles, "She shows quite a bit of potential really."
"Potential," sighed Moira, "You're talking like you're scouting out new recruits for the X-men Charles."
"Of course I'm not," Charles said, "She can't be an X-man. She's going to be Queen when she gets older."
His wife inclined her head towards him.
"I don't think I've forgotten," Moira said.
"I'm just saying it's going to be a useful skill," said Charles.
"Like the kids in the Acolyte program?" asked Moira.
Charles winced. He'd never shared his full discomfort about the program with anyone other than Erik and Moira. He had to admit that it was yielding good results, and that made it all the harder to swallow. So much of what had been done in Genosha had been compromise, but those had worked. He'd continue to compromise if that was what it took.
"I suppose so," he said.
Moira caught onto his tone and turned in his arms. The motion was a little unwieldy because of her stomach, but she cupped his face and pulled it down.
"Hey, it's okay," Moira said, "As long as they don't actually go into combat until they're older, they're okay. It's just like JROTC."
He kept telling himself that. He still didn't quite believe it. Shoving the thought down he swallowed and changed the topic.
"Besides, it'll get her into school faster," he said, "The sooner the better."
Moira nodded and sighed. They both knew how difficult it was to socialize without contact. There were other ways, but if something as simple as school was out of the question in Erik's mind than youth groups were definitely out of bounds. Charles wondered at Erik's obstinacy, but at the same time admired Susanna's ability to talk him down. If, of course, that was what had happened.
His wife winced as the baby kicked again.
"I think I'm going to have to sit down for a minute," she said, "The room is starting to look blurry."
Charles took her hand and guided her to a chair in their room. She gave a dry smile before sitting down.
"I'm not made of glass you know," she said, giving him a dry look, "I can sit down by myself. I've been doing it all my life."
In response he knelt down next to her and put a hand on her stomach. It reassured him in a way that he couldn't quite explain.
"I know," he said, "I know…it's just…"
Charles smiled.
"I'm still taking this in," he said, "It's very…"
He searched for words.
"It seems very surreal at times," he said, "Part of me feels too young to be having a child biologically, but then I have to keep reminding myself how old I am."
"Enjoy it while the first number's under five," Moira said.
Charles laughed.
"Erik told me it's a natural feeling but…oh, I don't know," he said, "I already knew I was getting Rahne when I married you."
"So?" asked Moira.
"So, there was no real surprise about it," he said.
"And the idea of a baby comes as such a surprise?" asked Moira, "It really shouldn't have. For either of us."
Her words were pointed and Charles laughed again.
"Alright, alright," he said, "But still…"
Moira nodded.
"I understand."
They sat for a moment before Moira began to get up. Charles got up to assist her, and this time she did take his hand. Getting up was harder than sitting down.
"Speaking of children," Moira said, "It's almost time for us to pick up Rahne."
"You're doing great!"
Doug looked up, sweat pouring from his face. Raven gripped his hand as he took a few steps. Dr. Hudson had his other hand, giving Raven a few looks. They had to know when to have him stop. He didn't show too many signs of slowing though. Rahne stood on the other end of the room, clapping her hands and cheering. Raven was sure that was doing wonders for her friend's first attempt to walk in months.
He took one more step, his gnarled black hand digging into Raven's skin. She had to bite her lip to keep from making a noise. With a few more steps he managed to make it to the other end of the room. Seconds before collapsing Dr. Hudson scooped him up, taking him back to the bed. Rahne trotted over, still clapping and whistling.
"Awesome Doug, awesome!" Rahne said.
Doug managed a weak smile. He looked over at Dr. Hudson, who returned the gesture.
"You're getting much better Doug," she said, "We're going to be doing this daily from now on, okay?"
For a minute Raven saw apprehension flicker in his face. Dr. Hudson continued on cheerfully though, her voice oozing confidence.
"You can do it though, I know you can."
She squeezed Doug's hand and his smile broadened. Raven stood off to the side, feeling a smile on her own face. It was hard not to be cheerful. He was making good progress. From what she'd heard Doug could be released in under a year. It was more than the other children he'd been with would be able to say.
Dr. Hudson put his IV's back in, each motion careful. She'd been his doctor since the beginning, and had grown quite close to the boy. Raven knew that Doug was distrustful of most of the doctors, she couldn't blame him for that after what he'd been through, but Dr. Hudson was the exception.
Rahne climbed up into a chair next to him and leaned on his bed rail.
"It's good you can walk again, 'cause the school's big," Rahne said, "Real big. There are different floors and there's this really big staircase."
She leaned in and whispered;
"Wanda and I used to slide down it, even though dad told us not to. It was great."
Raven smiled and leaned against the doorway. Footsteps outside the door made her turn around. There was a soft sound just as she turned her head. No one was in the hallway and she frowned, turning the other way. A cloud of black smoke made her shriek and take a step back. A few seconds later Azazel materialized, laughing.
"That's not funny!" Raven protested.
Doug and Rahne laughed. Even Dr. Hudson hid a giggle behind her hand.
"Ah, you know it is funny devochka," Azazel said, "If children say it is funny, then it is funny. End of story."
She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. In the past few months since she'd seen him in the waiting room Raven had gotten to know Azazel quite well. He'd come to check up on Doug and report back to the Hellions. He'd been friends with Dr. Hudson, so he'd found himself there quite a bit. It hadn't taken him long to find out about Rahne's friendship with Doug.
"Ah, you are still mad?" Azazel asked.
Raven tilted her head back. She quite liked Azazel, even when he vacillated between child-like curiosity and ancient sobriety. He was still quite young, but had already mentored and trained two of the most respected members of the X-men. She didn't know how Emma saw him, but she knew that Clarice saw him as a father-figure. He had so many layers, so many things about him that she couldn't quite place.
As such she always looked forward to his visits.
"Don't I look mad?" Raven demanded.
Azazel narrowed his eyes in concentration.
"More like teacher who discovers worm in apple," he said.
Rahne and Doug began laughing again. Dr. Hudson looked merely amused. Raven rolled her eyes.
"Ah, wrong thing to say. I can tell," Azazel said, "You would be student who gave wormy apple. Nyet old enough for teatcher. I can see this."
Raven bristled at the reference to her age.
"I turned seventeen last month," she said.
"Da, and I turn twenty three two months before that," Azazel said, "What of it?"
For some reason his words further irritated her.
"I'm not a child," said Raven.
She could say that now. For so many years she'd said that to Charles, trying to get him to recognize her as something other than his baby sister. Now it was finally true. Of all people Azazel should know that. He'd taught her how to fight to some extent, even if she was getting to know him just then, and he'd seen her at the hospital. He should acknowledge it.
Instead Azazel shrugged, looking indifferent. Raven felt the urge to throw something at him and then throttle him. Repeatedly.
"Are they still joking?"
As one Raven and Azazel turned. She blushed as she saw the inquiring gazes of Doug, Rahne, and Dr. Hudson. Raven hated doing that, it turned her face an unflattering shade of purple, but she had good reason. She'd forgotten that they had an audience, and one that mainly consisted of young children at that. Azazel glanced over at her, a question in his gaze. She gave him a small nod.
"Da," Azazel said, "Is it nyet funny?"
"Not as funny as before," Rahne said.
"Well, I will have to do something else then," Azazel said, "Like tell another story. I have a good one about princess and dragon."
Rahne sniffed dismissively.
"The princesses are always weak," Rahne said.
"Of course daughter of Prime Minister would say that," Azazel said, "So in this story we shall have princess be dragonslayer."
Rahne's face brightened but Doug frowned.
"I can't see any princess doing that in those big dresses and glass slippers," Doug said.
Azazel tapped his chin and then jerked his head at Raven.
"Then just imagine Raven as princess," he said, "She would not let that get in the way, now would she?"
Raven blushed even as Doug shook his head.
"Of course nyet!" Azazel said, sitting down in a chair.
He looked behind him and winked at Raven before turning back to Doug.
"After all," he said, "She is seventeen."
Raven rolled her eyes before pulling up a chair. His stories, if not his jokes, were always amusing.