AN: Okay, so my motivation for this story is waning. Not the universe, I still love it - this was my first ever fandom, and you want to read some of my early stuff ...
Actually, scratch that, you REALLY don't!
But my actual motivation to put my headcanon on paper/screen - I just don't have any.
Therefore, I have written one last chapter for this story to act as an epilogue. I hope it ties up any loose ends and you all enjoy it as much as I have.
Some of you may recognise the first part as the opening chapter of 'Truth Hurts' which was a kind of rewrite of All's Fair that I decided against. Still, I loved the scene, so I rewrote it and put it in here.
July 2015
Summer at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters had become quite the affair over the last few years.
On this July morning, the summer stretched out in front of them like an endless ocean sparkling with possibility. It was a cloudless day, warm but with a gentle breeze that caressed the top branches of the trees that sheltered the scattered collection of houses below them.
Kitty Alvers had nothing too pressing to do that day, and was pottering around the kitchen making breakfast.
Her husband was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of coffee while he read the newspaper. His hair was shorter now, but his clothes had hardly changed, especially since he was going to work soon.
The idea Lance, Scott and the others had come up with fourteen years earlier had been a huge success, especially considering the fact that all of the children of the adult X-Men had developed powers before they hit double-digits.
Initially, the plan had been for those children to be taught at the Institute until they were old enough to enrol at Bayville High School, when they should also be old enough to manage their emotions and any powers triggered by them.
However, even though the general attitude towards mutants had greatly improved over the last decade, Edward Kelly was still the principal at BHS, despite numerous complaints against him.
So all of the children had chosen to remain at the Institute and get home-schooled, leaving the adults to sit down and work out some kind of educational plan.
Kitty and Amanda had both enrolled on a teacher-training course and taken charge of the elementary years. Kitty still did teach the younger children, but she also had now taken over the teaching of chemistry and physics, along with Hank and Ororo.
Kitty had never considered teaching until she tried it, but found that she enjoyed every minute of it, even if she was learning the art whilst helping her fiancé and then her husband learn business management very quickly.
With a little help, they had managed to keep the unexpectedly-inherited shop afloat and it was fairly successful, with a stream of very satisfied regulars, who were more than happy to recommend them.
It hasn't always been easy, and there had been a few times when they had both thought they wouldn't make it, but here they were.
With well-practiced fluidity, Lance moved the paper aside to make space for Kitty to set the plates on the table.
"Kids, breakfast!" She called up the stairs. "Anything interesting?" She asked, in a quieter voice.
Lance folded the paper up with a sigh. "You mean beside Friends of Humanity being complete dicks? No, nothing."
Kitty pursed her lips, but didn't comment. Friends of Humanity were a 'legitimate political group' who had become more than a large thorn in their sides recently.
Their latest play was to attempt to pass a Mutant Registration Act, forcing mutants across the county to go on file with where they lived and what they could do.
Kitty had never appreciated the public's change of opinion towards them more than she had in the last six months – the group had been plagued with nationwide protests and their proposed MRA thus far had failed to even get close to some kind of official office.
Lance tossed the paper to one side and eyed the pancakes with trepidation. "Did you make these?"
Kitty rolled her eyes. "The mixture came out of a bottle, Lance. Not even I could mess that up. Besides, I can cook!"
"Yes, you can," Lance agreed, transferring two of the pancakes on to his place. "You just can't bake. Pancakes count as baking."
"How?" Kitty asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You fry pancakes last time I checked."
"Face it, love – anything to do with precise measurements tends to go wrong," Lance said with a chuckle. "Remember the muffins?"
Everyone remembered the muffins. They were practically an urban legend by this point.
Kitty blushed, but quickly regained her composure. "Well, this didn't require any 'precise measurements'. Unless you count how precisely I'd need to pour the rest of this mixture so it lands on your head and not on the floor."
"Have I mentioned how great these pancakes are?" Lance asked innocently. "And you gorgeous you look this morning?"
"Flattery will get you nowhere, honey." Smiling in spite of her ominous warning, Kitty glanced at the ceiling. "Where are they?"
"It's summer, Kitten," Lance reminded her, pouring syrup on his pancakes. "They're probably still asleep."
"Liam won't be," Kitty predicted. Sure enough, as though her words were a herald, a pair of feet appeared through the ceiling, preceding a teenage boy who floated to the ground.
"Morning!"
Kitty turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Liam, how many times do I have to tell you …?"
"… to use the stairs because you don't know who's beneath you when you phase through the floor like that," Liam finished in unison with her, kissing her cheek. "I know it was just you and Dad, and you two don't mind."
Kitty shook her head with a fond smile. "Oh, Liam …"
When her oldest son was a week old, Pietro had predicted that he would look just like Lance one day. And he was right – the fifteen-year-old was the spitting image of his father, right down to his smile, but his personality and his mannerisms, however, were solely his mother's.
His room-mate appeared a second later, having arrived through the more traditional method.
"Good morning, Daniel," Kitty greeted with a smile. "Help yourself."
"Morning Mrs Alvers. Thank you."
Daniel Walters was one of only two members of Generation X who weren't related to the adults in any way, so when the children had come home for the summer and Liam had asked if Danny could bunk in his room rather than staying in an empty dorm, his parents had happily agreed.
A year younger than Liam and hailing, coincidentally, from Northbrook, Illinois, Danny had arrived at the Institute the previous summer, intending to stay for those months and then go back to 'real life'.
However, he had hit it off so well with everyone and fit so naturally, that within ten minutes of his mother picking him up in the fall, she had returned to enrol him full time.
Before they could say anything more, loud footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of their second child and oldest daughter. Calleigh favoured Kitty almost as strongly as Liam did Lance, except for her eyes, which were the same warm brown as her father and brother's.
Unlike Liam and Danny, Calleigh wasn't dressed yet. "Mom! Sprite's done it again!"
Kitty sighed heavily. The youngest Alvers child – named Serenity in a quiet moment after her birth that Lance liked to say was drug-induced when he thought his wife couldn't hear him – was still coming to terms with controlling her powers, and vivid dreams tended to cause small tremors, most of which shook her sister's room instead of her own.
Calleigh was a deep sleeper, and so used to her own sleep tremors that they rarely woke her, but they did create a mess."
"She can't help it, Princess," Lance said gently. "You were like that before you got control."
"I know that!" Calleigh said with a pout. "But …"
"Serenity will help you clean it up later," Kitty said firmly, emphasising the word 'help'.
"But, Mom, she made the mess!" Calleigh protested.
"Bu accident," Kitty reminded her gently. "You made a whole room cave in when you were a toddler. Did we make you clear it up all by yourself?"
Calleigh sighed. "No."
"Look at it this way, Princess," Lance said, "you've been promising to clean your room since May."
Calleigh grinned sheepishly. Her room had been a mess without Serenity's help since her fourteenth birthday. "Good point."
Kitty turned away to hide her smile. She had a feel that if she had made that point, Calleigh would not have taken it nearly as well.
But Calleigh Samantha Alvers was the very definition of a Daddy's girl and Lance was the often the only one who could reason with her – and, in return, she'd had him wrapped around her little finger from the moment she was born.
Calleigh and Liam sat down either side of their father, helping themselves to pancakes, bickering playfully over the syrup.
Kitty tuned it out, turning to the coffee machine to fill a thermos flask. Her eldest did this every morning and she knew they weren't really arguing – if they were, they'd be a lot louder.
Daniel waited patiently for a break in the fighting and stole the syrup for himself.
A noise in the hallway alerted them to their third child's arrival and he arrived with more noise than Liam and Calleigh put together.
"Watch it, Rick," Liam cautioned, rescuing the milk from his younger brother's arms before it hit the floor. "Breakfast isn't going anywhere."
"But Uncle Scott is!" The eleven-year-old said, spilling cereal over the table in his haste. "He's taking some of us to the beach today, remember?"
Kitty chuckled fondly, sweeping the excess cereal off the table and back into the packet. "He won't go without you, Thomas, I promise."
Thomas Paul Alvers had been born at three o'clock in the morning in the middle of an evacuation, which had been halted when it was discovered that the mysterious earthquake – that wasn't being caused by Lance or Calleigh – was, in fact, pulsing in time with Kitty's contractions.
'Richter' had quickly been shortened to 'Rick' – and Kitty wasn't even sure anyone but her even remembered his real name anymore.
"You sure?" Rick asked worriedly.
"I'm sure," Kitty answered, smiling. "Now slow down. Uncle Scott and Aunt Jean can't take you to the beach if you choke to death first."
"What are you doing today?" Lance asked.
"Tennis lessons all morning," Kitty said cheerfully. "If the weather stays nice, we're going to set up a game of water polo this afternoon."
During the summer, to give the students and staff a break, the school ran like a summer camp, and the adults took it upon themselves to hold optional classes on everything from sports, to art, to music.
"What about you two?" Kitty asked.
"Ben and I are going over lines for 'Midsummer's," Calleigh answered.
Kitty smiled affectionately; Calleigh had only had a small walk-on role in the last school production, so she was very proud of being cast as Hermia this year. "And where are you and Lysander meeting?"
"He's coming here," Calleigh told her. "That's alright, isn't it?"
"Of course, honey," Kitty said. "He can help you and Reyna before you start."
Calleigh grimaced, having apparently forgotten that her room was a mess. "Right."
"What about you two?" Lance asked the boys.
"Casanova has a date," Danny said with a grin. "So tennis sounds good."
"You can't call him a Casanova when he's only ever had one girlfriend," Calleigh said.
Liam rolled his eyes. "Only you could make that sound like a compliment and an insult at the same time."
Lance checked his watch. "I've got to go. Amy's opening today, but it's not fair to leave her on her own for too long."
Amy was the only girl in her automobile engineering class in the local community college. She had come in asking for a job, with the pessimistic air of someone who had been laughed out of the last five garages she'd been to. They had taken her on part-time, and then offered to extend her contract when she graduated, which she had happily accepted.
She was very fond of the children, and was round for dinner several times a week.
Kitty liked to joke that she was their fifth child.
"Serenity!" Kitty called, as Rick hugged his father. "Daddy's going to work."
Lance ruffled Liam's hair, clapping him on the shoulder, just as a seven-year-old missile burst into the room.
"Morning Sprite," Liam and Rick greeted in unison.
"Could you be any louder?" Calleigh asked, rolling her eyes.
Serenity ignored them all in favour of hurling herself at her father, who caught her and lifted her into the air, kissing her cheek.
"Have a good day, Daddy."
"I always do, Reyna," Lance said, returning her to the ground. "You're helping Calleigh clean her room today."
"But Daddy …" Serenity began.
"No buts," Lance said firmly, crouching down to her eye level. "You helped make the mess; you help clean it up."
"But it was an accident," Serenity protested, her lower lip trembling.
"I know," Lance assured her. "That's why you're helping her and we're not making you do it all by yourself." He straightened up and pulled Calleigh into a hug. "Keep Lightning in line, Princess."
"Will do, Dad," Calleigh responded as he kissed forehead. "Be nice to Amy."
Lance grinned at his eldest daughter. "When am I not nice to Amy?"
"Well, there was that time that …"
"Alright!" Lance interrupted, shooting Liam a mock-glare. "I'll be nice, Princess. Happy?"
Calleigh nodded, and he released her to turn to his wife, only to be interrupted before he could say anything.
"Uh oh!" Rick called. "PDA alert!" He leapt to his feet, grabbed Serenity's hand, and dragged her from the room while she giggled uncontrollably. "Quick! Save yourselves! Women and children and me first!"
Kitty shook her head. "God help us – he's got your sense of humour."
"Me?" Lance answered. "That was all you." Cupping her face, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Have a good day."
"You as well," Kitty said. "Love you."
"Love you too." With one more kiss, Lance took the thermos flask she handed him and left the house, grabbing the car keys on the way.
Kitty checked her watch. "Thomas, have you finished breakfast?"
"All done, Mom." Rick stuck his head around the door. "Is it safe?"
Liam sniggered. "Yeah, it's safe." He put his plate in the dishwasher, holding his hand out expectantly for Calleigh's. "Do you want me to walk Rick over to their place, Mom?"
"That would be a big help, Liam; thank you," Kitty said. "Thomas, make sure you have …"
"Lotion, hat, towel, change of clothes, bathing suit, sunglasses," Rick finished, holding up his backpack. "Got it ready last night."
Kitty bit down a laugh, but before she could remark that this kind of organisation never carried over into his homework, an alarm began to blare and she turned sharply towards the pin-board on the kitchen wall.
It was fairly empty this morning, since it was summer, bearing only a shopping list (not yet long enough to warrant a trip) and a coded message reminding her to pick up Thomas's birthday present – she and Lance had finally caved and decided to get him a puppy (not that he knew that yet).
The cause for her attention, however, was the row of lights above the pin board, each of which related to a separate team and was generally used to call them to training.
There were no formal training sessions planned for today, however, and Kitty relaxed even further when she realised it was the furthest light on the right that was illuminated.
"What does that one mean?" Daniel asked.
Kitty smiled. "It's the birthday alarm. The baby's coming."
"Does that mean the beach is cancelled?" Thomas asked, disappointed.
"Aunt Jean will probably want to be on base," Kitty said, "but I would imagine Uncle Scott will still take you."
"Do I need to cancel?" Liam asked.
Now Kitty did laugh. "It's a baby, sweetheart, not a bomb. Take her out before it starts raining."
"Thor can deal with that," Liam said, patting Danny on the shoulder.
"No," Daniel and Kitty said in unison.
"Just because I can change the weather doesn't mean I should," Daniel said. "The locals would start to whinge."
"Not if it gives them wall-to-wall sunshine they won't," Liam said.
"Liam …" Kitty said, a hint of warning in her voice. "Take your brother over to Uncle Scott's, would you? Calleigh, Serenity, get to it."
Calleigh sighed, taking her little sister's hand. "Yes, Mom."
Kitty kissed her two sons and wished them a good day, and they headed out of the door into the sunshine.
Halfway to their aunt and uncle's house, a telepathic message washed over the whole team letting them know that the trip was still going ahead.
Liam left his brother at their garden gate and kept walking until he reached his girlfriend's house.
Doors were rarely locked around the Institute – with the amount of security at main gates, it was rather unnecessary – so he let himself in through the front door.
His girlfriend was standing beside the kitchen table, with her back to him, talking to her mother.
As she put her coffee cup down, Liam snuck up behind her and poked her in the sides, sniggering when she squealed and phasing through the ice that formed over his hands.
"Oh, you are the worst!" Cindy protested, spinning around to face him. "Why do I put up with you?!"
"Because you love me," Liam said cheerfully, kissing her cheek. "Morning, Jubilee."
"Good morning, Liam," Jubilee greeted, grinning at the two. "Do you two need a lift to the mall?"
"I think we're okay," Cindy said, raising her voice as her younger brother came barrelling into the kitchen. "Thanks though, Mom."
"Callum, this is not a racing track," Jubilee said tiredly.
"Sorry, Mom! Bye, Mom!" Callum almost escaped out the door, before his mother caught his arm and wrangled him back inside.
Three years younger than Cindy, Callum had single-handedly destroyed Jubilee's reasoning for a long engagement.
"I just don't want people to think we got married because I got pregnant," she'd said at the time.
So their wedding photos had Cindy old enough to participate, as planned.
But her wedding dress was still let out around a baby bump.
Now twelve years old and full of energy, Callum James Drake spent most of his time with his best friend, definitely not setting of small explosions.
"Just one moment, young man," Jubilee said. "Uncle Ron and Aunt Tara will be here this afternoon with Carly."
Bobby's parents never had come around, but his younger brother was another story.
Disgusted by their reaction to mutants, he had cut ties with their parents and now he and his wife, and their daughter (now five), were regular visitors.
Callum pulled a face. When Carly was born, he had lamented the fact that she couldn't play with him.
Now she could, he wished she wouldn't.
"And don't pull that face," Jubilee added. "You don't have to stay, but I would like you here when they get here."
"Do you want Mom to send Reyna round?" Liam offered. "She's not that much older than Carly."
"I might give your mom a call actually," Jubilee said. "Thanks Liam. You two go; you don't need to hang around. Uncle Ron will be here at 4."
"We'll be back by then," Cindy said. "See, Cal, it's not just you."
Callum sighed. "Fine, Mom; I'll be home by 4. Can I go now?"
"Go on then," Jubilee said, her lips twitching. "Go and cause trouble."
Callum dashed out the door and down the garden path, rounding a few trees to almost collide with John, who caught him and swung him round.
"Whoa! Careful, mate!"
"Hi Uncle John! Did you have a good time?"
John laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "We always do."
John and Amara – Cindy and Callum's godmother – had returned from a visit to Nova Roma the day before.
Now she was no longer the Heir Apparent, Amara's relationship with her homeland was much more relaxed. She and John tried to visit every summer so the children could see their grandparents and their aunt and uncle, and to learn about their heritage.
John had no wishes to return to Australia. He had still not seen his sister since the night their parents died, and he was in no rush to change that – and he was sure Charlotte felt the same way.
"Are you going to work?" Callum asked.
"No, kiddo; I'm heading up to the school to keep Daddy calm," John said. "Might not be the first kid, but it's still terrifying. Go on; he's waiting for you."
Callum darted through the Allerdyces' front door and Amara greeted her godson with a big hug that he only half-heartedly tried to squirm out of.
"Callum!"
A month away from his twelfth birthday, Joshua Allerdyce bounded into the hall and greeted his best friend with a secret handshake that made his sister roll her eyes as she slipped past them, kissing her mother on the cheek.
"See you later, Mom."
"Have fun, Ellie," Amara said.
"With your boyfriend," Josh added with a grin.
"He's not my boyfriend!" Eloise protested.
"But you love him!" Josh sang out.
"Joshua," Amara said warningly. "You and Callum go and do … whatever you're planning. Eloise, do not retaliate."
Eloise settled for giving her younger brother a dirty look, turned on her heel and left the house, to go and meet her best friend.
Angelo Espinosa was the only other member of Generation X that was not directly related to any of the adults. A few months older than Eloise, Ororo had found him on a visit to her sister.
His mutation consisted of extremely elasticated skin, and with no control, had left him with a lumpy, greyish complexion that had led to him being passed from care home to care home until he finally just ended up on the streets.
Eloise and Angelo had been best friends since the moment they had met and, in spite of her brother's teasing, she did not have a crush on him.
Quite lucky, really, as she was the only person who knew that he was secretly smitten with someone else.
During the summer, the sixteen-year-old stayed with Ray and Sarah, both of whom had lived through similar lives.
When Eloise got there, Ray was in the front yard, hanging out the laundry.
"Morning Ellie!"
"Morning," Eloise said. "Is Angelo …?"
"Right here," her best friend said, appearing out the front door.
Beside him was Annabelle Crisp-Rushman, Ray and Sarah's only child. Sarah Rushman – because she and Ray had never married – held the current title holder of the longest unknown pregnancy – and was unlikely to lose it anytime soon, as she had found out after Annabelle was born. She had somehow managed to get through nine months with no symptoms except a little weight gain, and had mistaken labour pains for nasty constipation.
Annabelle, therefore, had the dubious claim of starting her life by being fished from a toilet bowl.
It was not a claim she liked to shout about, oddly enough.
Today, her red hair was loose around her shoulders, which was unusual, since Annie preferred to tie it up.
"I can't tie it up," Annabelle said, as though she'd read Eloise's mind. "I can't get rid of them."
"Get rid of what?" Eloise asked.
In answer, Annabelle lifted her hair to show a row of spiny plates that had grown over the back of her neck. "Where's Mom?"
"She's gone to work, honey," Ray answered. "Why don't you see if Evan's available? He might be able to help?"
Annabelle's face brightened again. "Good idea. Thanks, Dad!"
She blew her father a kiss, waved at Eloise, and jogged off through the trees.
Evan was available, as it turned out. He greeted her with a smile and invited her in to the kitchen, where Wanda made her a cup of coffee.
They had been married eleven years now, and their daughter would be turning nine in September. Fiona was eating her breakfast when Annabelle arrived, and she ruffled the young girl's hair as she walked past.
"Hi Fiona."
"Hi Annie," Fiona said through a mouthful of cereal.
Wanda tapped her daughter on the head. "Swallow first please."
Fiona swallowed her mouthful. "Do you need Daddy's help, Annie?"
"I do," Annabelle said. "I have a bit of a problem."
"What's that?" Evan asked.
Annabelle pulled her hair out the way again to show him the back of her neck. "I woke up like this, which isn't unusual, but I can't make it go away. And Mom's at work."
"We should be able to get that sorted," Evan said.
Wanda checked her watch. "I'm late. Good luck; I'll see you later."
Normally, lateness wasn't really something that mattered at the Institute – it was hard to when you were never more than five minutes away from where you were going.
Wanda was only going next door, so it should be almost impossible to be late.
Impossible, that is, unless you were dealing with her brother, who timed everything by the second rather than the minute.
"Save the date," Lexa said, when her sister-in-law walked in. "He's actually running late."
"No, he's not," Wanda said automatically.
"He is," Lexa said with a grin, leaning against the kitchen side. "Mainly because I turned his alarm off last night."
"Seriously?"
Lexa shrugged. "Sometimes I don't feel like getting up at the crack of dawn. His body clock wakes him up anyway; I don't see why I should have to suffer with it. It just didn't this morning."
"I will get you back," Pietro said, appearing in the doorway.
"Pietro, it's not a big deal," Wanda said. "We're just going out for coffee."
"It's the principle of the thing," Pietro said, kissing his wife's cheek as he passed. "Ready?"
Wanda rolled her eyes. "Right behind you. See you later, Lexa."
Lexa hid her smile behind her coffee as the twins disappeared out of the front door, still bickering. Her phone beeped with an alarm, and she set her mug in the dishwasher. "Alana!"
Just two weeks after that Christmas, when Lexa was five and a half months pregnant, the ultrasound had finally given her the results she was too afraid to hope for: a heartbeat, which was swiftly followed by an incredible kick.
Benjamin Logan Maximoff had come screaming into the world that April, just a month before Calleigh Alvers, and the two had been inseparable ever since.
Ben had already left the house that morning, headed to the Alvers home to rehearse with Calleigh (at least, Lexa hoped they were going to rehearse and not just make out).
Her second pregnancy had, thankfully, been nowhere near as dramatic as the first. Now ten, Alana Deborah Maximoff came running down the stairs, brimming with excitement.
"Is it time? Is it time?"
"Yes, it's time," Lexa said, taking her daughter's hand.
Alana had little interest in sports. Certainly, she would join in, if there were no other options available, or if someone was a player short, but she much preferred curling up somewhere with a book.
Not only was this totally at odds with her powers – she and Ben had both inherited their father's speed – but no one could quite figure out how Pietro and Lexa, both very active, had managed to produce such a bookworm.
Still, however bewildering it was, Lexa was very proud of her daughter, who had announced at the young age of five that she was going to be a veterinarian.
Lexa still wasn't completely convinced this particular wish would remain once Alana saw the amount of blood the job entailed, but she was, if nothing, supportive.
So on her way to help Kitty with the tennis lessons, she stopped off at the Guthries' home.
"Morning Lex," Sam said, his voice muffled.
Lexa bent down to look under the truck so she could have a sort-of face-to-face conversation. "Hey Sam. Can I leave Lana with you?"
"Not a problem." Sam emerged from under the cab, his face streaked with motor oil. "Sorry about that," he added, gesturing to the truck. "She's been complaining all week."
"Might be time for a new one," Lexa said.
"Nah, she's got years in her," Sam said. "You excited, Alana?"
Alana nodded eagerly, vibrating with excitement.
Literally, Lexa realised.
"Calm down," she cautioned, stroking her daughter's hair. "Or you'll hurt yourself."
Alana took a deep breath, her heart rate slowing back to a normal pace, just as Rahne stepped out the front door with her two daughters.
"Good morning."
"Morning," Lexa said. "I'll leave her with you. Have fun, sweetheart." She kissed Alana on the forehead and jogged off.
Rahne was already dressed in her veterinary scrubs. Once it became clear that Alana's dream was not fleeting, but her attention span (like her father's) often was, Rahne made a deal with Alana – she would take Alana to work with her for a day that summer, as long as Alana kept her grades up.
Alana had kept her side of the bargain; now she got to reap the rewards.
"Hi Alana," Rahne said. "You ready to go?"
Alana nodded eagerly. "I can't wait."
"Well, don't get too excited yet," Rahne warned with a smile. "It's really not a very exciting day at the moment."
"But anything can happen right?" Alana asked.
"It can," Rahne agreed. "And it does. Honey, how's the engine?"
Sam turned the ignition, but nothing happened. "Apparently, I've made it worse."
Rahne stifled a laugh. "Okay, girls, let's leave Daddy to it; Alana and I need to go, so can you two go to Auntie Paige's house please?" She hugged her daughters. "Please be good."
"We will!"
Nine-year-old twins, Brittany and Melody had all the mischief of most of their peers, except doubled, since they tended to bounce off each other.
In fact they were scarily reminiscent of Joseph and Monica Summers when they were younger.
The two girls trotted off hand-in-hand to next door, darting through the open door, and jumping on their Uncle Jamie, who immediately split in half to grab one each, tickling them mercilessly.
"Aunt Paige, Aunt Paige!"
Paige laughed. "Jamie, leave the poor girls alone."
"They started it," two voices said in unison.
"Unhand my nieces," Paige said, trying and failing to sound stern. "And pull yourself together."
"Well, you are no fun," Jamie said, letting the twins go. With a blur, his clone vanished.
"Lola," Paige called. "Time to go!"
"Coming!"
Their daughter – just seven months older than her cousins – came running into the kitchen, the three girls greeting each other with squeals of excitement.
Jamie winced. "They saw each other yesterday. It hasn't even been twelve hours."
"Welcome to pre-teen girls," Paige said breezily. "It's only going to get worse. Come on, girls."
Jamie and Paige both worked as social workers in the city, so while Jamie got the car ready, she took her daughter and her nieces through the trees to the Wagners' house.
While Kitty had more or less moved on to teaching the older kids, Amanda was still teaching the elementary classes.
During the summer, that meant that she rarely got away from her students.
The door was opened by twelve-year-old Marcus Wagner. He had been born without his father's blue fur (much to Kurt's relief), but his eyes were still a stunning shade of yellow.
"Hi Firefly."
"Hi Mark," Paige said, steering the three girls through the front door. "Morning Amanda," she called.
"Morning," Amanda called back, hugging the girls in greeting. "I've got them. Go to work."
Kurt teleported into the kitchen, flinching immediately when he was immediately hit with three-fold screaming. "Thanks for the warning."
"If you walked like normal people, you'd have had a warning," Amanda said, clapping her hands. "Alright, ladies, what's happening today? Do you know?"
"The baby's being born!" Lola said.
"That's right," Amanda said. "So I thought we could make some cards for them. What do you think?"
The girls were very happy about that, so Amanda sent them through into their dining room, which got turned into a classroom during the summer.
"Well, good luck with that," Kurt said, kissing his wife. "I'm going to try and talk logic. Mark, if you don't go now, Scott's going to leave without you."
Marcus shouldered his backpack. "I'm going, I'm going!"
Father and son headed down the garden path together, splitting at the gate. While Marcus jogged off in the direction of the Summers' home, Kurt walked the short distance to the LeBeau house.
Their house looked like a miniature plantation home, one of the prettier houses in the grounds, in Kurt's opinion. He let himself in through the front door, finding his sister in the front room, in uniform.
"You know, when there isn't a training session, you don't have to do it," he said.
"I'm not coming with you," Anna said.
Kurt blinked. "You know, that statement doesn't match what I said."
Anna rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, I feel like a good training session. Especially when Mother's involved."
"Anna, it's lunch," Kurt said in exasperation. "It's just lunch."
"And you can have lunch with her," Anna said. "I won't stop you."
"Won't stop him from what?"
Kurt glanced over his shoulder. "Hey Lorelai."
Lorelai smiled, tucking her white streak behind her ear. "Hi Uncle Kurt."
Her eyes were green today.
Lorelai had always had her father's eyes and his powers, but when she was six years old another power had become evident: she had a form of metamorphosis that entailed tearing off layers of skin to leave a new visage beneath.
Generally, she only ever used it to change her eye colour, especially when she was going into Bayville, which was 90% tolerant and 10% assholes.
Unfortunately, the assholes were the loudest, and sometimes Lorelai did not have the energy to deal with them.
Like today, clearly.
"What's going on?" Lorelai asked.
"Uncle Kurt wants me to go and have lunch with him and Grandma," Anna explained.
Lorelai rolled her eyes. "So what's the big deal?"
"Honey, just because you get along with Grandma, doesn't mean everyone does," Anna said.
"You get along with her," Lorelai argued.
"I tolerate her for your sake," Anna said with a sigh. "And you're going to be late."
Lorelai glanced at her watch. "Alright, I'm going. It's just lunch, Mom. No one's asking you to give her a kidney."
She missed her mother's response, because she was already out the door.
She followed the same path Marcus had followed earlier, waving to Scott and the van full of kids as they pulled out of the driveway.
The front door stood open but she still tapped her knuckles against the wood as she walked in.
The kitchen was emptier than it usually was when she came over, probably because two of the five Grey-Summers kids had just left with their father.
Fortunately, the second set of twins – Nate and Jason – had not come as much of a surprise as the first.
Unfortunately, whilst they had both followed in Monica's footsteps inheriting their father's powers, they hadn't both inherited her control.
The day Jason blown a hole in the living room wall and had to put on a pair of red shades, Scott had locked himself in a dark room for two weeks.
Thankfully Jason had dealt with it with far more grace and he immediately started making jokes about how now everyone could tell the difference between him and his brother.
Joey and Monica had never managed to shake the childhood nicknames given in jest, and 'Search' and 'Destroy' were now the second-in-command and the leader of Generation X respectively.
"Hey Lorelai," Monica greeted. "Are you here to take my brother off my hands?"
"If you don't mind," Lorelai said with a grin.
"Mind?" Monica asked. "I'd thank you."
"You're hilarious," a male voice grumbled.
A pair of arms slipped around Lorelai's waist and a kiss landed on her neck. "Hey, gorgeous."
"Hi honey," Lorelai said. "You ready?"
"When you are," Joey said. His arms tightened around her and her feet left the floor, possibly assisted by his telekinesis as well as his physical strength.
Lorelai let out a squeak. "Joey!"
"Sorry babe," Joey said, unrepentantly, setting her down a foot to their right. "Rachel's running late, and we're about to get run over."
As if on cue, ten-year-old Rachel Anne Summers came sprinting into the kitchen, her red hair flying behind her. "Hi Lorie," she called, dashing past them. "Bye Lorie!"
Of all of the younger generation, Rachel had the latest-blooming powers, with the exception of Daniel and Angelo, whose parents were not mutant (at least as far as anyone could tell in Angelo's case). She had been eight years old when her telepathy first appeared, during a minor emergency, in which she not only managed to successfully use Cerebro but actually projected her image to her parents, who had been temporarily away from home.
Rachel practically burst in to their neighbour's kitchen. "Sorry I'm late!"
Her Uncle Alex grabbed his chest and pretended to pass out from shock.
"Dad," Chloe sighed. "Don't be ridiculous."
"He can't help it, honey; it's hereditary," Lorna said, tugging her son, Adam, back upright. "It's alright, Rach; I'm running late as well."
Their engagement, followed very swiftly by Lorna's pregnancy, had led Lorna to make a trip back to the children's home, where she had grown up, to invite Marion Roberts to the wedding.
Amazingly, the day she chose to visit, Marion had received another visit from Elizabeth Dane, who was looking for her daughter.
Her daughter, Elizabeth explained, had been born when she was only sixteen and her parents had tolerated the situation for three years, until Lorna's hair began to turn green.
At that point, they offered to take their granddaughter while Elizabeth had a weekend away, and then drove for miles to leave Lorna outside a random children's home.
Heartbroken, Elizabeth had cut all ties with her parents, but had managed to wait until her daughter was eighteen before starting to look for her, not wanting to uproot her all over again if she had been adopted.
Understandably, Elizabeth was overjoyed to be reunited with her daughter, and Lorna was relieved to learn that her mother had not chosen to abandon her.
Elizabeth had promptly moved to Bayville, and now worked as an administrator at the Institute.
Proving that multiple births did not just run in the Grey-Alvers family, her pregnancy had resulted in triplets: one boy, Adam, who took after their father in almost every way, and two girls, Leslie and Chloe, who took after their mother.
Putting her coffee cup in the sink, Lorna kissed her husband and her two remaining children – Leslie had gone with Scott to the beach – and ushered Rachel out of the house and to the car.
Lorna's job – still a fashion designer – absolutely fascinated Rachel, so she had cleared it with her office to take her niece in to work with her for the day.
The housing part of the grounds had a separate gate, which opened automatically as they approached.
As they turned right and approached the main gate of the Institute, they came across another car that stopped to let them pass, flashing their lights in greeting.
Once they had passed, Cecelia Brown turned into the main gates, leaning out the driver's side window to scan her palm.
The gates swung open and she pulled up outside the school.
Since her article about the Worthington Christmas Party had been followed up by the article announcing Warren and Taryn's engagement, C.C. had become a respected journalist in her own right, and not just as the heir to a successful publishing company.
On top of that, she acted as the publish relations manager for the X-Men and the Institute.
As soon as she entered the front door, she ran into Belladonna almost immediately.
"Hey babe!"
"Hey!" Bella kissed her quickly. "Can't wait, honey; I'm needed for the delivery."
"Oh, she's having the baby?" C.C. asked with a smile.
"Yeah, labour started an hour ago," Bella answered. "Did the adoption agency call?"
"They did," C.C. said, her smile widening. "We've been approved!"
Belladonna's jaw dropped for a second, before she wrapped her girlfriend in a tight embrace, spinning her around. "We're getting a baby!" Her pager beeped on her belt.
"But theirs is coming sooner," C.C. said with a laugh. "Go on – we'll talk later. Are they …?"
"Living room," Bella called over her shoulder, hurrying for the elevator. "And John's in the kitchen."
Cecelia headed in the opposite direction and opened the door to the living room.
"Aunt C.C.!"
She knelt down quickly to catch the little girl that flew – quite literally – into her arms.
"Hi Gem-Gem!"
Ten-year-old Gemma Worthington hugged her aunt tightly, before her sisters collided with them as well.
The Institute's second set of triplets had been born after several heart-breaking years for their parents, and were, incredibly, not all identical.
Gemma, with her dark hair and fluffy white wings – retractable unlike her father's – was the stark opposite to Sophie and Emily, who had both inherited their mother's powers, but their dad's blonde hair and blue eyes.
C.C. hugged all of her goddaughters tightly, before rising to kiss her brother's cheek. "How was the vacation?"
"Oh, they had a blast," Warren said, grinning. "Taryn and I, not so much."
"That's because we weren't on a vacation," Taryn said wryly. "We were on a business trip."
Like most of the adults, they both taught at the Institute – Warren, Economics and Business Management; Taryn, American Literature and Music – but they also worked for Worthington Enterprises.
To be more precise, Taryn worked for Warren, as he had become CEO of the company after his father retired.
Warren II had never come to terms with his son's mutation – or his daughter-in-law's or grandchildren's for that matter – but Charlotte had come around faster than even Warren could have guessed.
She adored all of them, gushing about her granddaughters to anyone who would stand still for long enough to listen.
"I'm glad you're here, C.C," Warren began.
"Because you need to go into work and you need someone to watch the girls," C.C. finished with a smile.
"Are we that predictable?" Taryn asked.
"No," C.C. said, "but a business trip usually warrants a trip to the office. It's alright; I've got them."
At that moment, the front door opened, there were running footsteps, and eight-year-old Erica Tolensky appeared in the doorway.
With a squeal, the four girls pounced on each other, running off to play, swiftly followed by Erica's brother, Jackson.
"Okay, no I don't," C.C. said. "But go, anyway."
"I'm sorry," Lucie said as she walked in. "My children seem to have kidnapped yours."
"Oh, they'll be fine," Taryn said. "We've got to go into the office; give her our love."
"We will," Lucie said, collapsing into the nearest chair. "Don't have twins."
"We'll take whoever comes to us," C.C. said with a grin.
"Obviously," Lucie agreed. "But don't have twins."
"Are you ready to be a godmother?" C.C. asked.
Lucie beamed. "I'm stupidly excited. It's like having another baby, but I don't have to give birth; it's amazing!"
C.C. glanced. "Where's Todd?"
"Oh, they called him into work," Lucie said. "One of his colleagues didn't show up so they need him to cover his shift."
While Lucie taught at Geography at the Institute and – to her father's irritation – acted as the liaison between the X-Men and the military, Todd had wound up working at a security company of all places. He had grown out of his 'skinny adolescence' phase and bulked out quite a bit, which made the uniform less jarring, but it still surprised everyone that he had chosen that as a career.
Less surprising was his best friend, Freddie, who was now the head chef at a restaurant in Manhattan that was almost consistently fully booked.
"Do you want to wait down near the infirmary?" C.C. asked. "I'm happy to keep an ear out for the twins."
"Thank you, but I'll stay up here," Lucie said. "Far comfier."
"That is true," C.C. conceded.
John stuck his head round the door. "Making a brew, ladies; do you want anything?"
"I could murder a coffee," Lucie said with a sigh.
The elevator doors pinged, they all looked up, but rather than Belladonna, it was a young girl with blonde hair who emerged, flinging herself at John.
"Hey there Shelia!" John caught his goddaughter, swinging her round in a circle. "I was wondering where you were!"
"I was with Momma; my brother's coming today!"
"Well, then, that means I'm in the right place."
Nine-year-old Lily Rasputin wriggled out of her godfather's arms and jumped at her Aunt Illyana, who pretended to be knocked back by the young girl's force.
"Good Lord, child; stop growing!"
Lily burst into giggles as her aunt caught her and tickled her.
"Leave the poor child alone," John chided, 'rescuing' her, and drawing Illyana into a hug. "You alright?"
"It's apples," Illyana said with a grin.
John sighed. "She's apples, love, but close enough."
"Who's apples?" Illyana asked innocently.
"It's a …" John broke off, and pointed at her. "Don't start."
Illyana laughed, and jogged over to hug Lucie, who rose to greet her.
A far cry from the thin, frail child who had first arrived at the Institute in John's arms eighteen years ago, Illyana had grown into a lovely young woman, whose Russian heritage was only just noticeable in the twinge of her accent, but who had ended up fluent in several languages. She now worked as a translator – and a liaison – for the United Nations.
"How's Mom doing, Lily?" Illyana asked.
"Good," Lily said brightly. "Jean told me to come and wait with Uncle John and Aunt Lucie because she thinks he's going to be here soon."
"A bit sooner than soon," John corrected. "Jean's just made contact. She thinks we need to go downstairs now."
"Go on," C.C said. "I've got the kids. Give him a cuddle from me, Lily."
"I will," Lily said, practically vibrating with excitement and pulling John towards the elevator. "Come on!"
John laughed. "Slow down, love; they're not going anywhere."
Illyana took her other hand and the godparents, aunt and big sister stepped into the elevator.
The ride downstairs was barely a minute long, but as soon as the door opened, Lily darted out.
"Slow down, возлюбленная," Illyana called. "It's still an infirmary."
Bella stepped through the door at that moment, catching Lily. "Whoa, careful!"
"Is he here?" Lily asked. "Is he here? Is he okay? Is Momma okay? Can we see them?"
"Lily, they're both okay," Bella said gently. "But he's only a baby and he's very little, so you need to be calm, okay?"
Illyana caught up with her, taking her hand. "We can do that, can't we Petal?"
Lily nodded eagerly. "Uh huh."
Bella smiled. "Okay, come on in."
Jean was just washing her hands when they entered. "Hi Lily," she said in a hushed tone. "Hi Illyana; welcome home."
"Thank you," Illyana said, pointing at the curtained bed. "Through there?"
"Come through," her sister-in-law called.
Illyana moved the curtain to one side, embracing her brother with one arm. "Congratulations."
"Thank you, Ana." Piotr kissed her head and scooped up his daughter. "Your brother wants to meet you."
Illyana moved to the other side of the bed, as John and Lucie stepped into the cubicle as well. Her nephew was nestled safely in his mother's arms, his tiny face still rather red.
Still, he stole her heart just as easily as his sister had nine years earlier. "Hi sweetie!" She cooed. "How do you feel?" She asked his mother.
Tabitha smiled weakly. "Tired. Exhausted, actually, but he was totally worth it."
Of all the couples that had formed at the Institute, Piotr and Tabitha was one that no one had seen coming.
One quiet and reserved, the other loud and outgoing, they seemed the dictionary definition of 'opposites attract'.
However, no one could deny that they slipped into a relationship seamlessly, and Tabby had never even flinched at the fact that her relationship with her sister-in-law was going to need to be more like a mother-daughter bond, than a sisterly one.
"Momma, can I have a cuddle?" Lily asked.
Tabby smiled at her. "With me or the baby?"
Lily thought for a second. "Both?"
Tabby laughed. "Alright, sweetie; come on up here." She shifted the baby to one arm and tucked Lily against her side, before moving the baby back so he was lying on Lily's lap. "Tuck your arm under him. That's it."
"He's tiny!" Lily whispered, wide-eyed.
"What's his name?" Lucie asked, taking a photograph of the family. "And can we tell people?"
"Yeah, send it round," Tabby said, stroking her daughter's hair. "His name is Michael. Michael Piotr Rasputin."
"Hi Michael," Lily said. "I'm your big sister. And you have so many cousins you're not going to be able to count them. But they're all going to look after you. Because we have the best family in the world."