Another request by medred.
"Scott, do you want to tell me why a laser popped out between the tiles and incinerated my favorite chair?"
Jean stood with her arms crossed over what was left of her chair as Scott stood idly by the kitchen island with his morning coffee.
"Oh, that'll just be the Danger Room functions kicking in." Scott replied between sips.
Jean inhaled sharply as she tried to keep her strong emotions on the inside. "Honey… you turned my living room into a Danger Room?"
Scott stifles a smile from behind his mug. "Actually, I repurposed the entire house into a Danger Room scenario if need be."
For a brief moment, the words didn't register in Jean's mind as she furrowed her brows together. "What? Do you… do you want to run that by me again?" she asked with a tilt of her head.
"The whole house is a Danger Room."
Jean didn't get a chance to reply as one of the doors from the hall opened and out came Rachel, clad in only a towel around her torso. Her hair was also wet and stuck to her face and neck.
"Can someone explain why the showerhead just tried to attack me?" The young woman asked with a very perplexed expression. There were fresh blemish marks around her arms, indicating that the showerhead might have constricted her like some sort of snake.
"Yes Scott." Jean turned toward her husband, wearing a look of passive aggressiveness. "Please do explain."
Scott inwardly sighed. "Well I really missed the Danger Room from the Institute, and since that place is completely gone, I brought Forge in here to do me a favor and hook the place up. It's no Danger Grotto but—"
Rachel cut him off, sweeping some wet hair behind her ear. "Hold on, Danger Grotto?"
"Ask Banshee or Emma, I don't care."
There was a shout coming from Nathan's room as the boy opened and quickly closed the door, pressing the weight of his body against it. "The bed just tried to eat me." he said, all out of breath. Nathan was frantic for a moment before tossing a glance at his sister with confusion and slight disgust. "You uh… you going to put on some clothes?"
Rachel opened her mouth for a scathing reply, when her father supplied in. "Actually, everyone go put your costumes on! Meet back in the living room, we've got some work to do."
In a matter of ten minutes, the inhabitants of the Summer Home banded together in a straight line, save for Scott who paced before them with his arms folded behind his back. "Alright," he starts in the commanding voice he's developed over the years of leading the X-Men. "We are a family unit, and therefore, we must fight like one. I know you're all upset with me for weaponizing our home, but think of the possibilities! We'll be so tight knit, our family will be considered a small army!"
Scott stopped toward the end of the line with a screeching halt. "Jean, Gabriel. You two are Omega Level mutants. You are our heavy hitters on our team."
He then turned and stopped on the opposite side of the line. "Rachel, Nathan. You are the glue that binds us together, and Alex—"
Alex looked hopeful and anticipated his role from his brother's inspirational speech. But judging from Scott's brief silence, Alex's hopeful exterior faltered. "Alex," Scott started again. "You will be by my side! Alright? Any questions?"
Gabriel raised his hand as if they were in class but Scott simply ignored him.
"Great! I can already feel us bonding as a team!"
And bond they did not, the whole operation was a disaster. Everyone kept getting in everyone else's way, relegating some to the devices of the Danger Living Room. For instance, at one point Rachel's ankle was ensnared by a wire from the floor and she was dragged across the room. Gabriel, who was closest to her, did nothing to assist. Instead he made use of the small fire that was quickly forming because Nathan's gun had blasted a piece of flammable furniture. Due to Gabe's pension for fire, he played with it, burning everything else that was near it, leaving poor Rachel to save herself.
On the other hand, Scott, Jean, and Alex worked well together due to their many years on the same team. But it was hard to commit to greatness when Nathan would cut in and do his own thing.
Scott did his best to command his family, but everytime he opened his mouth to correct one person, someone else did something wrong. He quickly became weary and his throat quickly ran dry.
At the end of the session, Scott's disappointment wafted off of him, clear by his slack jaw and slight trembling fist.
"What was that?" Scott demanded. "We're X-Men. We're better than that."
"We each have different fighting styles Scott." Jean replied lightly. Scott was unlikely to snap at her, but he needed to calm down.
"Yeah," Rachel adds in agreement. "Have you considered that all of us together have ever been a team at the same time?"
"I…" Scott hung his head. "That is true."
He sighed and began to address the issues he had.
"Nathan, I know you haven't been with us for very long— at least this version of you anyway, and I know you're used to leading on your own. But you can't do whatever you want to do. And Gabe, I know that for a short almost nonexistent time, you also let your own X-Men. You also led the Shi'ar Empire, and just like Nathan, you're doing anything you want."
"Not to mention being distracted by the fire." Rachel mumbles, crossing her arms.
Gabriel knits his brows downward in a set expression. "The fire," he says. "It calls me."
"Honesty Gabriel, I would love to know what's wrong with you as much as the next person but you can't keep doing that." Scott remarked.
Gabriel stayed silent in response, because Scott was right. He didn't even need to say it either because as everyone knows what the T-shirt says.
Scott continues to address certain things but he does keep in mind that this was one of the first times they've ever worked together as a group in a controlled environment.
"Any questions?" Scott finally asked.
"Mm, yes." Jean raised her hand. "When will you be replacing all of my furniture?"
Scott sweat dropped and changed the subject. "Um… any other questions? Actually, who's up for another round hm?"
He was met with resounding "ughs" and "noooo's" as his family slouched and physically deflated.
"Okay…" Scott rubbed his nose bridge. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked alternatively, but they had already scattered and they were gone.