A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, guys! You make my day.

I warn you that this chapter contains humor, drama, sexual topics, violence, revenge and another classic reunion. Enjoy, and review!

Chapter 24 - Hopes

Denver International was packed with travelers returning or arriving for the holidays. The three taxis that took a special group of tourists and their oddly small amount of luggage to the airport mingled unnoticed among other hundred vehicles.

Scott and Jean, along with Nathan and Rachel -also known as the Kirby family-, stood in the priority line to proceed with the check in, while Hank and Bobby waited for their turn in the much longer, standard queue. Warren was nowhere to be seen - he had informed his friends he was going to accompany Candy to her check in counter, given that her flight to New York was scheduled to depart sooner than theirs to London.

Scott had Nate clutched to his chest by a baby carrier and had a brown military-style rucksack with their documents, diapers and some personal items over his back. He was also carrying one roller bag filled with unfamiliar clothes and shoes for him and Nathan. Jean was pushing her daughter's brand new stroller, using telekinesis to cushion her step every time her left foot touched the floor - her thigh was still too sore for her not to limp. She was also carrying a backpack with Rachel's things and a roller bag that matched Scott's but was slightly smaller.

'So far, so good,' Cyclops sent into her mind as the airline attendant checked their tickets and passports.

"Any luggage to dispatch, Mr. Kirby?" The woman behind the counter asked.

"Yes, two pieces," he answered, placing his bag over the weighing balance first and Jean's next. "And we also need to dispatch our daughter's stroller," he added, turning around to glimpse at the redhead's face. She looked taken aback by his words. 'Sorry,' he broadcasted to her.

'It's okay,' she replied telepathically, forcing a grin to let him know she wasn't angry.

"You can keep the stroller for now, Mr. Kirby. The inflight crew will take care of it after you and your family are seated," the attendant informed with a smile. "You're all set. Have a nice flight," she waved to Nate, who ignored her and buried his face in his father's jacket.

"That was awkward," Scott whispered to Jean after they had exited the line.

"But necessary," the telepath replied. "We better get used to it."

He nodded once. "You're right. Any news from the others?"

Jean stopped walking for a moment and pretended to adjust something inside Rachel's stroller. Instead, she concentrated. 'Guys, I'm telepathically connecting the five of us. You just have to think whatever you need to say.'

'What's your position, Beast and Iceman?' Cyclops asked through the link.

'Where about to check in,' Bobby responded. 'This mind-linking thing is so cool! It feels like Google meeting, but all the cameras and microphones are turned on inside of my head. Wait… Can you hear what I am thinking now?'

'Robert, the fine lady standing in the row behind us does not resemble Scrooge McDuck in skirts,' Beast replied, rolling his eyes.

"Sweet!" Bobby exclaimed, suddenly covering his mouth with his hand. 'Shit. I meant a telepathically 'sweet!'.'

'Watch it, Iceman. Now is not the time to joke around. We can't afford to have our covers blown,' Scott scolded him, and continued his checking. 'Angel, what's your position?'

'Can't talk,' Warren replied curtly.

Cyclops furrowed his brows. 'Angel, we need to know where you are. Are you in danger?'

'Out of my head, Summers!' The blonde responded gruffly.

Jean quickly intervened. 'We'll be waiting in the café just across immigration,' she let them know and shut down the telepathic connection.

Scott stared at her in confusion. "Why did you close the link? We need to know where Warren is. He might be in danger."

"He's not," she replied, heading for a table.

Cyclops followed her inside the shop. "Why isn't he responding, then? What's he doing that's so urgent?" He questioned.

"Believe me, you don't want to know," she declared as she slowly sat down. Her thigh hurt.

"Why?" Scott asked. He saw the smirk on Jean's face and suddenly blushed to an incredible tone of red. "Nooo. You gotta be kidding me," he said, brown eyes wide.

"I'm not," the woman replied. Noticing Cyclops' scandalized face, she burst into laughter.

"Jesus! Sex in the airport?" He whispered across the table. "That can't be comfortable, or hygienic."

The redhead kept laughing until her eyes met the man's stern glare. She coughed twice, trying to control her amusement. "C'mon, Scott… Don't be such a prude."

"I'm not! I just… I don't get how Warren can be thinking about it in our current situation."

"Why?" Jean asked, raising a brow. "Don't you?"

"No!" Scott hid his face behind the menu. "I-I mean, uh… It's not that I don't think about it… I obviously do. But not… not today. Not that today, especifically, is a problem, but today in the airport… I mean… Shit, that's not what I meant… I wouldn't be thinking of it now… I think. Am I making any sense?" He glanced back at the redhead, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"You are something, Mr. Summers," she declared amused. During the previous weeks, Jean had been finding the company of the man in front of her more and more delightful.

A sudden unpleasant scent hit her nose and she glanced at Rachel's red cheeks. "Someone's making a mess in her diapers," she said, picking her daughter up and reaching for the backpack. "Could you order an earl grey for me? I'll be right back," she told Cyclops.

Scott's cheeks gradually turned back to their natural color. He realized it was Nathan's dinner time and asked the waitress if she could heat his soup.

The toddler's food and Jean's tea arrived at the same time that Iceman and Beast entered the café.

"Hey, where's Warren?" Bobby asked.

Cyclops just looked down at the boy in his lap. "You don't wanna know," he repeated Jean's line. The two men shrugged and headed to the line to order their coffees.

Soon, the redhead returned with a crying Rachel in her arms. She sat back in her chair, and noticing Scott's concerned eyes, explained. "She's hungry." Then she took her jacket off and unbuttoned her shirt to feed her daughter. "It's a good thing that our children have dinner at the same time, right, Mr. Kirby?" Jean winked at him.

"You're damn right it is, Mrs. Kirby," Scott replied, giving Nate a spoon of soup and thanking God the woman had decided not to go back to their previous conversation.

xxxxx

After about forty minutes, Warren finally met his teammates in the café. His blonde locks had clearly seen neater days. "You're ready to go?"

"Yes," Jean replied, carefully standing up, and smirked at him. "Did you manage to give Candy a proper farewell?"

"Funny, sister," he gave back and narrowed his eyes. "If I recall, there was this one occasion when I had to wait you for more than one hour because you and Logan decided to-"

The woman quickly put her hand over his lips, making him shut up. Bobby and Hank exchanged puzzled looks while Scott pretended not to have listened to any of it.

"Where going to be late. Let's move," the team leader commanded.

They had planned to go through immigration together since Jean would have a special role to play in this part of the trip. Iceman and Angel were the first to go in, followed by Cyclops and Nathan. Jean and Rachel were next. As expected, Beast was impeded to continue - something in his hand luggage was off.

"Please come with me, sir," the border officer ordered. Scott took Rachel's stroller from Jean's hands so that the telepath could linger a few meters behind and focus exclusively on the task. "Mr. Byrne, would you mind explaining what this substance you're carrying is?" The officer asked, counting the number of antidote vessels.

"Certainly, officer. I'm a type 1 diabetic and the vials contain insulin. I need them to maintain my glucose levels at a lower rate and my body functioning properly," McCoy clarified.

"I know what insulin does," the man replied in annoyance, studying the flasks closely. Each one had a label describing the medicine's name and dose. He glanced up at Hank again - a man that size would probably need that much insulin during a long flight. And the vessels didn't look as funny as the x-ray had made them appear a few minutes ago. Yeah, nothing strange about the man and his luggage. "I'm sorry for your trouble, sir. You're good to go," the officer spoke, motioning Beast to pick up his hand bag.

"Thank you, sir. Have a lovely evening," Hank said, and added telepathically. 'Good job, Jean.'

The redhead nodded without turning her face to him. 'Thanks. The plane leaves in twenty minutes. We should hurry to the gate.'

xxxxx

Of course, Warren had bought himself a first class ticket - he claimed that a man with wings needed larger seats than the common folk. Thus, he was the first to step on board. Jean, Scott and the babies followed closely, occupying three bulkhead seats where there was enough room to hook a small bassinet for Rachel onto the front wall. The airline had also placed an infant's seat for Nate between Jean's and Scott's seats. To the man's right sat a nice old lady with yellow hair and thick lenses. Bobby and Hank sat side by side a few rows behind them.

The plane took off. After dinner had been served, the lady sitting beside Scott decided to make conversation.

"Aww, two babies! You and your wife are so blessed," she told him with a kind smile.

"Thanks, mam," Scott smiled.

"How old are these cuties?"

"Rachel turns two months old in two weeks, and Nathan's fourteen months old," he lied. Nate was a big toddler - he looked older than a ten-month-old child. For this reason, Scott and Jean had agreed to lie about his age to make their 'being a family' story more credible.

"Oh my, you youngsters were really brave to have two children with such a small age difference," the old woman commented.

"Rachel wasn't planned," Scott winked at the lady. "But they're usually calm, well-behaved babies… It makes the job easier."

Jean couldn't help but to eavesdrop at the conversation. 'You're right about that,' she sent into Cyclops' mind.

'About what? They being calm and well-behaved?'

'No. About Rachel not having been planned. The timing was awful, but I don't regret anything,' she told him, looking at her sleeping daughter lovingly.

'I know what you mean,' he turned his head to meet her eyes. 'I feel really blessed to have Nathan. I wouldn't change a thing either,' he stated. His son was wide awake, bouncing his legs up and down over the seat and chewing his plush bear's ear. Scott used a napkin to clean some drooling off the toddler's chin. "How's your leg?"

Jean considered lying as to not worry him but figured she might as well tell him the truth since they would be spending so much time together in the next days. "It hurts like hell. Having my thigh pressed against this awful seat isn't helping at all," she admitted quietly.

"You should've let me know about it earlier, Jean," Scott admonished her. "Do you have any painkillers with you?"

"No. I put them in the other bag - the one we dispatched. So stupid," she shook her head, red locks swinging sideways.

"Don't worry, I'll see if Hank's got some with him." Cyclops unbuckled his seatbelt and walked the narrow space between their seats and Rachel's bassinet.

"Ma-ma."

The redhead's heart skipped a beat as she looked to her right - Nate's eyes were staring back at her while his tiny hands were stretching forward towards the plush bear that had fallen to the floor and rolled under Scott's seat. She tried to reach it with her arms, but between Rachel's bassinet and her throbbing thigh, her movements were quite limited. Using telekinesis in a public space was out of question - Cyclops would kill her.

Jean heard the boy saying "ma" one more time and sighed. "I'm sorry, baby. Daddy will pick it up when he comes back," she told him. But Nate didn't seem satisfied with the answer. His cheeks became red and his eyes watered - in less than two seconds, he started crying.

Some passenger behind her muttered an obscene line about inconvenient parents traveling with babies. Jean cursed the man under her breath, but knew she had to do something before Nathan's cries would wake Rachel and, with her, the whole airplane. She glanced at her watch - it was almost ten p.m., way past Nate's breastfeeding time. She turned in her seat to unbuckle the sobbing boy and took him in her arms. "C'mon, sweetie," she unbuttoned her shirt and pushed her bra down, placing Nate's head near her right breast. At first, he pushed himself away from her chest, being more interested in throwing a tantrum for his lost toy. Oblivious to the annoyed glances coming her way, Jean patiently spoke soothing words in the boy's ear and positioned him once more against her chest. This time she was able to convince him to start sucking. Some remaining tears still fell from Nate's eyes, but at least the yelling and leg-kicking had stopped.

"You have a nice pair of… babies," a male voice said from above. Jean turned her head up and noticed a muscular man in his middle twenties looking back at her. He was standing in the toilet line, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and staring blatantly at her boobs. "Do you need any help with them?" He smirked.

The redhead rolled her eyes but felt uncomfortable under his gaze. "The toilet's vacant," she pointed with her left index finger to the green sigh above the door.

"Oh, I know… I'm just not in a hurry to go," he replied, giving her a lopsided grin and stepping closer. He bent towards her and whispered to Nathan. "You're one lucky fella, boy."

Jean's eyes narrowed and she contemplated using telepathy to force the guy away. Better yet, she should give the idiot a piece of her mind and embarrass him in front of the other passengers. But before she could open her mouth, someone tapped the man's back.

"Hey pal, are you lost or something? I'll gladly show you the way back to your seat."

The bulky man turned around just to bump into Cyclops' chest, who stood almost five inches taller and had a menacing look on his face. "Piss off, asshole, before I break your teeth," his jaw's muscles were tight as he threatened the stranger.

The man gulped. He quickly apologized and turned around, squeezing himself between Scott's body and the row of seats to get lost down the plane.

"Are you all right?" He asked the telepath after briefly checking on Nate and Rach. He stood tall beside her, and Jean noticed he was looking straight into her eyes, as he always did when she was breastfeeding.

"I'm fine," she said, but Scott saw the irritation on her features. "I'm used to dealing with jerks."

"You shouldn't be," Cyclops replied. He glanced over the seats, seeing that the guy had slouched down back into his own seat about twenty rows behind them. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. "I should let the crew know there's a harasser in the plane."

"Don't," Jean pleaded, adding telepathically. 'We don't need to attract any unwanted attention.'

Scott hesitated, torn between doing the right thing and maintaining their disguise. 'You're probably right,' he responded, but the look on his face told the woman he wasn't satisfied with the situation. "By the way, I got you some Tylenol," he handed her two pills.

"Thanks," she swallowed the pills and took the glass of water from his hand, 'for everything.'

He carefully walked the space between Jean's legs and Rachel's bassinet and sat back on his seat. 'Not every man's a jerk, you know?' Scott sent into her mind as he bent his upper body down to retrieve Nathan's plush bear.

'I know. Thank God the jerks are a tiny minority,' she gave him a small smile.

'I'm sorry you had to go through that,' he was patting the dust away from the toy's fur, a little too aggressively, as Jean realized.

"It's not your fault," she opted to use her voice instead of telepathy.

"I'm sorry it took me some time to return with the pills… Hank didn't have any and I had to ask the crew," he explained in a low tone, gripping the toy with both his hands. His knuckles were white.

"It's not your fault, Scott," the redhead repeated. 'Quit it, or you're going to rip the poor bear's head off,' she smirked.

His hands stopped. 'Sorry.'

'Stop saying 'sorry', for Christ's sake!' Jean laughed in his head, realizing her anger had gradually been substituted by a sense of gratitude and even… pleasure? She could have easily gotten rid of her harasser, but she was glad she didn't have to. She looked downwards at her lap, realizing Nate was done sucking and had finally fallen asleep. She carefully put him back into the infant's seat; Cyclops helped her buckle him up. In an impulse, Jean reached over the boy's seat with her right hand and held Scott's left one. He glanced up, locking eyes with her. "Thank you," she mouthed to him.

"You're welcome," he squeezed her hand.

"Oh, what an adorable young family," they heard the lady to Scott's right saying, and both smiled.

xxxxx

After nine long hours of flying, the seven fugitives finally landed on London Heathrow. McCoy was particularly cranky, since he was just too big to get comfortable enough to sleep in an economic flight. Scott didn't allow himself to get any shut-eye either and kept looking back over the seats to make sure that a certain man wouldn't dare to approach Jean again. The woman, for her turn, managed to doze off for a couple of hours between Rachel's feedings. The two babies had slept during most of the flight, but both started crying as soon as the plane began its descending. Bobby had watched Deadpool, earning some unpleasant stares from Hank for laughing out loud inside the plane - the cab driver was just too funny! After that, he napped for almost five hours in a row and was now feeling as energetic as ever.

As for Warren, the man looked like he had just come out of a beauty spa. His hair was perfectly combed and his face was shaved. He had enjoyed a good Italian meal and one or two glasses of a very decent Cabernet Sauvignon. He was the first to leave the aircraft, heading for the baggage claim feeling well-rested and relieved.

Once the group was reunited, they exited the airport and called two cabs. Iceman and Angel helped Jean and the babies into one of the cars while Cyclops and Beast finished putting the luggage in the trunks. When Scott turned around to grab the last bag, he noticed someone in his peripheral vision and told Hank he would be right back. He dashed towards the parking lot and turned left behind a small building, out of his friends' visual field. The place was almost desert. He searched around for surveillance cameras, unable to spot any.

"Hey asshole!" He shouted to the man carrying a roller bag a few meters ahead of him and stormed in his direction.

The man turned around in time to be punched in the face by Scott. He let out a loud yell and fell to the ground, letting go of his luggage to hold his bleeding nose. "Ouch! Dude, you broke my nose!"

"Good. This way you can remember what a worthless piece of shit you are every time you look at the mirror."

"I said I was sorry, man! The girl wasn't wearing a ring! How was I supposed to know she was taken?" He tried to reason.

That made Cyclops even madder. "She was feeding a baby, you animal," he hissed, lifting the man up by the collar and pressing his back against a grey Volkswagen, their faces only inches apart. The man became so scared he didn't even try to react as Scott grabbed the wallet from his front pocket and read his name. "Adrian P. Smithson," he stared back at his opposite's face and his eyes flashed red for a split second. "You're lucky she's not pressing charges against you, you mother fucker. I suggest that next time you see a woman, you look the other way."

He threw the man and the wallet to the ground and turned around, rapidly marching back to the awaiting cabs. Hank's clinical eyes didn't miss Cyclops' flushed face and swollen knuckles.

"Are you all right, my friend?"

"Never been better," Scott replied, entering the cab. "Let's get out of here."

Asteroid M, Somewhere in the Earth's Orbit.

Magneto's complex on Asteroid M was much bigger inside than it looked from the outside, as the X-Men learned over a whole day as guests. The main building was divided into a common area, where the mutants would gather for meals, schooling and training; and a dormitory area, where all the bedrooms were located. Nearly everything was made of metal and rocks, creating a huge grey artificial environment. As impressive as it was, Ororo thought the place lacked color and charm. She enjoyed living surrounded by Nature; thus, to her, it was as if the mutant haven lacked life itself.

Storm had just exited the main building to contemplate her home Earth when she detected a familiar sulfur odor.

"Guten morgen, fräulein," she heard Kurt's cheerful accent as he teleported beside her. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm better, my friend. After two nights, the pain has finally subdued," Ororo let him know. She was wearing a tight bandage over her broken ribs to prevent them from hurting at every breath she took. "What news do you bring me?"

"Not much. Zhe professor's asking to see Magneto but was informed zhat he hasn't left his chambers since we arrived," Kurt told her. "Xavier's trusting Lehnsherr will be able to provide us with resources to find our friends."

"So, no news about Jean and the others so far," the woman's eyes teared up. "I keep thinking about Rachel and Nathan… They're so young," she sighed. "I-I'm starting to lose hope, Kurt."

"You must keep zhe faith, Ororo," the devil-like mutant counseled, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "All zhe X-Men are powerful and very resourceful. I'm sure our friends have found a way to escape."

Storm's shoulders raised up and fell down. "I hope you're right, my friend."

Nightcrawler hated to see his teammate so depressed, and decided he was going to cheer her up.

"Come with me, fräulein," he grabbed her hand in his and beckoned her to follow him. They walked a few hundred meters and stopped to appreciate the view. Both their mouths fell agape. "How can you say you have lost hope when God has given us zhe miracle of dawn and life?" Kurt questioned her.

"Oh…" Ororo was at loss of words. She'd never see anything as breathtaking as the sun reflecting on the Earth's surface.

As he glanced to his left, Nightcrawler noticed they weren't alone. There was a big young man sitting on a small iron bench a few meters away. He had a paint brush in his right hand and an empty canvas in front of him.

"Excuse me," the German mutant approached him and asked. "Is zhe beginning of zhe day always so beautiful in zhis side of zhe asteroid?"

"It is," the man replied with a kind smile. He stood up to greet the new arrivals. "I'm Piotr Rasputin," he offered his hand to Kurt, "but around here I'm called Colossus."

"I guess we don't need to ask zhe reason for your codename," the blue devil joked, impressed by the man's size. "I'm Kurt Wagner, or Nightcrawler, and zhis is my good friend Storm."

"Ororo Munroe," the woman extended her hand to Piotr. "We're X-Men."

"I know who you are, lady," Colossus replied politely. "A lot is said about your group inside these walls."

"I suppose we don't receive many compliments," Storm said in a wry tone.

"I try not to let the impression of others cloud my judgement," Piotr explained with a smile. "Please, feel free to join me for the sunrise."

Colossus returned to his bench and started painting the canvas. Yellow, orange, blue… a little dark green here and there. Kurt and Ororo sat on the ground a few meters behind him, their eyes switching between the horizon and the big guy's work. No one uttered a single word for the better part of an hour. Finally, Ororo questioned the painter.

"How does your country treat mutants, Colossus?"

"Worse than animals, I'm afraid. I wouldn't be here otherwise," he answered calmly.

"I guess America and Russia have more in common than one would've guessed," Storm replied cynically.

"Germany is no better," Nightcrawler added.

"I've heard that in Australia and Brazil they don't care if you're a mutant," Piotr said as he gave the canvas one last brush.

"I wonder if it has something to do with zhe sunny weather," Kurt proposed.

Storm shook her head. "I don't believe it. Even if those countries don't hate us yet, it's a matter of time before they start passing laws to persecute their mutant population as well," she sighed in defeat. "Our kind is doomed."

The Asteroid M was now fully lightened by sunshine. Rasputin carefully picked his painting and gave it to Ororo.

"W-What is this?" She asked him with mild suspicion.

"It's a humble gift… for you," he responded, almost shyly. "To remind you of why we're here."

"Oh. Oh. It's… it's beautiful!" Storm said, visibly touched by the Russian's gesture. "Thank you, Piotr. How is it called?"

"The dawn of hope."