Hi all, this story contains spoilers for Avengers movies as well as characters from the X-Men universe. If you are caught up with all Avengers-based Marvel movies, read on! Additionally, minimal X-Men knowledge is needed as this story mainly follows the Avengers.
Happy Reading!
- H.
Eve's POV
As I sat in the back of the car, listening to Charles and Hank as they spoke about the day's events, I couldn't help but look out the window at the dull, New York City traffic.
Charles liked to pick me up from school rather than let me take the bus home because of my mutation. But as Charles use a wheelchair, Hank had to drive.
I didn't mind not having to take the school bus. It would have been much too crowded in a seat with my wings. They're a dark brown color, and so large that they allow me to fly. But the wings are my mutation; a gift, Charles calls them. Damn him for being so—
A car honked as the light had barely turned green.
I wished I could just fly myself home and avoid all this traffic.
We had reached the heart of New York City, approaching Times Square.
"How was school today, Evelyn?" Charles asked from the passenger seat.
Charles was the only person I allowed to call me Evelyn. He has always been like a brother or father to me. Charles is my legal guardian after all. Though we are not blood-related, I had taken the Xavier last name.
"Fine, I suppose," I answered, leaning my head on the window ledge.
"And that math test you had been worried about?" Charles began.
"Not sure," I mumbled. "It hasn't been graded yet."
"Well, you're always welcome to transfer to my scho—"
"I know, Charles," I cut him off. "I'm not being bullied. I'm fine attending with all the regulars."
"Good," Charles forced himself to say. "Good, I'm glad you're fitting in."
The car fell silent. It seemed like we'd stuck in traffic for awhile so Hank turned in the radio.
I had decided to move to a public school for my Sophomore year when my freshman year at Charles' School for Gifted Youngsters just wasn't challenging enough for me. Sure, I never had to worry about being bullied for my wings because the whole student-body and faculty were mutants, but the work seemed almost too easy. Maybe teachers there just took it easy on us because a lot of the kids had a rough life prior to attending the Xavier school.
"Reports coming from the Stark Tower for citizens to evacuate New York—" the car radio blurbed.
"What?" Hank asked the radio in disbelief.
Charles grabbed the dial, turning the volume up.
"New York, like New York city? Charles, what is this?" I asked, anxiously gripping my seat belt.
I looked up out the window to see Stark Tower standing tall over us.
"Charles, is there anyway you could you look into Stark Tower?" I asked.
"I don't know, but I'll try," Charles answered. He began concentrating. Charles closed his eyes and put two fingers to his temple.
I had rarely seen Charles use his mutation, but I was more focused on the radio report that had grown silent with fragments of static popping through.
"Hank," I started. He shushed me, concentrated on Charles.
"Hank," I started once more. "Why's the radio gone silent?"
Charles came out of his trance and shrugged with no new information.
Hank started at him, then me. "I don't know . . ." Hank began, fumbling with the knobs on the radio. "And I don't like not knowing."