{Author's Note: This chapter is not Scott-friendly.}

Peter was avoiding his father. And Raven. But mostly just his father because if Peter wanted to remain at the school, then he probably had to follow through with his one obligation, which was showing up for X-Men training, and if he went to X-Men training then he'd inevitably see Raven. But Peter was pretty sure that embarrassment was one of the emotions Raven had somehow banished from her body via the same sorcery that made her scary as hell, so seeing her after walking in on her and his dad doing . . . whatever two people do in a closet together . . . hadn't been so bad. It hadn't been great. But it wasn't the most awkward moment of his life. It didn't end with any tears, broken bones, or mean-spirited laughter, so that was a plus. Mostly, Raven just went on with training as normal, like Peter hadn't interrupted her and Erik purpling.

But it wasn't as easy with Erik, maybe because, unlike Raven, Erik would probably find it necessary to say something about the encounter. And no thank you to that. The facts of life talk was awkward enough the first time around with his mom, and all she had done was hand him a book about his changing body—mutant part not included—and let school health class take care of the rest.

So yea, he needed to put a couple of days between himself and that discovery before he could make eye contact with Erik again. It'd be nice if he could also put a few nights' rest between him and the event too, but that wasn't an option for obvious reasons—or one obvious reason.

Sure, he was aware that his dad wasn't exactly celibate, given that, well, Peter existed for one, and he also had three siblings that shared DNA with Erik (even if Peter was the last one of them standing). Bottom line—it was obvious his dad got around, but just because Peter knew that to be true, didn't mean he wanted it thrown in his face. There was some things you just didn't need to know about your parents.

But that's what he got for trying to do something as boring as vacuuming. Seriously, vacuuming is fucking awful. Tell him to dust or mop the floor, hell, he'd even clean the bathrooms, and he'd do it. And, most importantly, he could do those tasks quickly. But oh no, not vacuuming because in order for it to be effective, vacuuming required him to work at pace that allowed the vacuum to actually function. For some inexplicable reason, he couldn't manipulate its speed like he could with his Walkman, or at least not to the same extent.

God, the whole task was soul crushing every time it was forced upon him, but Ethan had been nervous about an exam and accidentally turned his textbook to glass, preceded to drop that piece of glass, which of course shattered into a million tiny little pieces, leaving Peter scrambling to divert a bunch of mini mutants from the zone of impact, calming down the matter manipulator who was now panicking about his test and his powers, and promising to clean up said mess because he knew what it was like to feel out of control with the world falling apart around you and because of you.

But as mind-numbing as vacuuming was, he had handled. His Walkman helped speed—unfortunately not literally—the task along, and by the time he'd finished, he had been daydreaming of running into town and stuffing himself with a boatload of pizza as a treat for a job well done, even if Hank would chastise him for it later—the running part, not the eating.

But then he had to go and continue his responsible adult streak and return the vacuum he'd borrowed to its rightful home. And that's when he'd stumbled upon his dad this close to sucking face with Raven.

And now the image was burned into his mind without his consent, which he one-hundred percent could've done without.

Weren't parents supposed to be the ones to awkwardly discover their kids in compromising positions, not the other way around? Not that Peter wanted that to happen either, though it also was not likely to. Believe it or not, living in your mom's basement after a certain age didn't exactly earn you potential boyfriend points, and—not that he'd attempted to test the theory yet—but he was pretty sure that living at a boarding school wasn't much more appealing.

Unlike Peter, however, apparently his dad had game. Hell, he'd thought Raven merely tolerated his father, but nope. Evidently, Peter was just as bad at reading people as he was at being a mature adult.

Shit, what if Raven and Erik became like a legit Thing? What if Raven became his step-mom? Peter didn't think he could handle that. Two terrifying parents was enough—yea he was including his mom in that description because she could be downright scary when she was angry, though luckily any of her real anger had always been on his behalf rather than directed at him.

But the real clencher was that if Raven became Peter's step-mom then wouldn't that make Charles his uncle? Because, if so, Peter really didn't think he could deal with that. He didn't need Chuck to have another reason to think he could meddle in Peter's life.

And what if Erik and Raven decided to have a kid? Peter loved his sisters he had the chance to know, but at this point, if his dad decided to have another kid, not that it was always something that was decided—Peter was well aware that he and Wanda hadn't been planned—it kind of seemed like he was tempting fate. Like, clearly, Erik's kids did not have a track record of reaching adulthood—himself being the exception (for now)—so maybe it was safer not to play the odds?

But Erik probably didn't want any more children anyway, right? He still wasn't entirely convinced Erik wanted Peter as his kid. It wasn't that he would be jealous if Erik suddenly had another kid—there was probably a fifty-fifty chance that Erik did have other kids out there besides Peter, if the closet incident was a regular occurrence—it was just . . . Peter wasn't sure he could love another sibling and have to let them go.

He'd been there, done that, and he would never be ready to do it again.

But he was letting his mind run—pun intended—away from him. Erik wasn't exactly young anymore. He was getting up there. Right? Probably? Peter mused as he realized that he didn't really have any idea how old his father was. He could make a pretty good guess based on his own age and his mom's and the fact that Erik lived through WWII, but it was a little depressing that he couldn't say for sure, but every time he'd nearly gotten the courage to ask his birthday, so, you know, he could get him a card or maybe a hat—he seemed to have a thing for headwear—or something to acknowledge the passing of another year around the sun, Erik had turned the conversation back on Peter.

But on the other hand, it wasn't like his dad was ancient because he definitely didn't look that old, which Peter was pretty sure was a mutant thing and not just a Lehnsherr-gene thing because Raven, and even Hank and Charles, didn't look as old as . . . well however old they were, even if the latter two acted like they should be in a retirement home sometimes. And it wasn't like Peter exactly looked like he was pushing thirty either. Peter's embarrassing lack of facial hair was a daily reminder of that fact.

Jesus, Peter really needed to quit spiraling down this black hole of what ifs before he found himself in another dimension.

Thankfully, he'd never had this sort of crises with his mom's dating life, since it—like his—was virtually nonexistent, though Peter was pretty sure his mom's lack of relationships was much more of a choice than his own. He knew his mom had dated after Peter's step-dad's death, but not much, and even when she had, she had never gotten to the point where she was ready to bring them home to meet her kids, so fortunately for Peter, walking in on one of his parents getting hot and heavy was a new—and hopefully a one time—experience.

Not that he didn't want Erik to be happy, especially after he'd lost his wife and daughter, but being privy to his father's romantic conquests was definitely not something he had anticipated when he'd realized that his dad was sticking around for a while.

Peter took a deep breath and let it out. Sometimes he scared himself with just how messed up his brain was in its ability to fixate on things that he really had no reason to be anxious about.

Like, should he really be stressing about this? A psychotic old as shit mutant had just tried to take over the world and like probably killed thousands or millions of people in the process, and his dad had been a part of that for a good chunk of time, and yet, here Peter was giving himself a migraine about the fact that he might have an awkward conversation with his father, rather than the fact that his dad had killed people—lots of people.

Sure, he had freaked out about that fact too, but he wasn't currently.

Yep. His brain was a mess. It should probably have police tape around it, it was such a hazard.

Peter took a deep breath, twisting a chunk of hair around his finger the way he always did when he was trying to calm himself from a manic state. It was really getting too long. He should probably cut it, but haircuts were just another source of anxiety for Peter, so he tried to avoid them for as long as possible. He'd get it done eventually, hopefully before he attempted to cut it himself and ended up looking like someone had attacked him with a chainsaw like he had Sophomore year.

But that wasn't going to happen again. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine.

But even if it wasn't, even if he wasn't, it's not like that was anything new.

"So Peter . . . ?" Said Scott, saving Peter—or so he thought—from the chaos of his own mind. He should have known based on Scott's feigned casualness that he was about to dig into a topic Peter would rather not discuss.

"What?" Asked Peter, not looking away from his current task, laying on his back and tossing grass up into air above him just to watch each blade cut through the air, each piece taking a path uniquely its own. One would think it would be boring—like vacuuming—but it was kind of calming.

"What's up with you and Magneto?" Scott asked bluntly, and at the question, Peter sat straight up in alarm, too quickly to appear normal.

"What about me and Magneto?" asked Peter, turning to Scott. Did he know? Did they all know? Peter wondered looking to Jean and Kurt. Presumably Jean knew because his and Raven's minds might be an impenetrable vault to Chuck—and he was too morally superior to read Erik's mind—but to Jean, their heads were probably no more secure than a piggy bank. But if she did know, from what he'd come to learn of her, Peter didn't think Jean was the type of person to share the secrets of others, and given her abilities, she likely knew quite a few secrets.

But Peter had been wrong about people before.

Ororo and Jubilee had taken off earlier, saying something about grabbing a snack, which normally Peter would be all for, but shockingly, after he had laid down, he hadn't really felt like moving, so he couldn't gauge their reactions. But so far they hadn't done anything to make Peter suspect that they knew either.

"So what's your deal with him? You're like best buddies now." Scott pressed. "Are you thinking about a career change? I guess assistant to a terrorist might be one of the few job prospects a high school dropout is qualified for huh?"

Peter felt himself scowling, and did his best to school his features. He'd been called much worse things than a drop out before and he suspected Erik had been called worst things than a terrorist too, but still, he didn't like people making assumptions about him.

"Scott." Said Jean warningly. "Don't."

"It's fine Jean bean. But, first of all, I graduated high school, so get your facts straight. Second, we're not best buddies, and he's not—he doesn't terrorize people . . . anymore." Said Peter, hating how defensive he was in his response, even as the words left his mouth. He liked hanging out with Erik—his dad—he shouldn't have to feel weird about it or be ashamed of that fact, even if said father had done questionable things in the past, right?

"Uh, yea you are. You hang out with him all the time, and that's saying something because Magneto doesn't spend time with anyone. I barely even see him with the Professor." Scott replied, his face was accusing, even if his eyes were hidden behind his red-tinted sunglasses.

"I don't hang out with him all the time. And his name is Erik." Said Peter pathetically.

"Maybe not, but you spend enough time with Erik that he's given you gifts. He gave you that bracelet, didn't he? Or is it a watch?" asked Scott, nodding his hand at Peter's wrist, and Peter had to resist the urge to hide his hand behind his back. "Whatever it is, it seems personal."

How did Scott know that Erik had given him the refurbished locket? Peter wondered, panicking. Surely, Scott wasn't that observant. Peter looked to Jean, sitting beside Scott. She paled as Peter's eyes met hers and then looked away, perhaps a little ashamed.

Oh. So that's how Scott knew, and as that thought clicked in Peter's mind, another rush of anger flashed through him. He tried to dispel it, straining to remember that he didn't always have as much control over his powers as he did now. There was a time when he'd go to cross the room and end up nearly running through the wall, and Wanda had it worse than him. If she didn't, she'd probably still be here because he sure as hell wasn't stronger than her. So if Jean had picked up the truth of the locket from his mind or Erik's that was fine. She probably just let it slip to Scott accidentally. She and Scott spent enough time together for that to be possible because Jean liked Scott for some baffling reason.

He wouldn't blame her. How was he supposed to keep friends if he pushed them away for every little mistake?

Still, that didn't mean he was happy about Scott knowing what went on between him and his father.

"It's none of your business is what it is. So what if he did?" Said Peter, getting to his feet.

"Jeez I was just asking." Said Scott, throwing his hands up in mock defeat as he too rose to his feet. "But I'm just saying, it's kind of creepy how much time you spend with him, don't you think? And you're awfully defensive about it for it apparently not being a big deal."

Peter felt his face heat up, and he knew without looking in the mirror that it had to be flaming red. Well, maybe not that red because there was nothing in the world that could bring enough color to Peter's face to make him look like anything other than a ghost. "Yea, well I've been wondering why Jean agreed to go out with you, but I've kept that question to myself. I haven't asked you that. We don't have to share everything with each other. Sorry you didn't realize it, but you and I actually aren't that close."

"At least I have a girlfr—"

"Please don't fight." Said Kurt, suddenly popping up between them from where he had been sitting next to Peter on the ground and cutting Scott off. He looked anxiously between the two older boys.

"I'm not fighting." Said Scott rather smugly and unconvincingly. "We're just having a conversation."

"More like an interrogation." Peter shot back at the brunette.

"So?! Mystique made me leader of the X-Men, so it's my job to know who the members of my team spend their time with, especially when they're a known terrorist." Said Scott without missing a beat.

"You're not the leader of the X-Men!" said Peter with a laugh of disbelief as he threw his hands up in exasperation. "She put you in charge one time! And Erik—he's not—I told you, he doesn't do that stuff anymore!"

"She's training me for the position and you know it!" said Scott, taking a step closer to the speedster. "Just because you're older than us, doesn't mean you have leadership potential. And Cairo wasn't that long ago! The world is probably going to be recovering from the damage Magneto caused for years!"

"Just let it go Scott. Please." Said Jean putting a hand on his arm, trying to deescalate the situation. "You don't need to argue about—"

"He was upset, and the Apocalypse dude manipulated him! He had just lost his family!" Peter yelled, cutting off Jean, no longer able to keep his anger in check, and stepping forward past a distressed Kurt so that he was right in front of Scott. Scott might be more muscular than him, but at least Peter had a good few inches on him, so the gesture wasn't a complete waste in Peter's book.

"So had I!" Scott shouted back, right in front of Peter's face now. "Thanks to you!"

There was a collective intake of breath from Kurt and Jean at Scott's accusation, and Jean, appalled, yelled 'Scott!'

Peter blanched, breathing heavily, and he felt an all too familiar tightening in his throat, but he wouldn't cry, not in front of Scott. Alex's death wasn't Peter's fault. Logically, he knew that, but that didn't mean he hadn't spent the weeks since the mansion exploded beating himself up over it, wondering if he could have been faster. And to have that voiced, hurt, more than he wanted anyone else, least of all Scott, to know.

"Is there a problem here?" A deep voice asked suddenly from behind the young mutants before anyone could respond to Scott's outburst.

The group turned almost simultaneously to see that Erik had come up from behind them and now stood surveying the group with a cool, calculating gaze.

"No. And if there was, I would be handling it, so you can go do whatever it is you do all day, Magneto." Said Scott, rather boldly, or maybe he was just clever enough to know that Erik wasn't going to hurt another mutant, especially under Charles' watch, no matter how much he disrespected the man.

Erik didn't react to Scott's reply. Instead, he just looked him up and down, as though studying a particularly unpalatable piece of art; then, he merely turned to his son, questioning. "Peter? Is that true?"

Peter clenched his fists at his side, trying to prepare himself to speak. "Yea, everything's fine, Erik." Said Peter bluntly a moment later. He knew his voice sounded not quite right, but he couldn't help that. "I just can't stay at everyone else's pace for one more second, or I might lose my fucking mind."

Then, without further ado, Peter took off running.

He only stopped when he could no longer see through his tears.

{Author's Note: You made Peter cry, Scott. Are you happy now?}