X-Men-First Class: Rise or Fall
Chapter Thirty Seven
Icon Guide: All right, so this story will have flashbacks scattered about here and there. To indicate we're entering a flashback will be "XXXXX" and to indicate a time or scene shift will be a single "X". When you see "XXXXX" again that means we have returned to present events.
Author's Word: Hi, everybody. I am so sorry I have not posted in a while. Yes, I've been having yet another one of those weeks. A couple of them actually. I hope you all enjoy this and I will try to have the next one out as quick as possible. Please review and have a good start to the week!
When the mutant army of nine at last returned to New York State, they discovered a blizzard across Westchester. The snow accumulation had developed into nearly three feet already. After securing everyone inside, Charles and Hank performed sweeps to make sure the electrical and heating worked. Fortunately, they found everything still functional.
"Can we go play in it?" Frank asked excitedly.
Charles said, "I think it'd be best to unpack and settle in a bit first."
"Besides," Raven added, peeking out a window in the living room, "it's still raging out there. You'd never be able to see what you were doing."
"Can I call Maya right quick, Charles?" Sean requested agonizingly. "Please, please?"
"Go on," Charles allowed. "Let her know we arrived back safely."
"Thank you," the redhead grinned then went in search of a private line.
As the rest of the house filed out towards the stairs, Charles slipped an arm around Raven's shoulders. "Love, I fear you may be coming down with something. You've been awfully blue since we got home." A smirk toyed on his lips.
"Shut up," Raven laughed, bumping him with her elbow lightly. "I look so regular when I'm in public, anyway. Hank likes me this way."
"That's nice to hear, but what about you?" Charles hugged her close to his side. "Are you comfortable natural?"
Raven considered it. "It's growing on me."
XXXXX
Completely exasperated, Charles put forth, "You're being ridiculous." He stopped walking to face her. "Look, I don't mean to sound like an old fart—"
"Which you are," Raven interjected.
"Sometimes," Charles admitted. "But we've talked about this, Raven. A small slipup is one thing; a big one does not bear thinking about."
The shape-shifter's eyes dimmed significantly and she silenced for several seconds. "I'm sorry, Charles."
He shook his head grimly. "I'm afraid sorry won't suffice this time. You're getting a spanking when we get home."
"What?" Her lips quivered pleadingly. "No, Charles! I didn't mean anything. I was only kidding around."
Charles took her hand as he began to move again. "There's a time and a place for everything. This was neither the time nor the place for childish antics."
Raven went quiet again as she followed behind him at a somewhat equally rapid pace. She used the noiseless atmosphere between them to think of something, anything, to get out of this. Her brother had not given her a spanking in a while so she knew she had pushed him. As they came upon their apartment flat, she got that green mile feeling and wanted to break away to run. However, such a choice would result in Charles' freezing her body and forcefully carrying her inside. She had learned that the hard way during childhood…
"Charles, please," she tried as they entered their sitting room— which would be a standing painfully room for Raven in a moment. "Please don't be mad. I'm really sorry. That girl was in a bar. Who's going to believe her?"
Charles veered around on her with a fearsome glare. "That is not the point, young lady. You cannot intentionally misuse your powers for such trickery. If you ever were to really slip and reveal your true self you could be viciously attacked or worse. I cannot be with you every moment, Raven, and I won't let the one time I look away be the day I lose you."
The girl felt her eyes gloss at hearing Charles' pained tone. "I'm sorry…"
His own eyes laced with both disappoint and sadness, the young telepath instructed, "Bring me your hairbrush, please."
Raven nodded silently. Taking off her leather coat to follow the directions given, she moved robotically towards the bathroom. She gripped her thick wooden brush in her hand for nearly a minute before bringing it back out. Charles sat on the couch. He appeared pensive but not at all bothered by the time she had taken.
Coming over, Raven held out the requested implement. "… Here."
"Thank you." Charles extended a kind hand to her. "I don't like this anymore than you do, love."
The currently blonde shape-shifter took it. After a gentle squeeze from her brother, she sucked in a breath as he pulled her down to drape across his lap. Raven gripped Charles ankle in one hand and rested the other on the couch as she braced herself. She sucked in a sharp breath as the whacks from the brush began to rain down.
Before she knew it, she felt moisture buildup in her eyes before the tears ran down her cheeks altogether. She hated this; hated that she had made Charles so angry and disappointed. Why could she never think ahead before doing these things?
Raven's tears slowed down when she felt the brush replaced by Charles' hand. While still painful, it had more of a comfort to it than her hairbrush. After five final smacks, she felt herself get picked up. She completely buried her face in the chest of Charles' shirt, as if trying to hide. Yes, that's what she wanted. She wanted to hide. Just as she wanted no one to look upon her true face, she did not want Charles to see her at all right now.
Charles gave her the strongest squeeze his arms could deliver. "Shhhh, my dear, dear girl. It's alright now. I'm all done." He kissed her hair. "No more tears, love."
Sniffling now, Raven rested her cheek against his. "I'm sorry, Charles."
"I know that, sweetheart," he smiled. "So there's no need for you to repeat it again. Just remember this lesson for next time we venture out, yes?"
She nodded, "I will," then relaxed against him, melting into her natural blue and redheaded form.
Charles kissed her temple. "My pretty Raven. What would I do without you?"
"Date whoever you want, go wherever you want," she counted off tiredly, "do whatever you want."
"Die lonely and miserable," he tacked on. "Without the greatest person to ever walk into my life." She gave him a wide smile. "Now, why don't you get ready for bed? I have to hit the books."
"Alright." She stood, took her brush back, and went into the bathroom.
As she undressed, Raven took a moment to study her blue features in the mirror. Even though things were right with Charles again, she still could not get over how enticed her brother had been over that Amy girl. Would a guy, anywhere in the world, ever look at her and see someone beautiful? If only…
XXXXX
With the plate of freshly baked cookies loaded on, Raven lifted up the silver tray and carried it upstairs. She stepped inside the open master suite, seeing Charles neatly unloading things from one of his suitcases.
She watched him for a few more moments before she made her presence known. "Hey, break time."
Charles smiled as she placed the cookies and teapot on his desk. "What's all this?" He walked over and picked up a chocolate chip cookie, feeling the warmth coming off it. "Did you bake these?"
"Sure did." She started pouring tea into the small porcelain cups.
"I appreciate the thought but we've only just returned," Charles said. "We should be unpacking."
"We can do what we want." Raven smiled at him mischievously. "It's our house. Besides," she started adding the proper amount of cream and sugar the way Charles liked it, "I wanted to spend some time with the greatest person to walk into my life."
He took a bite out of his cookie. "I'm afraid you took a wrong turn, madam. Hank lives down the hall."
"Oh, shut up." She smacked his arm good-naturedly. "You know I mean you, dork. You were the first guy in my life."
Charles appeared touch and held up his half-eaten cookie. "Thank you for this." He picked up his tea cup."
"Thank you for everything," Raven turned. She lifted her own cup, clinking it together with her brother's.
IIIIIII
On route to his bedroom, Alex stopped short in the hall at the sight of Frank and Joey bouncing a small ball back and forth between them from two paper cups. "Knock it off you guys." Alex walked over and took possession of the ball in midair. "You know you're not supposed to be tossing balls around inside."
"That's only with ours hands." Frank held up his cup for emphasis.
Alex gave him an unimpressed look. "Know what I can do with my hands? Turn 'em into fists."
Frank's countenance drooped. "Forget you, Havok." He turned and went into his room.
Shaking his head, Alex looked to Joey. "I thought you were unpacking."
"It got boring," the small boy said, tracing the rim of his cup.
Alex knelt to him, gently prying the cup out of his little hand. "No more goofing off inside, okay?" Joey nodded. "That's my guy. Go finish putting your clothes away and I'll come play with you."
Joey grinned and dashed off to comply.
"And how is my young instructor-to-be?"
Alex stood up quickly. "Fine, except he'll never get used to that. Do you fly or something?"
"No," Erik answered, a brief impish gaze crossing his features, "but just think of the possibilities."
"Trust me," Alex assured. "You don't need anymore cool, Erik." He pounded on the older man's chest lightly. "You feel like sparring?"
Erik quickly got into it, exchanging playful blows with his teenage charge.
XXXXX
The grand sized house fell completely silent before one AM. By three, Alex still remained gazing up at the ceiling as if he could actually make out something in the dim lighting the windows offered. He had been an 'official' resident for a full three days. Considering his previous track with foster homes, this one came close to breaking a record for him. Of course, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that the man who owned the mansion was an extremely weird and oddly happy-go-lucky professor who happened to have a freak gene in common with Alex.
Regardless, he knew it would not be long before the tides turned. They now knew what he was capable of; how far his powers extended and the damage caused. It did not matter how many kids walked around with sonic screams or absurdly large feet, they posed no harm. Not like him. He was harm wrapped up, signed, sealed and explosive upon opening.
Detaching himself from the mass of blankets that felt too comfortable to be real, Alex got out of his sleep pants and threw on a t-shirt and jeans. He donned his black leather jacket and a pair of shoes before taking leave from both his room as well as the entire house.
After a lengthy power walk, he found himself in the middle of the woods that surrounded the unique property. His eyes fell on a tree that seemed to stand apart from the others, entirely uninvolved. The tall piece of wood reminded Alex very much of himself. He felt his breathing go heavier as he became angry. Swaying his body slightly, the young mutant released a crimson blast that sliced the tree practically at the root, making it fall with an intense thud.
"If a tree falls in the woods," Alex practically jumped three feet as he veered around in an opposing stance, "and you're around to hear it, does the sound mean anything?"
The teenager dropped his fists but kept a glare on his face. "Are you crazy, sneaking up on me like that? Do you know what I can do to you?"
Erik's eyes darted a bit as he slipped into concentration. Alex glanced down to see his jacket zipping itself up and he had to arch his head back before his chin got snagged. He stared at the adult questioningly.
"Do you know what I can do to you?" the man countered evenly.
Alex unzipped himself. "I'll trade you."
Erik shook his head. "You children and this self-blame." He stepped upon him a little. "Darwin was not your fault, Alex."
"How the hell can you say that? He killed him with my powers, Erik."
"Did you miss the first part of that sentence entirely?" Erik pointed out. "'He' killed him. The bastard did. Not you." He placed both hands on either side of Alex's face to force him to maintain eye contact. "Shaw found a weakness in Darwin and exploited it. He cared nothing about either of you. Angel is going to learn that soon enough. He has a twisted agenda and he'll commit any depraved act to see it through. The loss of one young man makes no difference in his eyes."
Alex felt himself involuntarily relax into the somehow comforting touch but shook it off. "If he could suck up my power once, he can do it again. I'm dangerous. That's why I was locked up to begin with. I shouldn't even be here."
"So what then, hm?" Erik dropped his hands. "You're to spend the rest of your existence rotting in a cell? Plan to hang yourself while you're there?"
The boy shrugged. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea."
When Erik suddenly grabbed his arm and swung his hand out, Alex expected a punch but the hard impact came from a more southern region. He grunted as Erik applied another one to the seat of his jeans.
"Don't. Ever. Talk. Like. That." Erik swatted him for every word then instead of releasing him he made his grip tighter, narrowing his eyes at the wayward young man. "We all have to face a harsh world someday. The extermination will not begin from within. We are a unique breed, a different breed. I refuse to see one of our young ones go wasted again."
"I'm not yours," was all Alex could get out, not wanting to say much else while his behind stayed in smacking range.
"Keep telling yourself that." Erik dropped his hold on him. "It's late. Get back inside." He noticed Alex's hesitation and stood to his full height. "Get back inside the house. Now."
Not sure what compelled him in that moment, Alex made tracks back towards the mansion. As if robotically programmed, he did not stop moving until he made it back to his room. He shut the door then rubbed his behind vigorously. Okay, so clearly Erik had abilities beyond finding loose change.
XXXXX
Sending out another half-hearted jab, Alex ducked before Erik could make contact with him. Instead the metal wielder's fist connected with the floor vase, causing it to tilt right over. He then had to perform a somersault to catch it before it hit the floor altogether.
Frank stepped out of his bedroom to catch part of Erik's mini circus show along with Alex's relieved breath. "You know you're not supposed to do stuff like that inside," the twelve-year-old smirked.
Erik propped the vase back up into a secure position then seized hold of the cheeky New York City native and pulled him down to tickle. As the younger boy laughed, Alex got down to poke at his presently bare feet.
IIIIIII
Putting the last of her summer dresses away in the far back of her closet, Becky walked over to her middle window and gazed out. It had finally stopped snowing but the accumulation had left behind a world of white. Normally, Becky loved snow but would gladly trade it in for more nice warm sand and gentle ocean breezes.
Leaving her room, she rounded the corridor until she made it to the lab. Hank moved around vigorously back and forth, carrying beakers and cleaning objects that had developed dust over the weeks.
"Becca," he acknowledged, coming to an abrupt stop. He rested his armload on a nearby table. "How's your room?"
"It's okay," she shrugged lightly, approaching him. "I wanted to make sure you were happy."
Hank lifted her up. "Absolutely miserable." He pecked her forehead. "I'm happy so long as you're alright." He stroked fingers through her head of curls. "There won't be any red monsters in your room again. Trust me." Hank chose not to disclose the full details of what he had done to Azazel, but by the reassured look on the little girl's face, he did not need to. He started to walk with her towards his desk. "We have so many fun things coming up next week in science." He sat with the little mutant in his lap. "Are you excited?"
"Yeah!" She gave him a tight smile.
"Are you fibbing to make me feel good?" he asked knowingly.
"Yes, I am," Becky replied honestly.
"That's my girl." Hank reclined comfortably in his chair while Becky in turn decided to use him for a pillow.
XXXXX
As the Douglas pair arrived in the facility's laboratory, Hank's attention immediately went to the smallest one.
"Hi, Becca Bear," he greeted warmly.
He could barely hear her solemn return of, "Hi, Big Bear."
Hank frowned as she walked away a bit. He stood and looked to the child's father. "What's the matter with Becca?"
Agent Douglas shrugged, flipping through a file. "Hey, she talks to you more than she does me. I don't have time to worry about anything right now. My nanny had to leave to attend a funeral and God forbid I find someone before I have to leave in the morning for this weekend job."
Hank gazed over at Becky before facing the man again. "Tomorrow's Friday so I have a short day. If you want, I can pick Becca up after school and stay the weekend with her. Completely free of charge."
Overhearing them, Becky lost her dark expression and her face brightened immensely.
"Well, Hank, I appreciate the offer but we couldn't possibly inconvenience—" Becky sent a glare her father's way and focused on him for a moment. He put on a sudden smile. "Keep an eye on her for a minute while I go have you a set of keys made." The agent turned and walked out.
Hank watched him go with a slightly confused raised eyebrow before going over to Becky with a wide smile. "Now that that's taken care of, want to tell me what's wrong?"
Becky rolled her eyes slightly at the recollection. "Charlene Collins again." She touched her hair despondently. "She keeps making fun of my curls."
"Her again?" Hank shook his head. "Well, forget her. Some people have nothing better to do than to hear themselves talk." He joined hands with her. "It's just us bears this weekend."
The girl bounced with enthusiasm. "We're going to have fun."
"That's a promise." Hank tickled her nose then took her over to show her the latest creation from his sometimes overly scientific mind.
X
At recess that afternoon, Becky headed straight for one of the playground benches. She unfolded her copy of The Secret Garden and became immediately wrapped up in it.
"Becky," one member among a cluster of girls ran up, "want to jump rope?"
"Don't ask her," a blonde girl interjected before Becky could respond. She sneered Becky's way. "I didn't know monkeys could read."
Only taking time enough to give Charlene a pair of deadpan eyes, Becky returned to her book.
"I know why your hair really looks like that," Charles went on. "Everybody knows. Your mother was one of those brillo pads."
Becky's face slowly came up at that.
Another of the girls looked confused. "Brillo pads?"
"You know," Charlene said coyly. "My mother has a whole pack of brillo pads around to clean our house. They all have hair that looks like this." She reached for Becky's curls.
The green eyed girl yanked her head back. "Don't touch my hair." Becky put her book on the bench before getting to her feet. "You don't know what my mother looked like at all. At least I know what my father looks like. Mine still lives with me, unlike yours." Charlene's eyes grew to enormous proportions while the other girls fell silent. "Even if my mother was a 'brillo pad', that's better than getting divorced."
"How did you know that?" Charlene demanded, her cheeks flaming.
"I know a lot of things," Becky stated matter-of-factly. "Just like you know your father doesn't even want you living with him. I bet you're the real reason they're getting divorced."
Standing stunned for several seconds, Charlene turned and ran back towards the school.
X
Hank pulled up in front of the elementary school five minutes before three. He had already been familiarized with the area, as he had gone to collect Becky more than once when her father found himself in a sudden jam. He stood outside of his car, leaning against the door to the backseat. When the school bell went off, he scanned through the swarm of students until he spotted one small figure in a red fall jacket.
"Becca," Hank called her over.
The girl's eyes lit up at the summons. "Big Bear!" She mad dashed for him.
Dipping a bit, Hank caught her in his arms and got up to whirl around with her a bit. "My little bear— How was school today?"
Becky played in his hair contentedly. "Okay, I guess."
"Well, it sounds better than yesterday," Hank noted. "That's good." He opened the passenger door and sat her down. "Buckle up, sweetie."
She complied and the pair started off down the road.
It took less than twenty minutes to arrive at the Douglas' brick bungalow. Hank used his newly made keys to let them in. While Becky sat at the kitchen table enjoying Oreos with milk, Hank pawed through her homework folder.
"Hank?" Becky spoke after a moment.
"Hm?"
"Is it true only brillo pads have curly hair?" she asked him.
Hank lowered the folder to look at her. "Brillo pads?"
"You know," Becky nudged a bit. "That's what Charlene calls—"
"Black people," Hank supplied. "Yes, I've heard that particular term more than once and I don't want to hear it from you again. It's completely rude and uncalled for."
The sharpness in Hank's voice surprised Becky. "But then why do people say it?"
"Ignorance begets ignorance." At her confused face, Hank sighed. "Never mind. Just don't say it again."
"Okay," she agreed without question.
"And returning to your question," Hank moved on, "many different people around the world have curly hair. You most likely have it because a grandparent or great-grandparent of yours had it. Genes are random and unpredictable." I should know, he thought. "I want you to ignore anything Charlene tells you. You make that hair texture even more beautiful."
Becky smiled. "Thanks, Hank." She turned thoughtful for a moment. "Hank, have you ever hurt anybody's feelings?"
He considered that. "Unfortunately, I believe I have. Why do you ask?"
She admitted, "I said Charlene's parents were getting divorced. In front of all of her friends."
Hank raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Becky nodded. "I told them her daddy doesn't want her to live with him."
The young scientist shook his head slightly. "No, you didn't."
"Then," Becky finished up, "I told her it's her fault they're getting divorced."
At that, Hank removed his glasses and stared with wide eyes. "No one can ever say you don't go a full nine yards. Becca—" Hank sighed slightly. "Why would you say such things? How did you even know her parents were divorcing?"
"I heard about it," Becky said, deciding that was close enough to the truth. "She's always making fun of me. I just got so sick of her. Then I started talking and I couldn't stop."
"You've probably been holding in how you feel for a long time," Hank put forth. "I understand that very well. People teased me in school."
"You?" Becky looked at him disbelievingly.
"Yes," Hank had to smile. "I was too smart, too tall, too athletic, anything they chose to exaggerate. People talk because inside, they don't feel good about themselves at all. That's why we can never sink to their levels. Our doing that is similar to a lion attacking a kitten."
Becky of course had never seen it that way and fully understood Hank's words. "I think I made her cry," she said regretfully. "At first I was happy but after recess I couldn't stop feeling bad."
"That's actually very positive," Hank said. "Feeling bad means you're good to begin with." He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Becca," he got her eyes up at the petition, "you know what you did was wrong, right?"
"Right," she agreed softly.
"Should I tell your father?"
Becky shook her head. "He's too busy. He's always too busy."
While he himself engaged in conversation with Agent Douglas quite often, Hank could easily tell that the man spared no time to work through irrelevant little girl problems. However, Hank had been estranged from his own family for the most part and had found a near instant camaraderie in the pleasant nine-year-old when they met. Before her, Hank never knew he could have such a tight bond with a child. She leaned on his every word and Hank could see in her green eyes the amount of respect she carried for him. With him being responsible for her that weekend, Hank knew he could not fail himself and especially not her.
Moving his hand from her shoulder to her hand, Hank asked, "Becca, have you ever been spanked before?"
"Not really." Ever since she had discovered the special secret about herself, the child saw to it that it for sure never happened anymore.
"Well," Hank moved on, increasing the firmness in his tone but made sure not to scare the girl in the process, "I'm going to spank you for what you did today."
Becky's eyes flashed in horror. "But Hank, you can't! I thought I was your sweet, perfect little sister."
"You are." He put his hands to her teeny waist and picked her up to hold nose to nose. "Charlene is nasty because she isn't happy at home. I don't want my little sister to be that way, even if that means I have to spank her." Any ponderings Becky entertained about forcing Hank to change his mind or even forget this situation entirely dissolved in Becky's mind at hearing. "I'm going to put you over my knee now, alright?"
"Alright," she whispered.
Knowing she was scared and reasonably so, Hank gently draped her over his legs then extended one hand to her. "Squeeze it as tightly as you need."
Becky took the offered appendage, cuddling it against her cheek.
Before he could talk himself out of this, Hank landed the first swat, which he knew could not have been firm enough to startle a fly. He went sharper with the next few and soon felt Becky jump a bit. Between the whimpering that sounded and the smell of salt, Hank knew she had started crying and could not bring himself to go beyond ten smacks.
He picked her up and instinctively held her close to him, as if afraid someone would snatch her away. "I'm done, Becca Bear. See?" He touched a gentle hand to her back. "No more spanking."
Becky cried into his sweater, snuggling against him so he could keep her safe. "Are you mad at me, Big Bear."
"Of course not," Hank answered immediately. "I could never be angry with you. I love you." He surprised himself with how much conviction he brought with the statement. "As if I was there the day you were born, you're my little sister. That will never change."
Becky raised her head to kiss his cheek. "I love you, too. You know what I wish?"
"Not until you tell me."
"I wish we could be together all the time."
Hank smiled as he rocked her in his strong arms. "As do I, sweetheart." He lowered his face to kiss her forehead. "As do I."
XXXXX
"Becca?" Hank shook her lightly. "Becca Bear?" She stirred just long enough to turn over then settled sleepily against Hank's chest once again.
Of course, she chose right then to want a nap. Hank had dust to clear, lessons that needed further planning, a lab to get back in order— then he promptly chose not to care about any of that. He wound his arms securely around the tired Becky. Whenever she chose to awaken again, he would be there.
IIIIIII
As he and Charles worked to add the new books to his case, Joey's ran a hand along one title in particular. "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe?" he made a curious face. "What kind of story is this?"
Charles turned to him with a smile. "A most interesting one. I think you younger children will enjoy it." He took one of Joey's hands. "I have a special surprise for you."
"What is it?" the little boy asked eagerly.
"On Monday, I'm going to have you begin taking classes with the others," the Professor announced.
Joey's face lost all traces of enthusiasm. "Do I have to?"
Charles looked confused. "Have to? Joey, this is good news. It means that you no longer need one on one instruction. You've advanced enough to rejoin the others."
"I like one on one," Joey told him. "I like when it's just you and me."
Charles sat and pulled Joey over close to him. "So do I, little one. But you've come so far since last year." He smiled again. "Don't you remember your first day of school?"
"Oh yeah." Joey certainly did.
XXXXX
"Thank you, Becky. Lovely as always." Charles gave the girl her signal to sit then called on, "Joey, I believe it's your turn. Why don't you pick up where Becky left off on page twelve?" He watched as the newest and youngest member of his household stood on clearly nervous feet. He had designed this reading circle to help with the electrified mutant's fledging literary skills and hoped it bared ripe fruit.
Joey cleared his throat, blue eyes locked on the open book in his hands. "She ca-carried a tray with a cup of… of…" He caught Becky mouthing the pronunciation. "of fragrant tea stemming on it." Frank let off a snort and Joey tried to correct himself. "Stem- ste—" He suddenly threw the book across the room, causing the overhead lights to flicker wildly before he ran out of the library.
Charles sighed in frustration. "Sean, take over for me, please. Frank, I want to see you after class."
The pre-teen lowered guilty in his seat.
Getting up from the desk, Charles hurried off and scooped up the distraught boy the moment he saw him. "Hey now, shhh. It's alright." He rubbed his back comfortingly.
"I'm sorry, Charles," Joey said into the man's neck. "But I hate reading. Kids always make fun of me 'cause I'm stupid."
"Joey, you most certainly are not stupid," Charles admonished gently. "You've been in and out of school for so long, it's no wonder why you're a little behind. That's why I'm here. To help you catch up."
"Okay." Though Joey still sounded unsure. "Sorry I threw the book."
"Yes, that's another thing," Charles moved on, not liking this at all. He made sure their blue eyes had firm contact. "Joey, we've talked about this since you first arrived. If you have any sort of fit, it will cause a reaction from your powers. You cannot afford outbursts until you have more control."
"Yes, sir," the child whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Let's go to your room." Charles carried him towards the spoken area.
When the pair made it to the adolescent bedroom, Charles took a seat on the bed. He quietly placed Joey over his lap and gave his little bottom a pop. He waited a few seconds then administered another. He continued with mild swats, making sure to leave spaces between them.
As he received his spanking, Joey had to register each blow and winced softly. A calm came around him and his previous rage disappeared from his mind entirely.
Stilling his hand, Charles left Joey over his lap for a minute while he rubbed his back and allowed his little one some time to think. Though he did not care for it, he knew Joey needed this therapeutic treatment as part of his training. With his smarted behind to focus on, it kept the part of his brain that controlled his electricity at bay.
"There we are." Charles picked the boy up into a tight hug. "Much better now."
Joey hugged Charles back as hard as his little arms could. He never felt any anger towards the man after one of these sessions. He could just feel that Charles did not want to hurt him and even better, he honestly was not afraid to touch or be close to Joey like most other adults. The short blonde had spent years crying out for such a person and at last received it in the form of Charles Xavier.
XXXXX
Looking up from where his head currently rested in Charles lap, Joey thought he caught sadness in the older male's eyes. "Daddy, what's wrong?"
Charles had to smile at the sincere concern. "Nothing, little one. But there are moments when it dawns on me how proud I am of you. You're turning into a big boy before my eyes."
Joey sat up and leaned on him. "I like being your little one better. Daddy?"
"Yes, son?" Charles stroked his hair.
"I'll go to school with everybody else if you want me to. But if I throw anything, I'll just hit Frank."
Charles let off a chuckle before wrapping his arms around him to kiss the top of his head.
IIIIIII
A blended mix dreamed up by Frank made up of mozzarella cheese and garlic sprinkled down over the rolls.
"That looks great, hon," Raven said, adding meat sauce to the spaghetti.
"Thanks, Rae," the boy said. "It'll be ready in another sec."
Hank walked in and went to the sink to rinse off his hands. "Do you two need any help?" Raven turned off the stove and came over, giving him a lingering kiss on the lips. "Ooh." Hank had to push his glasses back up his nose. "What was that for?"
"Who needs reasoning?" Raven replied with a wide smile.
Frank watched them out of the corner of his eyes, glad to see that older kids could at last get it right.
"Frank," Hank called over to him, "so tomorrow afternoon. You and me back in the lab?"
"You're on," Frank said, holding up his plate of fully adorned rolls.
By the time the three of them reached the dining room from the kitchen Charles, Alex, Sean, Becky, Joey, and normally last arrival Erik were all seated. They placed the food dead center of the table and everyone started loading down their plates.
Charles sat back, taking in the scene for a moment. "Everyone." He got to his feet and they all froze, eyes locked on him. "This is our first night home. I'm thankful we all arrived back safely and most of all, as one. Regardless of any changes or obstacles we may face in the future, that's one thing I want to always remain the same. The nine of us. Together."
Clearly in agreement with that sentiment, Erik raised his glass. "Together."
The young ones lifted their cups as well. "Together," they declared in unison.