X-Men-First Class: Rise or Fall
Chapter One Hundred Twenty Eight
Author's Word: Two years in a row, fam. Yes, yet again the Anniversary Special became too big to contain in one chapter so there will be a second half to this coming at you very soon. Now as always, I want to say a deep thank you to all of you for supporting Rise or Fall for these two years. That last round of feedback was sensational and I'm grateful that things like that allow this story to continue to rise. I can't believe this all started from a movie that I had no intention of liking whatsoever.
By the way, if you have any issues with the timeline, leave me alone. You have the creators of First Class to blame for that one, not being able to do basic addition and subtraction with people's ages. Seriously?
Now, please enjoy and review!
When another wave of bubble gum scented water came at him, Charles had to use both arms to shield himself from the heavy splash. Shaking out his thick and much cherished hair, he attempted to set the giggling blue mutant with a displeased look. Her little round face and ear and to ear smile did nothing to strengthen his resolve.
"Raven, you must stop that," he chided her lightly. "I've already had my bath, thank you very much."
She laughed again, "Sorry, Charlie," and croaked her lime green frog toy at him.
"Keep that up and you won't get a bedtime story." Creating an immediate but contrite pout on the girl's pout, Charles resumed washing her.
The small mutant child had been his sister for a couple months now. Of course, to their mother she had been a part of their family for far longer than that but did not attend regular school or venture out much due to "frequent illness". Keeping the façade going in her psyche took an enormous toll on Charles' own mind but he could not allow himself to place his guard down for even a moment's time. One minor mistake and not only would his little sister be taken away but she would no doubt be contained in a cage like nothing more than rabid forest vermin.
Plugging her nose, Raven took a swift dive under the milky white water.
"Oh?" Charles spread apart the water to see her face. "Are you a mermaid a now?"
Raven reemerged. "Hm?"
"I said, are you a mer—" Charles sputtered at the mouthful of water she sprayed his way. He used a hand towel to dab at his face. "If you wanted your mouth washed out, you could've told me."
"Soap tastes better than castor oil," she claimed.
"And I should make you drink an entire bottle," Charles faux threatened.
Unplugging the tub, he gave her a poke in her belly button.
"Stop!" Raven squealed, hands immediately going to shield the sensitive spot.
Charles gathered the six-year-old in a dry towel and cloaked her in her lavender robe for now. "Alright, baby blue, time to look like Mum again."
A ripple coursed through the little one's body, changing her over to her golden hair, hazel eye, and rosy cheek form. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she grinned widely.
Charles smiled at the content expression. He took her hand and guided them out of the girl's private bath.
The moment he finished helping her into night clothes, both their heads shot towards the door when the loud but entirely unsurprising argument erupted.
"Mummy?" a worried Raven spoke faintly, reaching a hand forward.
"It's alright, love," Charles quickly assured. "Here." Seizing her hand along with a storybook, he brought her over to the closet. "You stay here and I'll be right back." He handed her the book. "Alright?"
Holding the book close to her chest, Raven nodded her compliance and took a seat on the floor. She watched her brother depart from the room and close the door after himself.
While she awaited his return, she attempted to distract herself by flipping through the colorful pages of the book but all she could hear were the shouts that seemed to grow with every word. Then suddenly, it stopped all at once, leaving only a door slam and heavy footsteps.
Seconds later, a visibly worn Charles came back.
He let off a tired breath before going over and inside the closet. "Ready to read?"
"Is Mother okay?"
"Of course." Charles sat down beside her. "Everything's fine." He formed a smile. "Want to hear about Little Bo Peep?"
"Mmhmm." Raven opened the book so that it positioned half on her lap and half on his.
Slipping a secure arm around his sister, Charles started in on the story.
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At the ear-piercing outcry, Katherine's eyes shot straight open. Despite her supreme exhaustion, it took less than a quarter of a second to distinguish the forever recognizable beckoning of her newborn. Sitting up, she shook the one currently still peacefully sleeping beside her.
"Chris…" She groaned when he only wriggled his head underneath the pillow.
Apparently, not even the sound heard 'round the world proved enough to force the great pilot down from the clouds.
Flipping her legs over the side of the bed, Katherine stepped into her fuzzy slippers. The moment she made it out into the halls, the cries ceased instantaneously. Perhaps her little boy only wanted to test her reflexes? Sounded like male Summers humor…
When she entered the nursery, she discovered the crib empty but the rocking chair filled by both her sons. The older one currently rocked back and forth with the younger bundled in his grasp.
"Oh Alex, you didn't need to get up, honey. You have school in a few hours."
Looking to their mother a moment, Alex returned his gaze to the one he held. "I don't mind, Mommy. Look," he propped the tender armload up a bit, "he's sleeping."
Katherine walked over and squatted at the chair to peer into the face of the baby with shut eyes and several fingers wedged into his mouth.
"Someone is wild about his big brother," she commented happily. "Of course," she fingered through the strands of blonde on her seven-year-old that so much mirrored her own, "he has every reason to be." Alex smiled at her then let off a yawn. "I think we should all try to get a little more sleep. Here we go." She gently took the baby from his clutch.
Going over to the crib, Katherine carefully returned Scott to his stomach up position beside his bear and recovered him with the blanket.
"Good night, sweetheart," she whispered, kissing to finger to touch to his forehead.
"Nighty night, Scottie," said Alex, gripping the bars that separated him from his brother.
"Come on, honey." Katherine hoisted Alex up and he nestled right into her shoulder. When she got to his room, she placed him back in the unmade bed. "Dad and I really appreciate how much you try to pitch in with Scott."
"It's okay, Mom," he said as she tucked him in. "He's my brother. All mine."
Katherine laughed lightly. "Oh believe me, none of us would dare argue that." She kissed his cheek. "See you in the morning."
"Night, Mommy." Scott pecked his own palm, sending her an air kiss.
Katherine pretended to catch it then got up to go.
As soon as she made it back to her own bedroom and settled in, she took hold of her pillow and whacked Christopher as hard as she could with it. She responded to his startled gasp by laying back and closing her eyes.
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Much to the relief of those employed at Crane's Bar, the Friday crowd at last faded out for the night. Quick as his reflexes would allow for, Victor made rapid work of getting the counter and tables cleaned up.
"Hey, easy there, Creed," said Levi, clearly amused. "If you need to cut out, make with it."
"'Preciate it, pal." Victor tossed his towel over into the soapy bucket.
"Don't worry about it. Besides, you stayed late last weekend," Levi pointed out.
"Thanks, anyway." Victor got into his coat, released his long honey hair from restraint, and departed from the bar.
Strolling with a light whistle on his laps, the tall teenager made his way around the side of the building to a barrel. Shoving one hand inside, he yanked out the one hiding within.
"Alright, Huck Finn," Victor pulled him up none too gently, "out, now."
Logan struggled out of his clutch, only gaining release when his brother removed his hand. "How long did ya know I was there?"
"Last hour," Victor replied before giving him a firm slap across the back of the head.
"Ow! Shoot, Vic." Logan rubbed at the spot. "Ain't even that bad."
"You call sneakin' out of the house this time of night some kind of good?" Victor retorted. "If Ma saw you now, she'd rake ya clean across the coals."
Logan looked alarmed now. "You ain't gonna tell her are ya?"
"You askin' me for favors right now?" an incredulous Victor responded.
"It ain't like there's school tomorrow or somethin'."
"And you think that makes it alright, huh?" Victor smacked the back of his head then again.
"Ow! What was that for?" the boy asked of the last one.
"For makin' it too easy to pick up your scent." Victor took him by the collar and sent him forward. "Get home, now."
Kicking at whatever rocks or scraps came his way, Logan slowed down a bit in order to move along at Victor's side. He inched towards him when they got in close enough to each other.
Victor sighed, giving him a gentle nudge. "What do you think you're doin' out here, anyway, runt?"
"Just messin' around," Logan shrugged.
"I said," Victor looked at him sharply, "what're you doin' out here?"
Logan kept his gaze to the ground. "You always stay gone so long on the weekends."
"That's when we get the best business. I make good tips. You were there when I told all this to Ma," Victor reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah," Logan rolled his eyes. "I heard it all before."
"Lo'," Victor tugged on the back of the child's coat, "you havin' trouble sleepin' when I'm gone?"
"No," his younger brother promptly denied. "I just don't want Ma goin' into hysterics over somethin' happenin' to ya out here."
"Mmhmm." Victor hip bumped him. "Well, "Ma" ought to know that I can hold my own." His tone turned a little more serious. "And that nothin' in the world could keep me from walkin' back through that door to the two of ya. Three with that mangy cat."
Logan stuck his tongue out at him. "You're the mangy one."
"I know." Victor drummed fingers across the top of the brunette head. "And you know you got a good lickin' comin' your way."
"But I'm tired…"
"Then it'll put ya right to sleep," Victor smirked.
Logan scowled but did not keep up with the protest. He knew he did not exactly have his older brother's favor at the moment.
The two stayed in halfway comfortable silence until they reached their own property. Then, taking Logan by the arm, Victor started leading them towards the barn.
"What're ya doin'?" Logan wondered.
"Not about to wake up Ma." Once they got inside, Victor sat down on a crate, facing the youngster. "Get your coat off. And hurry up about it. It's too cold out here."
Logan slipped out of the protective outer garment and left it on the barn floor.
Victor pulled him over and removed his suspenders before lowering the boy over his knees. He unbuttoned the flap to his red underwear, exposing the bare behind beneath.
Not trying to prolong things, Victor began the spanking with hard force.
Though he tried to keep quiet, kicking alone did nothing for Logan and he began to howl out. Tears formed next and quickly spilled over, gushing down his cheeks.
"Yow! Viiic!" The crying increased sincerely. "Quit it, please! Dam—" He managed to catch himself. "Dang it, it hurts too bad!"
"Sorry, little brother," Vic said and meant it, "but you need to learn."
Logan soon absorbed the full lesson as the smacks kept up for another dozen worth.
By the time Victor decided it done, he could make out the visible redness he'd created, despite the low lighting. Readjusting the younger one's clothes, he picked the weeping Logan up into his arms. He gave him a nuzzle at the neck and cheek.
Logan found further comfort in his brother's long hair tickling and draping over his face. His breathing calmed and he twisted over to whimper into Victor's shoulder like a small chastised pup.
"I know this was a bad one, Lo'," Victor spoke to him softly, "but I can't stand doin' this so I need ya to get it when I do."
Logan sniffed. "Could've just talked it out over a coupl'la pints like men."
Victor snorted at that. "You ain't a man." He nipped at the top of his ear. "Just a crummy little runt."
"And you're a stinky old geezer," Logan shot back, wiping at his eyes. "And… sorry. For what I did."
"Nothin' and nobody's gonna keep us apart, Logan. You got to know that, little brother."
"I do. It's just better when you're here."
"Yeah," Victor concurred. "Bein' here has made it all better for me." He stood with the punished boy in his hold. "Come on." He picked up Logan's coat, laying it over him. "We better go in. You know Pickle Toe's searchin' high and low for ya."
As they headed out of the barn, Logan nestled under his coat with his head tiredly against Victor's chest.
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With one arm around his five-year-old's shoulders, Seth Osaka eagerly pointed out the various ships to be seen throughout the pier. Leon's eyes carried a dazzle at the large sea voyagers he found so overwhelming yet thoroughly exciting.
"Do you know the importance of the steamboat?" Seth asked his son.
Leon's gaze turned upward in thought but he only came up in short. "What?"
Seth's face broke into a grin. "To get Mickey home to Minnie in time for dinner of course." He then unleashed a tickle on the boy's stomach.
"Daddy!" he chirped, face aglow.
From directly behind, Jared looked on in satisfaction at their antics until his ears picked up on distinct whispering. Looking to the left of himself, he saw a group of men clustered together and, naturally, murmuring with no measure of subtlety about themselves.
"Do you have something to say?" Jared addressed then plainly. "Or do you simply like carrying on like schoolgirls in public?"
One of them asked, "Did you pick yet?"
Jared raised an eyebrow. "Pick?"
"Yeah, you know," said another with a smug smile. "Which one you plan on blowing next?"
Seth had to leap up to prevent his nephew from lunging. "Jared!" He pinned one of his arms back. "Stop it. Stop it now."
Leon's eyes dimmed in fright.
"Uncle," Jared seethed, "you heard what—"
"I said enough," the man commanded. Jared ceased movement but his anger showed no sign of dissipating any time soon. "Let's go."
"We have every right to be here," Jared insisted.
Seth looked towards the huddle of other men. "This atmosphere is no longer attractive." He lifted Leon up.
"Humph," Jared sneered as the three of them moved by, "must be the garbage rolling in."
"Bye, Captain Hook," one of the other males waved.
Seth squeezed Jared at the shoulder before the younger man could veer around.
Huffing his shoulders, Jared only kept walking.
Peeking over Seth's shoulder, Leon buried his face in his father's shirt front to escape the looks sent his way from the group of strangers.
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Turning away from the kitchen counter with warm pot in hand, Edna offered, "More coffee, Norton?"
"Yes, please." He held up his mug without turning away from his portion of the Chicago Tribune. "Thank you, dear."
"No trouble." She poured him a fresh cup. "Henry, more juice?" Edna tapped the shoulder of the one currently engrossed between the sports and science sections. "Henry?"
"Huh? Oh." The nine-year-old glanced up briefly, "No thank you, Mom," then practically planted his face against the paper again.
"Honey," Edna spoke to Norton, returning the pot back to the coffee maker, "his eye strain is only going to worsen at this rate."
"Hank, wear your glasses while you're reading, please," Norton requested, taking a sip of his coffee. "And stop alarming your mother."
"Yes, sir," the boy sighed, returning the frames to his face.
Edna responded to the knock at the door and smiled at the boy and girl on the other side. "Good morning, you two."
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. McCoy," the children greeted in the usual unison manner.
"Hi, guys," Hank acknowledged his friends. "Hold on. I'll go get my books." He got up and left out of the kitchen.
"Oh Mr. McCoy," Timothy around the table to him, "did you catch the Cubs last night?"
"Please," Norton responded in exasperation. "An utter insult to the sport."
"I know. Me and my dad couldn't stop talking about it," Timothy continued in equal annoyance. "When are they going to get a decent right fielder already?"
"Ah, men," Edna sighed lightly then looked to Aria. "Is everything alright, dear? You seem awfully quiet."
The little girl hugged her books closer. "We have a big math test today. Hank's been helping me, though. No one's better at that sort of thing than him."
"That's certainly true," Edna concurred.
Sweater on and books in his grasp, Hank returned to the kitchen. "Ready."
"We better get going," said Timothy. "See you later, Mr. McCoy. Bye, Mrs. McCoy."
"Have a good day." Aria started out the back door with him.
"Oh Henry," Edna called after her hastily departing son, making his turn back. "You forgot your lunch."
A somewhat disgruntled Hank accepted the paper bag from her. "Mom," he moaned, "please. Don't use my full name in front of my friends."
"Yes, of course," she exhaled. "I'll try to remember better."
"Have a great day at school, son," Norton called over his shoulder.
"We will. Bye, Dad." Hank pecked Edna's cheek when she bent to him. "Bye, Mom." He walked out with that.
"Took you long enough, Einstein," Timothy remarked.
Hank merely rolled his eyes as they began away from his house and down the block. "Look who's talking. You're late every day we don't walk together, Tim."
"Which is why I need you to be on time," Tim remarked. "Hey, head's up." He flung out the football he had tucked under his arm.
Hank caught it with ease but his sudden stop made him bump Aria, who in turn dropped her books. "Oh I'm sorry. Let me help." When he lowered to help her collect them, he noticed the darkened mark peeking out from under the right sleeve of her dress. "Aria," he touched her wrist, "what happened here?"
The girl snatched her arm back. "I fell riding my bike."
"Again?" Hank reacted.
"Clumsy but cute," Tim remarked with a smirk.
"Thanks, Hank." Aria stood again, all books accounted for.
"…Sure," Hank responded vaguely.
"Hey, get moving, slowpokes," Tim said then took the liberty of running forward, causing a flock of pigeons to fly away in a scatter.
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Eyes turning away from the raging storm outside, Emma looked to where her brother laid out on his stomach in his bed with a pillow under his chin.
"Does it still hurt?"
Chris glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. "It faded shortly after dinner."
She hugged her own arms. "I have never seen him that livid before."
"What about Mother?" he brought up. "The picture of fury."
"Mrs. Oswald resigned after five years," Emma reminded. "You knew how she'd react to having to find a new housekeeper on short notice. And I still don't… Chris, what were you thinking?"
"Oh for God's sake." He hopped onto his knees. "I only felt her up."
Emma shot him a pointed look. "Outdoors? By the garage? What insanity befell you.?"
Chris attempted to muster an explanation. "Well, she was there and I was there so it—" The door creaked open, revealing the timid face of their youngest sister. An already irritated Chris asked of her, "What do you want, Cordelia?"
"The rain is too loud," she said softly.
"Just try to ignore it, Cordy," Emma advised.
"…I want Daddy to come home."
"Well, guess what." Chris flipped over onto his side. "You're the only one."
Emma glowered at him then looked to the upset little brunette again. "Not now, Cordy, alright?"
Taking her leave from the two blondes, Cordelia tried going back to her own room. She managed to relax amongst her stuffed animals until a particularly large boom caused her to sit straight up again. Hurrying down off her mattress and right out of her room, she quietly slipped into the one that accommodated her oldest sibling.
Up against her headboard, Adrienne spotted her. "Hold on, Tina." She placed her palm over the mouth piece. "May I help you, Cordelia?"
The tiny tot approached the bed. "Can I stay with you?"
"Sure," Adrienne shrugged a shoulder and folded back her comforter, "if you must."
"Thanks, Dri," Cordelia smiled and climbed up.
"Nothing, just my little sister," Adrienne returned to her conversation, pulling the covers over the small girl. "Oh the things I have to do when my parents are out." She listened a moment. "No, not the blonde bulimic. Cordy."
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Blue box of Frosted Flakes in his possession, the newest member of the mutated household sat in front of the cabinets in front of the sink munching on the sugary contents pieces within the package. He picked up on footsteps coming his way and instinctively began backing away.
The sight of the good-natured Englishman placed him at immediate ease. "Well, good morning to you."
"Charles," Joey breathed then smiled. "Good morning."
"Hungry I see." Charles gently took the box from him. "I know you're most likely quite comfortable but might I suggest a seat at the table?"
"Okay." Joey immediately got up, going to sit in a regular chair.
"Thank you. I really don't care to see you on the floor that way." Charles retrieved a box out of one cupboard and a spoon out of a drawer to pour a bowl of flakes for the boy. "Now, don't get too use to this. Cold cereal is a weekend treat only." He splashed some milk into the bowl next. "Far too much sugar and the like." He carried the bowl over to him.
"Yes, Charles, I'll remember." Joey then eagerly dug into the food before him.
Charles smiled at sat beside him. "You were a little more tired than usual this morning."
"I was playing with Becky last night," he told the man. "She's a whole lot of fun. She let me use her marbles and showed me how to play and everything."
"Yes, Becky really is someone special around here," Charles commented favorably. "Outside of her and Alex, how are things going with the others?" The Professor noticed his sudden change in expression. "What is it?" Charles glanced back, seeing that his fellow headmaster had just arrived inside the kitchen. "Erik." With a whimper, Joey transferred over to Charles lap. "Now now, little one." He patted the child's back. "There's plenty of room for all of us here."
Erik walked over. "He is aware I can still see him, right? He's like an ostrich, head in the sand."
"I'm afraid your face is a tad too overwhelming for the very young," Charles remarked cheekily.
Joey could not contain his giggle at that.
Erik turned to him. "Oh, is that funny to you?" He reached around to give Joey a little tickle.
The boy let off a shout, creating a small reaction from the kitchen lights.
"Joey," Charles gave him a tap on the bottom, "settle down now. There's no need to be frightened. Erik isn't trying to hurt you. He only wanted to play with you. Won't you be friendly lad and say good morning?"
"Good morning, Erik," Joey recited obediently without looking into the man's face. But he did gaze up at Charles. "I want to go play."
Charles dragged his bowl over. "After you finish eating."
Joey rushed through the food as fast as he could and all but fled the kitchen when the Professor finally allowed him up.
Charles faced his friend with an apologetic countenance. "It's only been a week. He simply needs more time."
Erik lowered into a chair across from him. "A child's intuition speaks volumes."
"I won't hear of that," Charles dismissed. "Instinct, stepping back from what he initially views as a threat- it's how he's learned to survive. He isn't like Becky, desiring to see beyond the first impression. It's going to take time but mark my words. Joey will trust you some day."
With a plain nod, Erik raised, "Coffee?"
"Tea, if it isn't trouble."
"Not at all." Getting to his meet, Erik headed for the sink to fill the request.
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"Yes!" Sean practically yanked the horror novel down from its shelf. "Do you understand how long I've waited for this to come in?"
Charles could not help frowning a bit at the title. "Are you sure that won't be too graphic?"
"Charles, I'm fifteen," Sean felt the need to remind.
"And with all too vivid an imagination." Charles patted the top of the copper head meaningfully.
"Trust me, okay? This guy's pretty moderate next to some of the writers I follow. I'll be fine."
"Alright. Let's see here. I still need to visit the poetry section for Hank so I'll meet you at the register in about…" Charles glanced at his watch. "Thirty minutes?" Sean looked at him knowingly. "Yes, completely absurd. A full hour."
Sean grinned and went off to get lost among the volumes.
From around the corner of the terror section, a pair of brown eyes followed his movements.
"Maya?" a girl with blonde braids petitioned her, seizing her attention. "Come check out this dreamboat." She indicated the cover of the romance novel she held.
Maya walked towards her. I thought I was…
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Hurrying down the stairs that lead into the basement, the near panting man placed down the small blanketed figure. Curious eyes peered up at him awaiting direction.
"Stay right here, understand me?" Norton instructed. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Are you going to get Kiki?" the little boy wanted to know.
"First, I must meet up with my son," Norton explained. "I'll need his help to get back in and free her. Regardless of anything, you will have your sister back. I promise you, Travis."
The young voice dropped. "Then what'll happen to us?"
"Hank and his wife," Norton stated. "They'll take care you, mark my words. Now I really must go." He gave him a quick hug. "Be safe."
Trav held on as long as he could until Norton finally had to rush for the stairs once more. "Hurry back."
Sitting on the floor, he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.
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Wide open suitcase ready on his bed, the ghostly mutant worked to pack his entire life inside it, as if a man on the run. Before very long, he tired and forced his middle dresser drawer shut.
"I want to know the truth."
Trick's eyes went to the doorway. "Erik. About what?"
Stepping forward, Erik asked straight out, "Are you leaving because of me?"
Trick could only shake his head. "Erik, that's not—"
"I said I want the truth," the older man reiterated. "I know, Trick. I know about your visits with the Children of Liberty. Is that was this is about? Steve Rogers, Kerstin Harris? Is the one I recruited the one I've also pushed away?"
"Erik, no." Trick stood directly before him. "You think I'm leaving because of you? Erik, I owe a monumental debt to you. Do you understand what you did for me by opening up this home for me as well as my daughter? You gave us acceptance and true belonging. Things are difficult and we might not always agree but the X-Men are a cornerstone in my life. That has not and will not change."
Erik only proved further confused by this. "Then why?"
"Something is calling me to take part in this mission. Perhaps that's what really lead me back to New York. And Alana- with all she's been through, she could use a good friend to see her through this. I know exactly what that feels like except my social circle goes a bit wider than hers."
Lowering his head for one moment, Erik spoke again. "Please… look after her."
"I will," Trick assured. They shared a handshake and Erik started to go. "Erik?" He turned around. "I know what it feels like when a love seems doomed from the get go. Keep hope for the future."
Erik said nothing as he looked at him before continuing on for his own quarters.
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Hands folded behind his back, Hank paced about the stretch of his lab, grateful he had so much space for his large feet to work with. He added that to the already long list of reasons to rebuke himself. He, who had the best personal area of all in the glorious manor, had dared speak out of turn the way he had. Not only had his words been insulting towards Erik, they had angered Charles and upset Becky enough to run off outside while dealing with a telepathic headache.
Charles had found her and Hank knew things were well between himself and his little sister again but that did not change the fact that the English headmaster would soon be in there to have a "detailed conversation" with him about things. From the back of Hank's throat a noise emitted and he had to stop and wonder if it had been a moan or perhaps a whine.
Unfortunately, he did not receive much time to mull that over as the Professor at last found his way inside the lab. He made a point of shutting the French doors behind him.
"Charles," Hank acknowledged.
"Henry," the older man returned. "First, I want you to know that I am very displeased and even somewhat disappointed with your actions. You had no business whatsoever speaking about Erik in such a way to one of the students, let alone to Rebecca. She is sick and you know well how she feels about him."
"I am sorry, Charles," Hank urged. "You're right. I crossed the line. I simply can't shake this nagging fear in the back of my mind that he could walk out of her life. That would devastate Becca forever. She's already lost her biological father."
"I am aware of that, as is Erik," Charles stated. "I know how difficult it is for the two of you to see eye to eye but you must never step out of turn with either one of us. Like it or not, Erik is my fellow headmaster and until he gives genuine reason for you to do otherwise, you will show respect to him. Do I make myself clear, Henry?"
"Yes, sir," Hank responded, trying to keep his face straight. "It will not happen again."
"Right. However," the telepath went about unbuckling his belt, "I believe a slightly stronger reminder is in order."
Heartbeat rising, Hank simply turned and bent himself over the nearest lab table. "I understand, sir."
Charles quietly stepped up behind him. Folding the belt in half, he unleashed it with a resounding whack across the seat of Hank's pants. Due to the higher pain threshold the younger mutant possessed, the Professor knew this would take some doing.
On Hank's end, he knew it as well and felt additional embarrassment because of it. As if he really needed anymore after what he had done. By the eighth strike, he felt his resolve crumbling and it became a struggle not to attempt to rip the table clean in half.
"You must remember," Charles continued to punish him as he spoke, "the amount of influence you have among the little ones here. The privilege of being a teacher comes with great expectations. Remember that, young man."
"Yes!" Hank managed to get out, producing a ragged sob along with it.
Charles did not stop until he heard audible tears from the scientist. "Alright, Henry." He began to put his belt back on. "I think that's quite enough."
Hank slowly turned around with shaking shoulders. He did not want to face him whatsoever but when he did all he found was a pair of open arms. Careful not to knock the shorter man over, Hank fell into the hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Shhh. There, there, Hank." Charles patted his arm and gave him a fond squeeze. "I know you are. Now that you've been punished, we can simply put all of this behind us." He pulled back slightly, raising his head for him. "Chin up, alright?"
"Alright," Hank echoed, forming the smallest smile.
"I think it'd be best if you lay down in your room for a bit."
"Yes, sir. That does sound best."
Charles gave him another hug then gripped him at the arm. He brought Hank into his room. He helped him out of his lab coat the eased him stomach down onto the mattress.
"I want you to remember something else, Henry," Charles mentioned.
Hank looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"That regardless of anything," Charles massaged the shaky shoulders, "I love you like my own. Very much."
An earnest smile came to the young man's face. "Thank you, Charles. I feel the same way."
XXXXX
Judging by the amount of rambunctiousness taking place from the foyer, Erik took it that the early evening's festivities were off to some sort of start. Good or bad had yet to be determined. He made his way to the front of the house, where four of the youngsters had gathered already.
Hank resembled a grizzly bear complete with a hooded mask and a painted on face. Sean had dressed up like an oversized penguin, able to see through the neck space on the costume. Frank had on a ferocious silver outfit. The shark mask covered his entire face. The one who grabbed the metal wielder's attention most, however, proved to be the small bear cub with little ears and, like Hank, brown face paint.
"Hank and I are real bears now, Erik," Becky proclaimed proudly.
"You most certainly are," he concurred. "The best of the bunch."
Hank picked the little girl up. "And absolutely guaranteed to bring home the most candy."
"Only because Becky's cute," a muffled Frank chimed in. "My costume's the coolest."
"No way, Frank-O," Sean disagreed. "Mine's the best. I'm a penguin," he flapped his wings, "that flies."
"Yeah right." Frank looked towards the stairs. "Oh brother. Speaking of cute…"
Charles came down with Joey, placing the little boy down for all to see.
"Guess what I am," Joey encouraged excitedly.
"You're a kangaroo." Becky reached down to play with the floppy tan ears.
Erik raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."
"Yes, I believe you inspired this one." Charles squeezed Joey's shoulder. "Didn't he, little one?"
"Mmhmm," Joey nodded, though he still carried an air of caution around the Polish native.
"Seanie," Charles smiled. "You look simply adorable."
"I knew you'd say that." Though the teen silently did not mind it. "Anybody seen Alex?"
Alex? Charles mentally summoned.
I'm comin', I'm comin.
The blonde then appeared around the corner, sporting a giraffe mask with tall neck. "I'm wearing the head- that is all."
"Dude, all the other animals can eat you for lunch," Frank snickered.
"Keep it up and I'll make fish bait out of you," Alex threatened. "I can't believe I went along with this animal theme crap."
"Aw and here I thought you were going as Lassie."
All eyes returned to the stairs as Raven descended them, adorned in a black knee-length dress with loose skirt. It came with a train that twirled upward somewhat like a tail. Black wings were made onto the back and she wore a dark eye mask that pointed at the nose like a beak. Her golden blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders with her every move.
Sean's jaw dropped and Frank wolf whistled quite noisily.
Becky gasped. "When can I wear a dress like that?"
Charles commented, "She's hardly old enough to wear a dress like that."
"She's a raven," Joey figured out. "A real one."
"What do you think?" the girl in question put forth.
"That skirt could be a little longer," said Erik.
"Not asking you," Raven informed with a tight grin, eyes exactly on one in particular.
An astonished Hank walked up to her. "Edgar Allen Poe himself would be made breathless by you."
Raven beamed. "Thank you, Teddy."
"Okay, okay." Alex lifted Joey. "Can we get on with the candy heist already?"
"Why aren't Charles and Erik in costume?" Becky wanted to know.
"We're in metaphorical attire," Erik explained. "Charles is Noah and I am… the zoo keeper."
Frank said, "If zoo keepers wear leather jackets, I should go as one next year."
"Right then." Charles started for the door. "Let's be off and remember the rules. No wandering off, say thank you to all of the neighbors and I receive first pick of chocolate."
"Nuh uh," Becky protested.
"You want to walk?" Alex put Joey down so he could run along with Becky and Frank. "Stay close, shrimptoids."
Sean spun through, wings completely animated.
"If we're on Noah's Ark," Hank took Raven's hand, "we'd best pair up."
Raven reclined against him. "I'd go two by two with you any day."
Noticing Erik's expression, Charles said, "I forgot to mention one rule."
Erik looked to him. "And what might that be?"
"Have fun or no treats."
Erik shrugged with a fiendish grin. "Then that leaves all the tricks for me."